Just when you least expect it

Ughh. Work took a long time tonight. But I got to be a judge at an "Apprentice" type competition. That was kind of fun. I tried to be mean. Some of these kids really had NO idea what they were doing. Silly kids.

Then I started my Christmas shopping. I had an hour in a mall (from 8 - 9pm) and it was completely empty, so I figured I should take advantage of not having to deal with line ups and crowds. I hate line ups and crowds. But I really like buying people things.

I bought a few little things for my friend's kids (she has a boy and a girl) and I was walking towards the cash out when I realized that I was buying each of the kids completely gender stereotypical gifts. I was buying the 3 yr old girl a shiny golden purse and the baby boy a hunting-style hat and flannel shirt. I had to stop myself. I mean, is this the right thing to do? Perpetuate the roles that each of these kids should take? Shouldn't I buy the girl a hunting hat too or maybe the boy would also like the shiny purse, isn't it their decision what they like, it shouldn't be forced upon them?

Ok, so I was having those thoughts in my head but approaching the matter with a sense of humour and mostly just laughing at myself. In the end I got the boy the flannel shirt & hat because he is only 2 months old and will have no idea what the heck he is wearing anyway. The little girl, I got some cool magnets and I'll get her something else later. Everybody wins.

So remember I mentioned the boy who never called me? Well, I am sitting on the subway on my way home, after a long 12 hour work day, looking like poo and who walks on the empty subway but that boy. DAMMIT. That never happens when I look good and am feeling witty!! We chatted for a bit, he said he would call me or something and then I got off the subway. By the way, he was on his way home from having sushi and watching tv with his EX GIRLFRIEND. That is not a good sign. Anyway... maybe everybody doesn't win after all.

Now is the time on Sprockets when we dance.

Spare some change?

Don't you hate it when you have not just one, but TWO ideas of what to write about in your blog, and then you sit in front of the computer and forget?

I got my hair cut today. I asked my hairdresser about how many people fall asleep when they get their hair cut. She says it only seems to happen when the clients know the hairdressers really well or if they are older men.

She was nice. I felt bad about making that quip the other day about my relief about popular girls from highschool becoming hairdressers.

I was walking home listening to my iPod really loudly. A man was sitting on some church steps with this really cool vintage bike, in a puffy down vest, punching a number into his fun little cell phone and he said something to me that I could only half hear, so I took out the ear phone and asked him to repeat himself because I was SURE that I had misheard him. Then he held out his hand and said again,"Spare some change?" I was just kind of shocked so I just kept walking without responding because I had no idea how to. He didn't look very needy, not that one needs to look needy to get change, but I just don't know... I'm still not sure what that was about.

I hate it when I give a boy my number and then a week later he still hasn't called. I immediately think that I gave him the wrong number by accident. Or that he just changed his mind. Dammit. I wish I didn't care.

Also, how great is it that someone from POLAND found my blog by googling "Hipsters don't drive cars" and someone from SPAIN found my blog by googling "Orientals crazy bra".

Walking Wounded

Tonight was the second night in a row that my iPod chose the song "Mad World" by Sacre from Donnie Darko to come up as I am walking home and it always creeps me out. It is such a good song. Or maybe it is just the moment in the movie that it was playing that struck me in such a way that I just have carried that emotion over whenever I hear the song. Anyway, I like it even though as I walk I imagine a large piece of jumbo jet is going to fall from the sky and crush me.

I did some high school presentations today. 2 things: 1) All kids in high school are such messes and such nerds and so many look so lost and depressed that I just want to tell them all "Don't worry! It will get better!" I liked high school for the most part, but it would have helped to know that in the future things do change and that all the popular girls eventually become hairdressers (not that there is anything wrong with being a hairdresser but it is somehow comforting that they are not astronauts or something). 2) How the hell can any high school kid know what they want to be when they grow up when they are in high school? In fact, how do we ever even decide? It is such a random path that we take, it could all be effected by ONE teacher randomly telling you that you are good at something so that is what you should be come, or that you do poorly once in one subject because your teacher was crappy and you write off a whole slew of career possibilities in one fell swoop because you refuse to take math EVER again. It makes me nervous. Like those dreams I have where I am walking along a tightrope and tipping both ways, and the smallest thing will effect which way that I fall. Is there ever really a RIGHT decision? A BEST decision? I wish there was. I wish it was that simple. I wish we were all born to be one thing and it was written on the bottom of our left foot so that we might not have to stress so much about it. Although I guess that would kind of limit a lot of people. I'm just tired is all.

