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It seems I have a new "phobia". I'm sure that's not the right word for it but I'm at a loss to describe it any other way.

I joined this swapmamas site because the idea seemed intriguing. Based on my experience so far I can't say I'd recommend it. Mostly I wasted a lot of time looking at things people had to offer that I wasn't interested in. One day though I stumbled on a woman looking for bookmarks and she had books to offer. I contacted her, we worked out a trade, I wove up some bookmarks using tablet weaving and mailed them off and waited patiently for my books to arrive. A few days after sending them she sent a message saying "thanks for the bookmarks, I'll send your books tomorrow". A few weeks later, no books. I sent a follow-up message asking if the books had been lost by the post office or if she'd just been too busy with the holidays and all. I tried to sound like I was just giving a gentle reminder. No response. A week later I hit the site again to send a follow-up message and her account had been deleted.

Because I'd mailed the bookmarks I had a real-life point of contact, and it happened to be her office. I'm not sure I'd like someone I'd ripped off on the internet having the contact information for my boss, so I guess that wasn't as well thought-out as she'd planned.

Here's the thing though, I sat and looked at that number on my screen for a good hour before getting up the guts to call her. And when I did call my stomach was all aflutter like I was calling to follow up on a failed job interview or something. The anxiety that comes with wanting to avoid conflict while still trying to figure out how to get what you want out of the interaction and knowing that the other person holds all the cards. I can't make someone tell me why I didn't get the job, and I can't make this woman send me my promised books, even though in both situations it would be the right thing for them to do. At the end of it I was left feeling much the same as with a failed job interview call. Relieved that it was over and that I could at least say I'd done what I could. But at the same time feeling like I'd failed. I never feel like interviewers give me real feedback I can use. Mostly they just come up with the old "the other candidate was more qualified/had seniority" bullshit. And while this woman said she'd "send those right out" I can't help but feel that she "lost" my contact information on purpose and I'm never seeing those books.

I don't think of myself as a coward. And I don't think of myself as someone who avoids conflicts in general. So what is it about these kinds of situations that bother me so much?
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Pregnancy to me is very much a means to and end. I'm not one of these women who really enjoys each and every little kick as a bonding experience. Heck, when you get right down to it I'm not really that in to the whole baby thing. I'm looking forward to a little person who can talk, and learn, and play with us. It's not that I'll actively dislike the baby experience I don't think, it's just that I'm definitely more jazzed about the next stage, and while I can find other people's kids age 3 and up kind of interesting, I'm not the least bit interested in other people's babies or toddlers.

Getting back to the pregnancy thing... I'm getting the impression that this is a little like being obese. Granted it's all in one spot, so I'm sure there are more ways that being obese sucks, and of course the fact that it's obviously a pregnancy saves me from the external emotional effects of strangers being rude, but it's still enough of an inconvenience that I wonder how the massively obese let themselves get this way and it's having an effect on my psyche. If I had a choice, I'd put an end to this immediately, like if it was a weight problem and not a "having a baby, this comes with the territory" kind of thing. And I want to be clear, this is not like being a little bit heavy, or a bit above average or the "healthy BMI", I am freaking massive.

intimate stuff that may be TMI behind the cut )

And that is why there are very few pictures of me pregnant. I feel fat and useless. And please don't come out with any of the "you're pregnant and beautiful" baloney. It would be like telling an anorexic girl that she's skinny enough. What you say and how I feel are not related, and what you say isn't going to have an effect on how I feel. You saying it just makes me feel awkward because yeah, duh, I know I'm not fat, I just feel that way. I won't run from a camera, so if I happen to be out somewhere doing the tourist thing and end up in a picture that's fine. I've had pics taken when my sister visited and again when my parents visited. But I am not setting up a photo session just to capture my hugeness, so please don't ask.

Having gotten all that off my chest I think I'm off to putter around the house on some project before I get too large to be able to reach it.
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If anyone ever asks you if you'd mind sewing them a blackout curtain, just say "I'll do you a favour by not killing you for even asking".

