Negligence

I need some shoes. These gold flippy floppies are nice and all but 1) I'm not supposed to wear flip flops at work, and 2) it's getting cold. In times of yore I could make it well into November before switching to more substantial footwear but I must be getting old because I can't tolerate the cold as well as in my younger years. Plus my dried, cracked heels are begging for some protection.

I need a jacket. The idea of a fall coat confounds me. Something light enough and heavy enough and pretty enough. Thanks to these lumbering shoulders of mine, most coats available to me look terrible. But I want something nicer than run-o-the-mill windbreaker type thing. Does such a thing exist?

I need clothes. Man, do I ever! I've purchased maybe 3-4 shirts this year. One pair of capris. This year!!! Every time I go to a store I set out to try things on, regardless of whether I normally would wear it or not. I can't find anything! And what I do find is ridiculously overpriced. I work in a very casual environment so buying something fancy/office-y is a waste of money because I'm never going to wear it. The code is (literally, they wrote it down) nothing with holes, no rip offs, no inappropriate slogans. That's it! But can I find anything? Nope. It's annoying.

I need lots of other stuff too - new make-up, lamps, an oil change. But affording everything when you're just one little paycheque can be difficult. I know, call those Nobel people for we have a forward thinker.

Two complain-y posts in a row is about two more than anyone cares to read, but blog fodder is hard to come by at the moment. Although, since September 22 is just around the corner, and because September 22 means there are only 100 days left in 2009, I've decided to do up some goals for the end of the year. Nothing to crazy, but I'm a goal and list person and I have no goals or lists at the moment.

So there you have it.

I Wanna Be a Brace Face

The last time I went to the dentist (back in 2005...) I was referred to an orthodontist who informed me that I have a Class III Malocculsion with open bite. Basically it means I have a really hard time eating certain foods, I talk funny and it hurts. Burgers and subs are especially difficult because I can't bite all the way through since my front teeth don't touch. It's not usually a pretty site. He also told me that I'll experience degeneration of the jaw joints by the time I'm 30.

That brings us to today. I get insane-o headaches (during which my right eye gets droopy - real attractive), stiff neck muscles from the strain of things being out of whack, my jaw cracks and creaks and my lisp is worse. The past couple of weeks I've also been getting moments of pulsing pain on the right side of my jaw. I'm still a few years from 30, but things are not looking great.

And you know what really sucks? I can't afford to get it fixed. I've been looking around at some local orthodontists and they all say it'll cost between $6200 and $11000 to get fixed. I'll be at the higher end because fixing my face will involve a year of braces followed by surgery, followed by having my jaw wired shut for 6 weeks.

I don't have dental insurance yet, but even if I did it won't cover orthodontics for me since I'm over 18. So that means crossing my fingers and hoping I qualify for financing. One other possibility is the Dal Dental Clinic. It's cheaper than a regular dentist, but you're being treated by a student. I don't even know if I'll qualify because I need a little more than you're average molar. I guess it'd be worth it for the cheaper cleaning...

Why in this world of universal health care are medically necessary dental procedures not covered?? I don't need prescriptions or my gallbladder removed - I just need my face fixed!

Wanderlust

wan·der·lust (wndr-lst)

n.

A very strong or irresistible impulse to travel.

It hasn't hit me in a long time, but today the urge to "Go" is sitting sqarely on my chest. During idle hours I take a mental inventory of my apartment, selling each item and hoarding the cash to be spent on a ticket, on gas, on a pair of shoes.

I can't go. I don't have the money, or a passport or the banked vacation time. And this is what I have to repeat in my head when I pass the airport, with my hand far enough away from the turning signal at the exit that I don't tempt my self-control.

I went out to the woods last night, though dragged would be a better verb. There's this deep, dark lake the colour of cola a short walk off the main road and apparently it's a great place to cool off in the summer. But this being a cool night already, I wasn't feeling it.

We wore life jackets and Heidi chose the broken boogie board. I'm not a strong swimmer (I never made it passed Otter) and the lake is deep so making it to the other side and back requires some artificial floating.

I almost couldn't do it. I'm not an aquatically adventerous person - I have no problem getting my hair cut in a foreign country by some hairdresser who doesn't speak English and who only offers soviet fashion magazines as aides. But throw in a water trap and I freeze up.