It is starting to get cold but it was a gorgeous crisp clear sunny day today. Ahhhh! Can I admit that I loved the weather despite the cold? And that the crispness even made the day even better? I must be on crack again.

Sometimes I worry...

I feel like I look at people more now than I used to. Like when I am walking down the street, I look people in the eye when I pass them. I never used to do that but I have started recently and felt pretty good about it. Until I realized that I was suddenly accountable for saying hi to people I know. Like people from work. But I am terrible at recognizing people. Probably because I have spent most of my life avoiding eye contact with people and have never developed the skill. There are about 60 people in my office and I have regular contact with about 12 of them. Plus I am out of the office on the road about 60% of the time. The rest, I think they think I am a big snob. When I am in the office, I smile and say hi to everybody. When I am out of the office, on the streets, I walk fast (as I always do), make eye contact, and usually don't say hi or smile to anyone because I don't recognize anyone. But I have managed to make eye contact with people from my work (who I dont' recognize) and then ignore them and kept walking. Only to see them in my office building, minutes later. Arhghh. Maybe it was better to keep my eyes to the ground.

Now, I am paranoid when I am walking in the vicinity of my office. I smile at everyone. And if I don't, then the paranoia creeps in ("does that women in jogging pants that I just ignored work at my office?") and then I feel guilty.

I just want people to like me. No, not necessarily even like me. Just not hate me. I don't want people to think I am a big snob. When it isn't my fault. Maybe the fact that I still don't know everyone in my office yet actually MAKES me a big snob. I'm so confused.

It is really not the end of the world. I can only try my best, right?

Wha' happen?

Wow, where did the summer go? Today we play my last Ultimate Frisbee game of the year... outside and lucky we never had to face any snow. This photo was taken back when I first started in May.

Oh Wallpaper!

Today I went out of town for work. Drove out to Waterloo for the day, to do four presentations. At 11, 1, 3 and 7. Spent like 10 hours with the same two ladies who were also presenting. There was a bit of a generation gap between us. During lunch we talked about wallpaper for the entire hour. WALLPAPER! I wanted to cry.

It was a long day. That is all I will say. Driving home in fog as thick as oatmeal was also not fun. But I made it home in one piece so I am happy. The one thing that really ticked me off today, more than anything else, was those damned hipsters. Those bloody suede slouch booted, studded belt-wearing hipsters parked their cars in the parking lot I usually use, because THEY have a social life and are out for drinks in my hip little neighbourhood on a Thursday night. Grrrr. Damn you hipsters for making me park my rental in a lot 15 minutes away from my house. Wait a minute... I thought hipsters don't drive cars, but only ride funky old bikes? Even worse, my lot was filled with cars driven by POSEUR HIPSTERS! Can it get any worse than that? I don't think so!

Silvery Mullets

I've noticed that a large percentage of male Toronto Transit Authority street car and bus drivers have silvery mullets. I like it. It goes perfectly with the maroon jacket and grey trousers they wear.

Tonight, I am not working. I am catching up on some things I have needed to do for a while. One of them is cooking a meal for myself. Sorry Jared, I am getting pretty sick of Subway, every day.

I am starting to get excited about Christmas. There is just something so special about that magical time of year, where there isn't much to do at work and you get invited over to people's houses to drink eggnog with liquor, or cider with liquor, and you do a lot of shopping and eat a lot of seafood and cookies. At least that is my tradition.

John Mayer actually has a really funny blog. He made a great prediction about Borat and how it will effect us all in the coming months. Perhaps Dionne Warwick's Psychic Friends Network could be a second job for him? I found his blog through Perez Hilton's website. Perez Hilton is a gossiping blogger whose site I have become addicted to in my recent months of stress. Most of it is just nasty shite, but it is somehow comforting to read about some of the shite that goes down in celebrity-ville. Plus, other than the online newspapers that I read, nothing else is updated about 20 times a day, so it is instant gratification. With the blogs I read, they are updated once a day max, so it is nice to be able to rely on Perez to give me something fresh to read almost every time i go online. Plus where else am I going to read about Alien Cruise, Nicole Ritchie, and Lance and Matt's love affair? Hmmm?

Issues

This is a portion of an article that was in the Globe and Mail today:

The federal government pledged more than $40-million on Sunday towards microfinance projects in Asia, Africa and Latin America that help poor people access financial services.

Foreign Minister Peter Mackay said the money will be dispersed through Développement International Desjardins, Canadian Co-operative Association and Oxfam Québec.