Blackout fabric is the most vile stuff in the world to work with. It's a lightweight meshy fabric with plastic applied to one side. The idea is that you put the plastic towards the back side of your fashion fabric and it provides darkness and insulation. Sounds all fine and good, but the reality of this fabric is massive amounts of suck.

First, I try to line up my lining fabric on my pretty fabric. The rubbery-plastic stuff makes it kind of stiff and sticky, so I have a hard time lining it up right, but eventually I defeat the fabric. Then I have to run it through the sewing machine, and all of a sudden, the fabric that was sticky and uncooperative upstairs turns into a completely different, slippery uncooperative beast under the presser foot. I get the hems sewn but they're all lumpy and bumpy and evil. I don't care enough to unpick it because it's just home-dec, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. It also weighs a fucking tonne. Nothing like trying to wrestle 5 pounds of fabric across a sewing table. Finally, when I hang it, it's like hanging a piece of cardboard. No drape or movement or life to this plastic stuff at all. To make matters worse, it doesn't completely black out the room anyway because of course light can seep in around the edges. I'll let it settle overnight and hem it tomorrow. I don't want to face any more of that crap today.

I am infinitely grateful I opted not to bother with blackout in the master where I have 6 panels to do instead of 1.

In other news I think I had a revelation today on sewing and artistic motivation... I don't really like sewing home dec and I never knew why. It's dirt simple to do except of course for the sheer volume of fabric you have to tackle. Nothing but straight lines, easy measurements and simple hems. And it's something you can easily polish off in a day. Clothing on the other hand takes much longer, requires a lot more measuring and fiddling, and can go oh so very wrong at many points in the process. But when it works out I feel sooooo much better than when I finish a curtain. I think it's because I'm a tactile person. Sure, I see the results of my work in home dec pieces much more than a costume that gets pulled out once a month at best, but there's something nurturing about making a piece of clothing that making a curtain or throw pillow just doesn't accomplish. It's making something for someone in particular, and seeing them move and live in it, and if it's mine, feeling it against my skin. Stuff I just don't get out of something I make to hang on a curtain rod. I wonder if that's why I never finished that quilt I started with my mother in law. Sure, it's mighty pretty, and quilting is more creative and challenging than a curtain, but the end result is something cold and distant. Once you've put that much work into it, you don't generally use it on a bed and get it all messed up, so it gets thrown over a stair rail, or hung on a wall as art. It doesn't go out in the world and make an entrance at a party, or shoot a really great round of archery, or end up at the bottom of a pile of dead on the battle-field. I like my art to be living, touchable, washed, worn and eventually worn out. Not that I don't have my share of unfinished costume projects in my sewing pantry too. Though the ones that wind up in there tend to be the ones that just weren't going the right direction and I'm waiting on the right moment to try to save them.

Interesting revelation, and I do eventually hope to get that quilt done and displayed because it is mighty pretty and it is pretty close to finished. But I think this explains why it is near the bottom of the priority list.

All that said, other than sewing a tunic for my neighbour's son I haven't sewn a new piece of clothing in ages. Nothing but freaking curtains lately. Something about not wanting to be on display to my neighbours all the time I guess. I hate when necessity trumps creative desires.

Musings

Aug. 11th, 2008 02:01 pm
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Google Maps lets you fiddle with the route when you click "find directions". When I first search Edmonton to Austin it says: 3,737km 1 day 11 hours (going down to the border through Calgary). When I fiddle (going across on a diagonal to Regina) I can get the mileage down to 3,492km, but the time jumps to 1 day 14 hours. How is it that I can reduce my trip by 245 km but manage to increase the time it will take by 3 hours ?!?!?

The average driving speed on the first trip is 106 km/h with the second route it drops to 92 km/h. Are those roads really that slow??? Is there any way to find out what the posted speed limit along a route is other than by trusting Google maps' estimates?