Even on the ferry ride to PEI I get squeamish looking over the edge, fearful that I'll lose control and suddenly leap over the railing into the frothy waves. It don't make no sense.

So I stood by the side of this lake while BJ and Heidi were trying to convince me that it wasn't so bad. I just stood there staring down at where my feet would be if the lake had been clear.

"Don't worry! It's really deep!" wasn't what I wanted to hear. In my head I could picture myself just jumping in but everytime I thought I could do it, I would recoil with giddy reluctance. I was annoyed with the other two because they put me in this position and a little annoyed at myself for being such a chicken.

Finally, I managed to ignore what was happening in my head and dove in. Not so much dove, as moved forward wetly but I was in and that's what counts. I made it across and back, continually smothering the irrational hesitation that had almost cemented my feet to the shore. I was done in record time.

The relief of completing the task quickly turned into frustration. I always tell myself that I'm going to do these great adventerous things - travel solo to off beat places, meet crazy people, do crazy things... but I can't even jump in a lake without flipping my wig (as the cool kids say).

Fear, hesitation and excuses - they'll gum things up every time. I'm not unhappy but I'm definitely not satisfied with how things are right now. I think this current bout of wanderlust is more than just the drive to travel somewhere, but it's a deep need to change my status quo and shake the cobwebs out of my foggy head.

There's a line of song you probably don't know, "there must be more than this", that keeps playing in my head over and over. Whatever it is, I really hope it's not on the other side of some creepy lake. But even if it is, I hope I can still get there.

I Can't Get Ova Nova Scotia

It's been a few days, but I feel like I can't move on to something else until I talk about it.

As mentioned previously, I landed some tickets to the Paul McCartney concert that happened on Saturday. I was unbelievably excited before going, and it only kept building when my brother and I arrived to find ourselves near the front of the line (people camped there?) and then within 30 feet of the stage once they finally let us in.

I was probably too optimistic at first, thinking we'd get a chance to sit down in between sets and I wasn't alone. Some had brought blankets and spread them out for the opening act (Sierra Noble, I'd never heard of her either). One group felt that their blanket was sacred space and tried to defend it until the bitter end - but a crowd of 50 000 is hard to hold back when your only defence is some fleece and a flip flop.

I'm really glad we didn't end up bringing chairs. They had a section near the back gated off for chair toters, and a lot of people just dumped them and went to the front. A chair would have been nice, since we had stood for 3 hours in line and then another 8 hours once we got to our spot.

11 hours standing? Yeah, that's painful. It was cramped up there too with only inches between me and the next fan. I actually had bruising and swelling from an old injury... but whatevs, it was totally worth it!

My two main worries were not being close enough to see Sir Paul and having to go to the bathroom at an inopportune time. I could definitely see Paul and my plan to drink only enough water to not die worked perfectly! If I had left my spot there was no way I would have gotten back to it. Did you see that crowd??

Wintersleep went on stage somewhere around 6 pm and they were great, as usual. I think maybe they were a little tired from flying in from Ottawa only hours before, but they still rocked it and seemed to enjoy themselves. Not in a million years did I think I would see some guys I went to high school with open for a Beatle. That's insane!!

Next up was Joel Plaskett and he was at the top of his game! Full of energy and obviously thrilled to be doing what he was doing. He had what seemed like a short set, but it was really, really good. I can't believe he's not more famous cuz that dude's got some mad skillz. Yo.

Then of course, the moment I didn't know I had been waiting my whole life for. If you had told me when I was 13 years old that I would be seeing Paul McCartney live, in person, in my more or less home town I would never, ever have believed you. I didn't cry or freak out like I thought I would (maybe it was the dehydration?) but I was completely mesmerized for the next 2 hours and 38 minutes. Dude played 36 songs!

It is honestly one of the major highlights of my life, and I don't care how cheesy that sounds. Someday they'll hand me my first born and unless it breaks into a raucous version of "Drive My Car", I'll be a little disappointed.

Some highlights for me? Other than being super close for the whole she-bang - Live and Let Die was amazing (I could feel the heat from the stage!). I also wanted to hear Get Back, and Helter Skelter in the encore was a nice surprise too. Then naturally comes the communal experience of everyone singing Give Peace a Chance in unison with peace signs waving in the air. I didn't realize it at the time, but this is the first time Daytripper had been played in concert by a Beatle since their last performance in 1966. And lastly, he performed Mull of Kintyre with a little help from the 78th Highlanders. It's a boring song, but who could help feeling it with the Nova Scotia tartan displayed on the screen behind him and the bag pipes sailing across the stage.

