Things You Should Know About Me

  • I don’t use the food bank. I’m glad it’s there for people who need it, but I’m not one of them. So if you see me walking downtown, I’m not looking for it. You don’t have to ask me that question now.

  • I’m not looking for the Salvation army either. Glad they’re there, but unless I’m real close to the door, why would you automatically think I’m going there?

  • And, I don’t live in a nursing home! Just because I’m getting on a bus route which has St. Joseph’s in the name doesn’t mean I live at St. Joseph’s rehabilitation centre! It is a full loop, you know.

I am sick and tired of being treated like I’m helpless. Sometimes I ask for a little help. I don’t think that gives people license to treat me like I’m completely incapable of getting around or doing anything on my own. And sometimes I don’t even ask for help, and people are already assuming I can’t go anywhere safely. A lady offered me help getting home one night, I said I was fine, and she tailed me home anyway! I think I scared her though, because I phoned home and said, “I hope those footsteps belong to the lady who offered to help me, otherwise I don’t know who’s following me home!” Then she spoke up and sorta apologized. But gees! What is it about me that makes people think I’m either stupid or helpless or both? And would you walk up to anyone else walking down the street and randomly ask them, “Are you looking for the food bank?” How about, “Are you looking for the Salvation Army van?” Like, I’m walking past the Bank of Montreal, several stores, and you’d think my destination must be the food bank or the Salvation Army? Why? Ug it makes me bristle.

Today was the kicker, though, and it’s what made me right this post. I headed down to catch my bus. But apparently, there was some Christmas lights display on, and since our buses don’t have a proper terminal, arg, they got redirected to another location so the Christmas lights display could have the square. I discovered this by smacking into a wall of people! A man was nice enough to offer to give me a hand to where the buses were. Then he did the good old “What would you have ever done if I didn’t come along? trick. Oy yoy yoy that makes me mad. I appreciate your help, but I would have made it there, it just would have taken a bit longer. You are not a hero. You’re a nice person, and you’re appreciated, but you don’t need a medal and I don’t need your pity.

About halfway there, he said, hmmmI don’t see any buses down there. That would be, chief, because it’s not quite bus time! But he still wouldn’t believe me. He had to not listen to me, as I explained where the buses pull in, and he had to go ask some random traffic-directing police officer. Of course, he had no idea. Then I said what bus I wanted. He’s like, “Oh St. Joseph’s. Do you live at St. Joseph’s?” Again, why would you assume I lived there? I wouldn’t have even minded, “Do you work at St. Joseph’s?” But to assume I must be a patient is, well, bizarre.

Sorry to seem kind of bitter. I hate sounding like a whiner, so I hope that’s not how it comes off, but it probably does. I don’t mean to sound like you have to tread carefully when you’re talking to me. But like the song says, All I’m asking is for a little respect. Is that too much to ask?

Angels, Demons, and Annoyances!

I meant to write this post on Monday, but haven’t done it until today. Wow, that’s, um, very sucky. But here I go. I figureI should try and accomplish something even though the rain is making me feel like doing sweet dick all.

I just finished the book “Angels and Demons” by Dan Brown. Note to anyone interested in this stuff: Don’t read Angels and Demons swiftly followed by the DaVinci code, or vice versa. You’ll ruin one of the books. God this guy writes in a very similar style. He’s a good writer, just the way he does it is…well…way too similar. I know they’re a series, but does the Hassassin have to resemble Silas in his violence and dedication to his so-called master? Does the woman in the story always have to have lost a close relative? But most importantly, Does Robert Langdon have to be so goddamn pretentious, arrogant, and just simply annoying? Maybe he does, if so, way to go Dan Brown, you’ve done an awesome job. There are moments where I just want to slap him! Am I alone in this?

Like, why is it that in the middle of a high pressure scene, Robert Langdon starts to Reminisce about something he said while teaching some class of Harvard students about Symbology? Dude. When you’re being chased by police, being made to lay spread-eagle on the floor, now’s not the time to think about the good old days, so much so that you lose touch with reality.

And, why is it that, even in the face of being shown that all his research is somewhat flawed, he insists that he knows the answers? Ever heard of new information, bud? Maybe you shouldn’t tell the granddaughter of the dead guy that there’s no way he’s the head of a secret societey. After the little surprise ritual she witnessed in grandpa’s basement there, I think she’s a more qualified source than you!

And then there are things he does that just annoy me! Like, when the guy’s on the phone telling the church how he’s going to murder four cardinals and do it in public places, good old Robert stands up and yells at the speaker phone: “and what are you going to brand them with?” Really, dude, does that matter? And in the same phone call, after the guy makes some reference to something that happened in the 1600’s, Langdon has to start rhyming off historical facts. Gees dude, do you want to draw the guy’s attention? How about giving them the history lesson *after* he’s off the phone?

So, am I weird? Hopefully someone’s read the book, or both of the books, and knows what I’m talking about.

Um, I don’t think so.

Ok, spammers are really trying to bug me. I’m waiting for word from RBC (Royal Bank of Canada) on whether I got a job. Today, I got not one, but two spam from an address claiming to be Royal Bank of Canada. You can stop teasing me right about now. Somehow, this doesn’t look like a job offer.