So here's some interesting analysis of speeding... Edmonton to Calgary is 298km. The speed limit is 110 km/h for most of the trip. That makes the trip 2hrs 42 min. Increase your speed to 124, the same increase as the difference between the trips above, and you get to Calgary in 2 hours 24 minutes. A savings of only 18 minutes. If you speed on a short trip in the city your time saved generally goes down to less than it takes to get a coffee in Tim Horton's, if you save any time at all, which lights generally prevent you from doing. But you speed by 14 km/h over a distance like Edmonton to Austin (taking that second route but at the speed of the first) and you can save 5 hours on the shorter trip!!! That's like an extra half-day on the road! From that, one could conclude that speeding on a short trip isn't worth it, but the longer the trip, the better the pay-off you can get by speeding, thus making it worth the risk. Of course if you look at 5 hours in the grand scheme of your life it all becomes pointless again. I will probably always speed, no matter how many tickets I get, it's just interesting to look at the behaviour that drives it and how I try to rationalize a decision that is entirely based on emotion.

Also, being a permanent employee when you're not actually is teh sux. I just got my first permanent paycheque and have discovered that I am paying 54.49 towards a long term disability plan that I am never going to use, and in exchange I get an extra week of vacation a year, which works out to 19% of a day each pay period or 1.3 hours. I'd rather have the $55 than 1.3 hours more of vacation time since the vacation works out to worth less. Also, they are taking $118.51 towards a pension that I will never need or use. I can get the money back when I leave, but that's a pain in the bum. All told, I am taking home less after my raise than I did before - boo.

Other things that are a pain in the bum... little shits who steal stuff from your car when your husband leaves it unlocked. I asked Jason to bring in the last of the camping stuff from the car on Thursday night so on Friday I could vacuum and clean the car for picking up my parents from the airport. He brought the stuff in but forgot to lock it. He didn't even bring the stuff in until like midnight, so God knows what time those kids were out stealing stuff. They took a bunch of CDs without cases (worthless to anyone but me as pawn shops and used CD stores won't take them), my ipod adapter (but not the ipod, which lives in my purse, thank god) and my collection of lip balms - ????? Seriously, who steals someone else's lip balm - yuck!!!

I now have to purchase a new ipod car adapter and replace a bunch of relatively rare CDs which are probably at the bottom of a dumpster right now - sigh. When crap like this happens it reminds me why I am so glad to be leaving this place. I'm sure most of Edmonton isn't crappy like this, but not having a private garage and living in a sketchy neighbourhood because it's all we can afford is CRAPPY!!!
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I’m feeling a little off. I’m lazy and accomplishing nothing. I can’t find the motivation to do anything, even the things I normally enjoy. I feel like I don’t have a lot of energy or get-up-and-go. I’m not sleeping well and I’m antsy. I’m just not comfortable in my own skin.

Me complaining about all the little things that don’t really matter )
With all the annoyances and my antsyness it’s easy to lose sight of the things that I am thankful for. I have a husband and puppies I love and who treat me well and love me back. I have parents I like and admire who also love me, great in-laws and a sister I miss constantly. I have a job that pays well and a boss who is really nice. I have a roof over my head and rooms large enough to fulfill our needs if I could just keep them tidy. We eat well and are generally pretty healthy, no major complaints anyway. We could always stand to be a little more fit, but we’re not sick at all. I have a lot of friends out here whose company I really, truly enjoy, and a lot of friends back home who would welcome me on my return.

Basic needs (food & shelter), health and relationships – that’s what a good life is all about right? So when all of that is going right, why am I getting my knickers in a knot over the little junk that’s not perfect. And why am I letting my responses to the things that don’t matter jeopardize the things that do?