So really, all the awesome things that everyone has already mentioned were awesome things to me too. I kept telling my brother that I couldn't believe where I was and who I was seeing. Even now whenever I see the fuzzy over-exposed shot on my cell phone I giggle like a school girl. Going to that concert was one of the best things I've ever made myself do, bar none.

What's next then? I've been wracking my brain trying to think of another concert I'd be just as excited to see, or something else I could do that would bring that much joy and satisfaction. While I'm sure there is something, at least for now the glowing memories of that show are blocking my imagination.

The videos I linked to are all really terrible. C'est la vie. If you wanted a good view, you totally should have gone :)

All You Need is... Patience

Speaking of obsessions, I was completely in love with the Beatles when I was in grade 8. It wasn't cool in 1996, but the Anthologies had just been released and I was completely and hopelessly hooked. I taped them when it was on TV and proceeded to watch it over, and over. And over. And over again.

You get the idea.

My brother and sister hated it, but I couldn't stop myself. I used to run home after school to listen to one of the songs just so I'd have it in my head for soccer practice (it was Strawberry Fields, not exactly a complicated melody, but whatever). That year for Christmas I had been begging my parents to get me a Beatles book, but they told me it was sold out. When I opened my gift on Christmas morning and found the book I completely freaked out, crying and giggling so hard I could hardly speak.

It took me six months to save up for the Anthology on CD so imagine my disappointment when I went to Blockbuster and they had raised the price by a dollar. Mom wouldn't lend it to me either, so I had to scrounge up some more dimes before I could get it.

The first Beatles music I ever owned was a CD that started with, "Love Me Do". I still get goosebumps when I hear it, though the mad fixation has long paseed.

Today on the drive home it started to sink in that I'm actually going to see Paul McCartney live in concert this weekend. I'm not ashamed to admit that there are moments when I'm completely overwhelmed and have to catch my breath. I can't remember being this excited for something in a long freaking time!

What it comes down to now is worrying (me? a worrier?) about the details of the day - when should we get there? Early or just when the shuttle starts? What are the "bathroom" lines going to be like? How do I get as close as I can to the front? Do I bring a chair? Can I sneak food in? Or can I fake diabetes so they let me? Are my tickets real? What if they don't let me? I need to be close enough to at least see the guy...

I'm trying to forget about it and just enjoy myself whatever happens, because there's really no point in worrying about it. I'm bringing my camera to document the event that I'll be attending with my brother (he's recovered from the abuse I put him through).

Gah!!! I can't wait!!!

Conundrum

Everything I do, I tend to do in fits and starts. I can be really passionate, or "obsessed" as some might say, about something but it's usually only for a brief spurt. Days, weeks, never years. Although sometimes the memory of how I felt about something in the past will be enough for me to become re-obsessed about it... if that makes any sense.

It's why I can't do knitting. That shiz takes patience! I've done a scarf or two, but having the focus and dedication to make something more significant than that is beyond me. My level of obsession depends also on the success I have in whatever particular area. I.e. papier mache was fun, but when my milk carton birdhouse went moldy in the closet, I quickly lost the urge

to boil newspaper and ruin pots.

One thing I'm interested in, but have had little capacity to persue (re: money) is interior design. I feel pretentious just uttering the words. And that's part of the conundrum. For awhile I'll idle away my time cruising through design blogs, determining my style (most decidedly mid-century modern), and looking at pretty prints on Etsy that tickle my fancy.

During these spurts of inspiration, without fail, the thought that this "interior design" business is such a uniquely western occupation. I think of people who's obsession is finding food, or scraps of metal to sell... Why spend money on "Keep Calm and Carry On" (don't by the way, that thing is sooo early 2008) when people are literally dying to live. How do we reconcile these unnecessary purchases? Why do we buy bottled water when our free tap water is perfectly potable and other people can't find a sip without their bodies being invaded by parasites that escape through their feet?

I'm very fortunate that I can spend time searching for a Dutch Teak Credenza from 1974 that will be so over priced because this is stupid Nova Scotia where everyone thinks their junk is worth something when it so just isn't. Seriously! They want $100 for a couch and chair set that everyone in this province has been related to at some point or knows where to find one in the basement of some aunt, cousin or hunting camp.