I’ve known for a long, long time, Paul. blake boris He loved her so much; without her he would die.

There was a snap as the pin broke in two, the part in the lock falling in, and he had a dull moment to consider his failure before he saw that the door was slowly swinging open with the tongue of the lock sticking out of the plate like a steel finger. It went over the edge and he was still inside it! That’s not always how it works, but usually that’s it. If not for you I could be home watching TV now with my hand on my wife’s leg. I’m here. He reached down, but the tips of his fingers stopped a clear three inches short of the floor, where one of the two or three bobby-pins that had fallen from her hair as she charged him lay. He took three dry, then crawled back to the door and lay down against it, blocking it with the weight of his body. diddle

Um nope.

Is this an epiphany or the product of a sleep-deprived mind?

Have you ever sat there doing what you think is a step in the direction where you want to take your life and then you suddenly wonder if you’ve made the biggest mistake possible and is this really what you want the rest of your life to contain?

I’m sitting here answering phones at a distress line. one of the people who phones a lot calls and talks. The same shit that has happened to her before is happening and she’s sad because of her predicament. I used to care. I used to empathize. I used to try and genuinely listen. But today, I could have given two shits. I just wanted to be off the phone. I am so frustrated, burned out, pissed off. What is the point of giving your heart and soul if it doesn’t do any good? More often than not, I see the same thing in every volunteer job I do. I see women going back to their abusers, callers going through the same things, people I help just pulling bullshit. My mind says it’s a tough road and there are always going to be setbacks, you cannot judge, you just have to do your part. It also tries to remind me of all the positives. Then an evil part of my mind blames me for feeling this way. it knows I probably invest way too much in everything I do, and if I’d just behaved with some level of sanity, I wouldn’t be feeling this. But I don’t know how else to be! I’m trying to stop myself from getting so deeply involved in everything, but I’ve always felt I had to go the extra mile. now I have to untrain myself, and I don’t know where to begin.

But my heart just screams! It wants to shut down! it wants to stop trying, and it doesn’t know where this rush of complete and utter apathy is coming from. I left this morning tired because my body decided I wasn’t getting more than about 2 hours’ sleep, but that was it. I hoped I’d have a good shift. That was all I thought. There was no dread, there was nothing telling me this was coming. Now, it’s hit me like a ton of bricks, and the suddenness of it is shocking!

So…it’s probably nothing. And many have seen worse than I have and they keep on truckin’, so what is my problem? My worst thought is if this isn’t what I’m supposed to do, what am I supposed to do? Will I find something satisfying ever?

And then another thought yells from inside my head. “Stop being such a baby. Probably everybody has had these thoughts, and there are bigger problems to worry about than whether or not you’re happy in whatever job you end up doing. Shut up and wait for the next call.”

It’s probably true. I’m sure after a good night’s sleep, I won’t feel this overwhelming need to forget about everything in the social work field and run madly in another direction. I just had to write it down to stop it from eating away at me all shift. Hopefully I’ll have something happier to write later.

You’re in What Grade Again?

I just got asked by a friend to proofread his French notes for a presentation. I said sure. It’s always good to get another set of eyes looking at things you write, especially if it’s not in your native tongue. Granted French isn’t my native tongue either, but I said I’d help. I knew the last time I’d read his French, it was, well, not good. But that was a couple of years ago, so I thought maybe he had improved.

I get his notes, and I let out a shriek of frustration. If anything, his French has gotten worse! I have to ask myself, how is he getting through university French classes with this caliber of complete and utter incompetence? Are his tutors doing his essays for him? If so, they should stop. If not, why did I bother to work so hard if you could scrape through with this bullshit? I mean, it looks like maybe he’s in grade five French. Ug!

I’m looking at this now thinking, why do I give a rat’s ass how he does in French? I did well, his marks probably blow goats. So what does it matter? I guess I’m completely amazed that he’s still here with the level of crap he’s spewing. I wonder what my degree is worth if people like him can write the kind of stuff he does, still be here and get a degree too. The whole thing just makes me wonder why I worked so hard. I’ll cry if he graduates with distinction. That’ll probably never happen, but if it does, then I’ll know the degree isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.

The Dreaded N-Word!

No, I’m not talking about dear old Michael Richards’s outburst of a few days ago. I’m talking about a different n-word. Nation! Sorry, George Stroumboulopoulos, I had to steal your bit from the hour, just because I thought it was hilarious.

Seriously, though, what in hell does all of this mean? Let me try and process this. Stephen Harper has said that Quebec is a nation within Canada. That alone is enough to give me an aneurysm from the amount of brain power required to try and grasp what this even means. Let me define nation. According to dictionary.com, a nation is:

Nation
noun

1.

a large body of people, associated with a particular territory, that is sufficiently conscious of its unity to seek or to possess a government peculiarly its own: The president spoke to the nation about the new tax.

2.

the territory or country itself: the nations of Central America.

3.

a member tribe of an American Indian confederation.

4.

an aggregation of persons of the same ethnic family, often speaking the same language or cognate languages.