He made the announcement to about 2,000 people from around the world, who gathered for a four-day summit in Halifax to discuss how to increase financial access for the poorest people on the planet.

The Global Microcredit Summit comes just a month after Muhammad Yunus and the Grameen Bank he founded won this year's Nobel Peace Prize. The premise of his bank is simple: providing tiny loans and training to poor people – women in particular – can create self-sufficiency and benefit whole communities.

Then I clicked to read what comments people made about the article. I always tell myself not to do it, because it gets me so upset, but I always click and I always get upset. Especially by comments like this:

dave srigley from Toronto, Canada writes: I am really very tired with my tax dollars being used for the benefit of foreigners.

James Cyr from Balmertown, writes: This money is not going to do one bit to 'alleviate poverty'. I resent my tax dollars going towards a farce like this!

Sometimes I get so very tired.

It has been a busy weekend. And I am fighting a bit of a cold. Having ginger in my tea will hopefully help.

For a long time - ok - a REALLY long time, like 15 years, I couldn't stand ginger. The smell of it would make me nauseous. I didn't want it in any of my food. Because I associated it with this time when I got sick when I was 10.

Picture it: Winnipeg, 1984. First trip to a province other than Ontario to visit Uncle R and family. I remember having my first rootbeer float. Going to the Canadian Mint where the money is made and that there was glass floors, horrifying me because then everyone would be able to see up women's skirts. Then one night we went to a fancy Japanese restaurant. It was one of those places where you all sit around a grill and the chef grills and chops everything up in front of you. Everything was so exciting and good! But so different tasting. In Sault Ste Marie, I don't think I had ever had anything with ginger in it before. It may have been too much for my bland, white-bread stomach to handle. Then came dessert, orange sherbet with chocolate chips. I'll never forget it. I was starting to feel a little woozy by this point. I had a headache and felt nauseous, initially blaming the strange combo of orange and chocolate (a combination I still dislike to this day). Once back at the house it was time for bed. My brother and I sharing a room, I had my Cabbage Patch doll Maggie with me. She had short blond wool hair. In the middle of the night I woke up sweating and feeling gross and suddenly barfed all over my Cabbage Patch kid's head (and the bed). I swear, her wool hair was never the same. My brother, being the one who usually puked, excitedly ran downstairs to tell my mom. She cleaned it up, got some new sheets and told me that the strange food probably just upset my stomach and put me back to sleep. About a half of an hour later, I woke up, feeling sick again. This time I had the insight to make a run for the bathroom. Halfway there I vomited all over the hallway, proceeded to walk THROUGH the puke and then continued my puking in the bathroom. This time, my mom brought me and a bowl downstairs so she could keep an eye on me while I slept. I woke up once again, not feeling the best but not wanting to wake up my mom by puking in front of her so I walked quickly and calmly to the downstairs bathroom before I opened the door and threw up. Only this time I opened the wrong door. It was the sauna, not the bathroom. I'm not sure if THAT smell ever went away.

2 things:

1) It amazes me that I had the capacity to throw up that many times. That was just so much vomit in me.

2) Kenya saved the day as far as getting me to be able to each ginger again. It was the ginger cookies and the Stoney Tangaweezi (Ginger Beer).

Detour

Strange the things that get strangers to talk to one another in this city. Today I left work with a plan to meet Viv for dinner. She's back in town after Paris and I haven't seen her in 2 years. 2 YEARS. As I walked to the subway I noticed the police cars, firetrucks, ambulances, sirens, flashing lights. I was REALLY hoping it was just a bomb threat in a near by office building. No dice. All anyone said was that the power was out and the subways weren't working from Eglinton to Bloor along the Yonge Line. RIGHT. POWER OUT. AKA there must have been a jumper. ANYWAY, I was waiting for a bus but on Eglinton it is impossible so I huffed my way down to St Clair and managed to get on a westward bus. It was filled with women. I really saw no men other than the driver. I asked someone if anyone knew if the University line was running. Suddenly we got into the topic of subway jumpers and how it happens once a day, you just don't hear about it that often, and why would anyone want to jump in front of a subway because you never die and then this one woman with a loud booming voice kept saying, "They have to back up the train, regardless of what state you are in underneath the train. So you get run over again. They have to back it up! The poor drivers!!" Then somehow we got into a group discussion about more effective ways about killing yourself and how pills would be good but then one woman was saying that she heard that when someone wants to kill themself they have a method in mind and stick to it even if it isn't logical. That is why they had to put the protective nets on the bridge over the DVP.