Which brings me to the end of this whole wandering rant… you guys are my friends, and no matter how much I don’t call, or drift away and stop reading LJ or otherwise vanish from your lives, please know that I love you all and I really appreciate you being there for me. Thanks guys.
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Months ago I read a post by [livejournal.com profile] bridgeoutahead that talked about expectations and disappointment. She apparently has a habit of living her whole life waiting for the next great thing, building it up and being sorely disappointed when it arrives and doesn't live up to the anticipation and expectations built in the lead-up. I have to admit, I'm one of those types too. I'm not always disappointed, and I can generally stay enough in the moment to enjoy things as I'm doing them, or be distracted by shiny-pretties while I'm waiting, but there's definitely a lot of future-thinking in my life.

Right now I'm eagerly looking forward to my sister's visit in two weeks (also scrambling to make my home presentable as usual, but that's beside the point). And it just occurred to me that this is probably the only thing I have consistently looked forward to and always been completely happy with. True, we've had rainy camping trips and hail storms and flat tires, and no, I don't think we've ever managed to squeeze in everything we thought we'd do, but looking back, it's always been a really great week (or more). There's few things I enjoy more right now than spending time with my sister.

Now anyone knows us will also know that we fought like cats and dogs when we were kids. Mum always said "some day you two will be best friends" and we probably stuck our tongue out at her and ran out of the room screaming about what a bitch the sister was being. I am shocked and amazed as always at her prophetic visions. And yes, I can admit it, Mum was right.

Facebook

Apr. 9th, 2007 03:41 pm
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I gave in to all the invites and joined facebook. Not sure how much traffic it will receive when the initial interest wears off as I cannot access it from work, but I joined it anyway.

The somewhat interesting thing has been seeing all the old faces from public school. I actually found a group called "you, me and my performance sweater" for Pearson, which anyone on my friends-list who went to that school will totally get. Saw a lot of old friends there, and some old public school rivals. The upside to facebook is the privacy features... the downside to facebook is the privacy features. I'm vaguely interested in seeing what is new in these people's lives... but only vaguely. I'm not quite interested enough to "friend" them and open up the lines of communication on an on-going basis. All I really want is the coles-notes version... "I live here, I'm married/single/# kids, I work in this line of work". I don't really care to know more, and I don't necessarily want to even keep what information I do get in my brain anywhere.

Also on facebook I was able to find a link to the school and to their TREMENDOUSLY TACKY website. http://www.tvdsb.on.ca/pearson/ for the curious. Loved to see that they have retained many of the old traditions, including the lame-ass balloon mascots. Linked to the school's website was an alumni blog. I was interested to see one of my old rivals was the first to post. He and I were competing attention whores in public school, even pre-dating our time at Pearson. What was intensely amusing about his post was that it was entirely in the third person, and also included instructions to google him... which I did... the first link under his name... a female jazz singer! I imagine that wasn't what he expected would come up first. Heh.

Did make me give some thought as to where I am... if asked by any of my former classmates at any school I have ever attended (from public school right up to Ivey), would I be proud of what I have accomplished, would I be pleased to tell them about where I work and what I do today? Which then got me to thinking... am I more worried about external validation or my own happiness? Are the two intertwined? If I find a great job that I genuinely enjoy, will I be shouting it from the rooftops no matter what others may think of it? And am I only ashamed of this job because I hate it so intensely? Is the fact that I care what others think to some degree, maybe pointing me in the wrong direction with my life?

Anyway, almost done my miserable shift and I have derby practice tonight - woot!
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Jason's office offered to take us all to see 300 for free on Monday, in the Imax theatre. Now we all remember what happened to me last time I went to this movie in this theatre right? I'm running late from work (as usual) so I arrive at the theatre breathless and look for my husband, who has arrived an hour before the movie to secure seats for us. And to my complete astonishment, he's seated us in THE EXACT SAME SEATS as last time.

I'm so flustered I just take my seat and say nothing, but I am silently seething. I was nervous enough about the fact that I brought the same purse (having run out of time to empty it and leave it in the car like I'd planned), but to be seated in the SAME SEATS at the same movie, it's just a little too similar to be comfortable.