So, how does this even apply to Quebec? Definition 1 doesn’t make sense, they don’t have a government peculiarly their own, because they’re still subordinate to the Canadian government. No. 2 doesn’t really work because no. 1’s already screwed. Since they’re not natives, they’re colonisers just like the rest of us, they can’t take no. 3, and no. 4 doesn’t even work, because look at how many English-speakers and speakers of other languages live in Quebec, just like they do in the rest of the country.

Since this motion makes 0 sense on its own, I don’t know what it really means. Is it a step towards Quebec separating? Not on the surface, because Harper said that Quebec would never be a nation disconnected from Canada. But what else could it be? It doesn’t really satisfy anyone, it’s already made the Bloc Québécois mad, saying they won’t accept this. So what will we have to do next to make them happy? Make baby steps towards having their sovereign until they need something from Canada Quebec?

If your head isn’t already spinning enough, what the Bloc says back makes me very confused. I quote:
“The Quebec nation cannot be boiled down to one of two options: a nation within a united Canada, or a separate, sovereign nation.”

So what *do* you want? Are you just fighting for the sake of fighting? Oh of course you are! That’s what all politicians do.

And who’s going to be next to ask to be a nation within Canada, whatever that means? Could Newfoundland ask to become a nation? What about the Acadians in New Brunswick? What about Toronto because of all the Asians? Or what about all the fragments of Quebec who don’t want to separate? Can they be nations within Quebec? You can’t do that to a country!

I went and stayed in Quebec for five weeks. That by no means makes me an expert on their history, but it made me see a few things. I know their language is eroding, and that it was suppressed by previous federal governments, and that’s not cool. I know they feel that English is pervading their culture, and it kind of is. But unfortunately, that’s mostly a product of their geographical location. Let’s face it, they are in an English sandwich! The only way they could save their language the way they want to save it is to reloacate everyone to either an island somewhere, or to France or Belgium or somewhere that speaks French. The human brain picks up on its surroundings, and those cannot be legislated out!

I think my head has stopped spinning, but oddly enough, it’s right back where it started. I can’t make sense of this, and I don’t think I ever will. The only way it will ever make sense is in retrospect, after whatever comes of this has time to unfold. It doesn’t look, to me, like a good chain of events.

I Hate To Use Something So Corny, But What An American Idiot

I realize that this story is kind of old, but it’s so great and I’ve heard so little about it that it just has to be mentioned. And if anybody knows about any new developments in this case, I’d love to hear about them. I love watching other people humiliate themselves.

Oregon Grocery Store Clerk Claims To Have Written Green Day’s American Idiot

McPike is representing himself in the matter and the only evidence he has submitted thus far is a copy of American Idiot and a claim that the words that Green Day vocalist Billie Joe Armstrong sings on the album don’t exactly match those printed in the liner notes. The former ski resort employee plans to continue researching copyright law and to resubmit his complaint with additional unspecified evidence.

McPike says he’s written songs since high school and, while he’s never performed publicly, he’s occasionally sung some of his compositions for friends. He believes that a buddy must have recorded him singing at home, and that a cassette of his work somehow got into Green Day’s hands.

Riiiiight.

But let’s play pretend for a minute and act like this guy isn’t either out of his mind or completely full of shit. If he wins his case, Green Day could be in real trouble. I hate to say it, but if he wrote that song, there’s no telling how much of their other work he might ultimately be responsible for. I love Green Day, but even I know that a lot of their stuff has a similar sound to it, and they could end up owing him a lot of money depending on how many of those tapes they lifted from his friends over the years.

World’s Worst Drivers is the World’s Funniest Show.

Well, maybe not, but it’s pretty damn funny. If you ever get the chance to watch the show World’s Worst Drivers, do it! It’s not just that the horrid driving stunts that are captured on video are utterly hillarious. It’s not just that the guy doing the narrating is able to keep cracking me up with his descriptions of imbeciles behind the wheel. But you have to see the episode where, when a bad British driver is pulled over, he shouts at the camera man, twice, “Get that camera off me or I’ll shove it up your ringpiece!” And the best is he doesn’t even seem threatening. Oh he’s trying, but failing. Ringpiece? Ya learn a new word every day!

What Year Is It Anyway?

Everybody keeps telling me that it’s 2006, but with all this
talk of microphone outfitted security cameras on public streets,
I swear that it’s actually 1984. Seriously guys, you’re creeping me out here.

And I know I know, you’re claiming that the microphones can’t pick up words because they’re up too high and you can’t zoom the audio in to make it clearer anyway, but if that’s the case, how can they hear tones? I seriously wish that the general public was half way aware of stuff like this, because the people responsible for this system and others like it should have to provide quite a few good answers to quite a few good questions before anything is installed anywhere.

From: Your Blogger.

Um…ok then. I just got a spam from, and I quote, “Your Doctor,” advertising meds. Mysteriously, my doctor has lost her name, and writes me now, just claiming she’s my doctor. Uh-huh. Nice job, spammers. But the sad thing is this might work on some people. I can see it now. “Oh. It’s my doctor! It must be legit.” Oh the creative ways of spammers to prey on the stupid, the naive and the uninformed.