It was crazy. The funny thing is that the thing that shocked me the most was that so many of us were joined in this conversation. Slowly, as more people boarded the bus as we moved westward, the conversations died off and people stuck to talking to their friends in quieter voices.

Now, I am beat. And in knots. One of these days I am SO getting a massage. Tonight the only treat I get is an early bedtime.

Yellow Birds

On Thursday after work I flew to Vancouver. I tried to unwind in the plane. I didn't want to carry my stress over to my fun weekend on the other side of the country. I think I have been to Vancouver about 5 times now. It is really one of my favourite places. A nice city with great shops and restaurants and mountains and water and beaches accessible to the city! But every time I had visited in the past, I had been really lucky and only experienced amazing sunny weather. This time it rained. A LOT. Something called the Pineapple Express - "a subtropical jet stream that brings warm, moist air from the south Pacific Ocean to the West Coast." Vancouver didn't get the worst of it, but it was still rather rainy. But it was actually ok. Because now I know what BC is like in the rain. And it was still fun. So good to see GENNY again! Super hospitality by the two G's and their crazy cats. Much eating of sushi (TWICE - once was Japanese tapas and then ghetto sushi!), CUPCAKES (which make me so happy and yet so ill, as I have demonstrated before), and yellow birds (delicious drinks with rum and lime and Galliano and vodka). Additionally, I got to see the Tragically Hip, Borat, and rode a ferry! Life is good. I love it when I am away from work and any stress I previously felt just melts away.

But now I am back and angry and irritated with everyone around me and mostly just feel like hiding in my room and eating pizza. I hate the darkness that comes with the winter and gloomy weather. Maybe I should buy a sun lamp. Maybe I should quit my job. Maybe I should start listening to Yanni and meditate. Maybe I should go to bed.

I've still got it

Rage. Rage it what I still have. I got into a screaming match with a taxi driver who tried to refuse my fare because I wasn't going to the airport from the train station. After I had calmed down (successfully in the cab), I realized I hadn't screamed like that since arguing with people attempting to rip me off in Kenya. I hate when people try and jerk me around.

The rage I think is actually frustration stemmed from my job. These past two days have been tough.

It is a good thing that I am taking off tomorrow night for Vancouver for 4 days. I need the escape. I need to regroup. Everything is getting to me lately.

The only good news is that today I received word that Ken Weatherwax was the child actor who played Pugsley Addams on the Addams Family. Do you remember the name Ken Weatherwax? Come on, think harder.

Ken Weatherwax was one of the people mentioned in the mysterious email I received from an elderly couple in California (Phyllis and Phil Shopbell) while I was in Kenya. They thought I was someone else (probably Kathy Sangster who apparently was also in Kenya although I can't say I ever met the woman whose personality I inadvertantly stole). I initially thought the letter was a ruse put together by one of my friends. It turns out I was mistaken and it is pretty much the funniest thing that has ever happened to me. (is that sad?)

Here is the letter:

Hi Kathy - When I got your initial notification of what you are doing, I was flabergasted, but not too surprised because of the "something different" streak that runs in your veins. I commend you for your courage and go-get-'em attitude that brings your skills to many others. I don't know if I could do it. Where did you find out the information, link, etc. to all this? I guess all teachers have those hidden sources that make for unique adventures.

I'm still trying to figure out how to "pay Preston's rent." You make it more difficult being so far away. BUT I did forward a little something from Missouri when I was back recently for U. of Missouri Homecoming (hadn't been back for 46 years!). Also attended my 50th high school reunion. Anyway, I was checking on whether your house sitter, mail gatherer, etc. ran across a UPS or Fed Ex Ground package sent to you. I don't want it to be lost, just held for your return. When you get back, I'll ask you about some place you was like to have some $$ sent in your honor to help the people you have been associated with the last few months with less circumstances.

I acted as a precinct INSPECTOR (top monkey), while Phyllis was the JUDGE, for the CA Special Election two days ago, where Arnold got his come-uppance. The Precinct was our voting place at a local retirement center, Eskaton Village. Their living room was really a lot nicer than a fire station or a church. Long 15-hour day. Pizza & beer, both bad for my diabetes diet, but necessary for my sanity, was the reward after turning in voting machine, ballots, etc.

Paisley is home, having broken off her engagement to Ken Weatherwax. Hopes to find a job shortly while she finishes up her masters at the local Chapman U. campus. It's best that she explain everything to you.

Have you made a decision about whether you're going to "extend?"

All for now. Much love, PHIL