So I spend the entire movie fussing with and checking on my purse, and every time the movie gets a little enjoyable, I'm just thinking "by this point last time, my stuff had already been stolen", which rather takes you out of the movie and steals all the enjoyment from it.

After the movie I bring it up with him. He's stunned. I try to explain the psychology of being a victim to him. How it's not just about losing your stuff, it's also about losing trust in the people around you and in your surroundings. And with it being so fresh a wound, and it being the same experience in every other way, it was just too similar to be comfortable. And while getting back on the horse may be a good healing technique, generally, it's better if the person in question gets to choose when to remount, rather than being shoved up there by someone else.

He's still stunned. "But it was a different experience, we were sitting with different people." I patiently explain to him that while *he* was sitting with different people, that *he* was sitting with friends from work, that for *me* it was no different, as they were still complete strangers.

He still didn't really have anything to say. He kinda understands what I meant, but at the same time, he doesn't seem to get that he was supposed to anticipate it. He's never been a victim of theft or anything really. I tried to put it in terms he would understand... so if you ate something and you got REALLY sick after, would you think it was thoughtless if I took you to a restaurant and you came a little late, so I ordered that item for you. What would you do? He answered that he'd probably eat it, but feel uncomfortable doing so. Which makes it a great analogy, since I sat in the seat, not wanting to make a scene, and just felt bad about it.

I explained to him as well that it's not just me that he needs to think about. That he should think about other people in the same terms. If you *know* someone has gone through a really uncomfortable or traumatic experience, it is your responsibility to ensure that you do not put them in the same situation if it can be avoided. That if our dogs, friends, or future children have an uncomfortable experience, that it is not okay for him to put them in the same situation and think that it's okay if he "didn't mean to". If you don't know that someone had a traumatic childhood experience with clowns, or an allergy to shellfish, then it's not really your fault. But if they told you, if it's something you are aware of, then you really should *try* to think about your actions and how it may impact them. And yeah, okay, so sometimes we forget things. I don't imagine that all the people who seem to forget my cat allergy when they invite me somewhere are doing so out of maliciousness. But if I tell them about it only a few hours before the invite and they choose not to tell me they own cats, yes I take it personally. And similarly, when my husband knows I was robbed only a week before, and am STILL dealing with getting my life back in order (just got my replacement credit cards, still waiting on the replacement driver's license to arrive and my credit is going to have a flag on it for 6 years), yes, I do take it personally that he didn't consider my feelings when he chose those seats.

Am I over-reacting, or is it reasonable to expect someone, my life partner no less, to be a little sensitive to the fact that I had my purse stolen from that exact theatre, from those exact seats, in that exact film, only a week before?
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Anyone watch Oprah yesterday? She had all these people on talking about some DVD and book combo called "The Secret". Basically saying the whole universe is mind over matter, and that the secret to getting what you want is simply to visualize what you want and ask for it, believe that you will get it, and act in a manner that will promote your goals. And of course, the corresponding rule in this equation is that if you don't get what you want, that you must be blocking yourself by not truly believing. Everyone seems to be hailing this as some great accomplishment and startling, life-changing revelation. As far as I can figure, this is all a load of crap. That stuff is easy and obvious. If you know where you want to do, the "secret" is to just keep running that way. And thus, obviously, any steps you take that are in a different direction are going to take you further from your goal. Anyone should be able to see that without even looking that closely at the idea. It's not that their idea is wrong, it's just that it's so obvious I can't believe anyone would pay for it.

The "teachers" of this secret, and the people that are making a crapload of money off this DVD, are those "motivational speaker" types whose lives were the best examples they could come up with for "before" stories. I always wonder what happens to these people a couple of years down the road. One of them, for example, had already come to the brink of bankruptcy twice. I wonder a decade down the road, if he's not there again despite the boatload of money he's making today. I always wonder what is the difference between this kind of person, the kind that does the motivational speaking gig, and a con artist. They both make their money by telling you the stuff you want to hear.

Anyway, getting away from the hope for schadenfreude, it got me to thinking. In a way I'm sure they're right. Being successful is simply a matter of defining success and then striving for it. As "groundbreaking" as this secret is, I think they are missing the point entirely. The trick to having a successful life is not simply achieving goals, but on setting the right goals. The ones that will actually make you happy. Telling someone how to do something is relatively easy, whether it's getting out of debt, losing weight, or meeting people to date. Telling them or helping them to decide which of these goals will actually make them happy is a whole heck of a lot harder. The world is full of unhappy people with great accomplishments. If someone finds the secret to that little detail I'll buy.

So yeah, just me again whining that I have no idea where I want to go and what I want to do with myself. The reason I'm not moving forward is that I have no idea where I want to go. And as tempting as it is to just keep moving and give myself an illusion that I'm on my way towards something, I think I really need to pull over and check the map. Problem being I don't know how to read my own map. What kind of professional can help you chart a path for your life and help you find your passion?

In other news, had a little e-bay spree a few weeks ago. Never bought anything on e-bay before. Quite pleased with my first attempt. A little black Tripp NYC dress that fits like a glove. Smells a little funny though. Even Anna thinks it's a bit odd. She kept coming up, sniffing the dress, then sniffing my face or hands, as if to say "gee mom, that's something real funny you rolled in there". I'll post pics of the fab new dress later, in the meantime, for the curious, here's the link to the auction.
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I didn't think I was annoyed, but looking at anything I've posted or e-mailed today it has become rather clear. I am in a pissy, terse kind of mood. Strange since I've gotten good advice, good stuff to mull over from [livejournal.com profile] muchado so I can progress my relationship with my husband and with myself, and some great links from Odette for clasps I've been looking for. I have no idea why I'm in an obviously snitty mood. And yet I've posted some of the most acid-tongued things I've ever written today. Not sure of the cause, but thinking it might be time to walk away from the internet and play with glass or fabric instead. It won't get hurt if I get short with it.
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Interestingly, I seem to be going through a phase of remembering dreams. Let's see what y'all make of this:

First off, this is not *my* family in the dream. *My* family consists of mum, dad, sister, dream family has mum, dad and two sisters, none of which resemble real-life family members. I was either the oldest or the middle sibling in this dream.

We start out heading to the grocery store in a van. I am driving. We try to short-cut through a school parking lot, get frustrated, have to go back out the way we came, nothing terribly unusual. The drive to the supermarket apparently involves driving through the countryside, past farms and stuff. Still weird, but normalish.

We get home, we're having dinner. Little sister is going to introduce her boyfriend to the family. She runs him past myself and other sister first. Boyfriend is a talking mouse. Like Stewart Little. Sisters decide this boyfriend will not fly with the parents. Little sister has to call in an emergency back-up fake boyfriend to introduce to the parents. Fake boyfriend is a guy she knows from school, tall, blond. Family starts to smoke in the house, I head out to the back balcony in disgust (I said this wasn't my family or anything like it). Fake boyfriend follows me out, where we get to chatting and find out our attraction is mutual, but we have to hide it because he is pretending to be sister's boyfriend at the moment.

Cut to new scene, the dad sends me out back to bring in a strawberry for dessert. Yes, A strawberry to feed a group of 6 people. But it makes sense because the strawberry is the size of a cantaloupe. I eat a quarter of it and hope no one notices.

While I am out in the backyard harvesting the strawberry, there is a comedian out there performing?!?! He has a sidekick, a naked asian guy who is climbing around in a tree pretending to be a monkey (think the guy from Saturday Night Live, Mango? who did that bit for a few years). Naked Asian guy has a penis that goes down to his knees!!! And it has two heads!?!?!

At this point the dream is over as hubby wakes me up because I had to take the car in to be fixed today (again, stupid CD player and interior lights).

Anyone want to take a stab at what this means? Teeth falling out was easy and normal. Anyone want to take a stab at naked asian guy, mouse boyfriend and giant strawberry? Hmmm... it must be about size...

And now, I am terribly uncomfortable as I have the world's worst indigestion. I have lost count of how many Tumms I've eaten, but I have stopped as I am sure there is a limit beyond which one should not go. Arrrrrggghhhh for heartburn.
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I'm having nightmares again. Or ones that I remember at any rate. Last night I dreamed my teeth were falling out. I do dream this a lot. In this case, I think I burnt my gums a little yesterday drinking overly hot tea and I flossed for the first time in let's not say how long, so there was a bit of pain there too. In fact, they still hurt now, so I can see where the dreams are finding inspiration. Anyway, I dream that they fall out. Not all at once, but one at a time over a period of time, and I felt like there was nothing I could do to stop the eventual, inevitable loss of all my teeth. I was trying. I think I had gotten braces in an attempt to keep them in. I was asking my mother what I should do about it. And here's where things went a little off-track from the usual... in the asking for help, me at my lowest point of the narrative, as I'm holding a tooth that has just fallen out and showing it to my mother, I'm being irritated by this Asian girl who has no idea what she's stumbled into, or that I might be embarrassed by my failings. Am I still that bothered that Diana was there to witness my desk packing and was too stupid to realize she was seeing me at a low point?

In other news, I finally got off my ass and saw a doctor last week for my wrist. It's been bugging me off and on since July. At some points it has been so bad that I simply choose not to use my right hand (like the entire drive home to Ontario where it sat in my lap motionless for 3 days). I hit a bad point again last week. I was taking the dogs on a walk. They were being their usual over-excited, uncontrollable selves. They took off from our front gate at a run, and when they hit the end of the leash, the pain was so great that I dropped the leashes. We live at the intersection of two major highways, so I can't even put into words how not good this is. Luckily their loyalty must have increased in the last few months because when I yelled for them to come back NOW, they both did. Lizzy did her old run back, tag and I'm off, but I was able to grab her. Anna came back and rolled over on her back next to me. Which was really surprising as she is the one least likely to listen most of the time. There must have been something in my voice this time...

So I got x-rays and bloodwork. The bloodwork was extensive and hurt like a sunovabitch. It even hurt when she lifted the cotton ball after the "apply pressure" part, and that NEVER hurt before. My mother figured because I had been in pain for so long that I was probably hypersensitive or something. However, judging by the toonie-sized bruise on the inside of my arm, I just figure she screwed up and went through the vein, which always hurts.

On the employment front, I think I've decided I want to try something different. Accounting may be a tolerable job, but I don't think I want to live with tolerable. If I have to live in Edmonton, and while I have a little bit of time to collect EI and think about where I want to go, I'm thinking it may be time to try to catch my dream job too. I'm not sure I want to talk about it too extensively yet as I'm not really fond of making statements of intent and then facing the possibility of public failure if I can't make it work.

And finally, next weekend is coronet and I KNOW I'm getting called into court. I have been chosen to replace the old principality exchequer, and thus am required to swear fealty, and I've been told we're doing the official change-over and swearing in court next weekend. So I'm thinking of making a new outfit. Not sure I'll be able to get it done, but it will be nice to try. I also have to get the spare room all cleared out for [livejournal.com profile] rectangularcat, whose visit I am very much looking forward to. Lots to do before next weekend. Which means I should probably get off the internet and get to it.
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Yup, this about says it. All those times I put in less effort than anyone thought possible and got mad at others who got better marks and jobs ahead of me because I knew they weren't as smart. Smart doesn't count for much when combined with lazy. And it looks like I'm about to screw it all up again. Exam on Saturday, and I handed in my last assignment late so I might not even be allowed to write it. And I know I will resent the blonde on the other side of the desk because I know in a week when the results come out that she will have passed and I will fail. So if I know this is the pattern, and that it's so obvious even a dopy online quiz can catch it, then why do I keep doing it over and over again?


Cain

You scored 70% Pride, 52% Envy, 37% Ambition, and 65% Deceitfulness!

You are Cain, the world�s first murderer and one of the Bible�s first
villains. You murdered your brother in cold blood just because God
liked your brother�s offering more than He liked yours. Only an
envious/cruel person could commit such a horrible act for a reason
that, quite frankly, was incredibly stupid. To make matters worse, you
even tried to lie to God about it afterwards. I guess you couldn�t help
yourself; you like to deceive people and you are probably somewhat good
at it. When God decided that your offering was unacceptable, your
countenance immediately fell and you became exceeding wroth. In other
words, you lost your composure and got pissed off. This is because you
are a rather prideful person, and can't stand criticism from God or
anybody else. Of course, all of this could have been avoided if you
just gave God a decent offering. Seeing that you are not much of a hard
worker, let alone an overachiever, you figured that you�d give God a
�just enough to get by� offering. Unfortunately, you failed. Maybe in
the future you�ll learn from this mistake and try not to be so lazy.












My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 80% on Pride
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 62% on Envy
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 16% on Ambition
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 82% on Deceitfulness




Link: The Which Biblical Villain Are You Test written by MetalliScats on OkCupid Free Online Dating
norsegirl: (Default)
Every year we feel this compulsion to make resolutions, spurred on largely by the media and the diet industry. And each year we inevitably break these resolutions and feel like crap. Some of us fall off the wagon the second after the words exit our lips (me) others manage to stay on until mid-june if they're really tenacious, but by the time back to school rolls around, all promises are forgotten, or lying in wait like little guilt-filled-niches of self-hate, waiting for next year's round of resolutions. So this year, I'm skipping on resolutions and setting goals. So how is a goal different from a resolution? I like to think that it is an acknowledgment of something I would like to achieve, that doesn't necessarily need to happen on a set time-line, but that I am acknowledging as a place I'd like to arrive at some time in the future. The journey may be long, but that's okay.

Goal #1: Get some projects completed and out of my sewing room.

We've all got these things, usually half-finished mundane alteration projects (altering is sooooo much less fun than creating) sitting around taking up space and making us feel guilty. Coincidentally, floating around my head are these great ideas for new projects. So I'm thinking that the way to achieve this goal is to complete at least one project before I am allowed to start a new one.

Goal #2: Start taking this flylady thing a little more seriously

I keep falling off the wagon with this one. I understand the concept of baby steps and all, but I'm still clinging to the old cycle of marathon cleanings followed by a period of re-establishing the disaster until I have time for another marathon. It's time I start tackling the areas of my house in which I spend most of my time and taking her planning and baby step things seriously. Therefore, tomorrow there will be no marathon cleaning to straighten up the front room (even though every molecule of my being thinks that must be the only way). Tomorrow, I do one load of laundry and a 27 thing fling in the front room (and the usual dinner and dishes and picking up after myself as I use things) and that's it. No more.

Goal #3: Get my academic life on-track

I just had to pay for an extension to my auditing course because for some unknown reason, in the 4 months I was looking for work and the 3 months I started work, I couldn't seem to get anything done on it. No, I'm not quite sure what is wrong with me, but this time, it gets done and I'm not paying for another stupid extension.

My little side-goal was to revisit some crafts I've learned but abandoned over the years, so today I picked up a few balls of yarn and some knitting needles at Wal-Mart and I'm going to try to make a scarf. I haven't done this since I was maybe 12 at the most, and I never did cast on for myself (Nana did it), or at least I don't remember ever doing it. One internet search later I'm knitting away, but I think I might have made it a little wide. I'll knit a few more rows and if it's ridiculous I guess I'll start over.

Anyway, my 2004 was pretty great, I'm hoping 2005 will be at least as good and I wish you all the best in this new year!

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