Back to the point... the conclusion I've come to is that yes, I am very fortunate to be living in a place where I can expend the brain energy on what style couch I like best or what curtains to hang. There are people out there who would love to do that but are too busy fighting for their right to vote or eat or raise children. That will always be true. My job is to live the life I've been given in a responsible way, informing myself of what's happening in the world and participating when I can (and we all can). But also taking the time to do things I enjoy and that make me happy, for however short a time that may be.

Photos above are some that I've collected of rooms that I love over time but failed to note where I got them...

Television, the drug of the nation

At my old apartment I was in TV addict heaven. I had all the theme packs I wanted, I had a perfectly programmed DVR, I had a TV in my room where it lulled me to sleep at night and greeted me in the morning. DVR's are amazing, seriously. I never watched "real" TV, but did suffer from TiVO guilt - which is why I watched more Fringe and 90210 episodes than I really needed to.

When I moved, I decided to give up the expense of the set-up I had and go back to ghetto-vision (the trifecta of Canadian stations, plus a fuzzy french). I gave it all up, the DVR, the control, the guilt - cold turkey. And while I missed it at first, before the internet was connected, I don't find myself missing it at all. I don't even watch the channels I do have, mostly because I can't stand the lack of choice and the commercials. I do watch it at work, but that hardly counts.

This doesn't mean I've found more valuable ways to spend my time, of course. I've been watching a few series online, and I spend excessive hours on the interwebs doing nothing in particular. But I think this trend is starting to wane, hopefully I'll catch up on my reading and maybe even do something productive... a girl can dream!

I'm currently working my way through Weeds and Six Feet Under, and I recently finished Dexter. Turns out I have a bit of a thing for Showtime and HBO.

A wise professor once advised me to watch very little TV and read often. It's a simple equation that makes a lot of sense, and I've wanted to adopt it for years. It'll happen sooner or later, but in the meanwhile, I have some facebook creepin' to do.

Mom Got Hitched

May 30, 2009

Due to frivolously changing the colour in the photo the navy blue dresses kind of look black... But regardless, we shined up pretty nice to see mom and Blair exchange vows and party with Elvis.

I wasn't joking. And here's one more, just because we look pretty:

Sheamus Turned One!

My brother created a human and get him alive for a whole year! Well, 15 months at this point, but who's counting!

His first brithday was March 13, and I was a negligent auntie for not mentionning it sooner. But here he is on the day of days:

Oh. It's You.

Don't you hate it when some blogger you've been following for twenty years suddenly decides they're too "good" for their blog and they have to look elsewhere for meaning in their lives?

Or when a blogger posts intermittent pleas for you the lowly reader to hang-on, I'll be back again someday?

Or when they just post pictures of they're completely scrumptious nephew in hopes that it will fill the light-less hole that is your life until regular blogging resumes again?

Then again, it is rather presumptuous to think that anyone cares at all. Not care, I guess, but notice. Is this thing on?

I like the writing thing, and for one reason or another I've been avoiding it like people who avoid things. Fear of success! You haz it!

Regardless, I think the time has come on this terrestial globe where we no longer need to talk about the how's and the what's and the motivations. Blogging, twittering, facebooking, exist and the story isn't, "Wow! They twittered a revolution!", but that the revolution happened in the first place.

Holy disjointed post batman!

Whatevs. The point is, I am hitherto and therefore expressing my intentions of returning to a more regular state of blog. To add a little blogamucil, if you will (and you shouldn't) to my daily routine.

But before we really get going here, I need to get some "this is my life" posts out of the way to document the major things that have happened in the past months. Don't worry, it's not much.

Now that you have the syllabi, I hope you have a marvelous day and thank-you for stopping by.

Letting my sister live in my apartment was a terrible idea. I am going to lose my fraking mind.

On the plus side... I finally have the internet again.

Moving on ... somewhere?

Have I mentionned I'm moving? Well I am, and tomorrow is the "big day". 

The way things have worked out, I am unable to help in moving the stuff because I'm working. I haven't worked a weekend in months and it's a little weird, but at least I get out of moving? 

I'm very fortunate however, that my family is able to help out and get me moved over to the new humble abode in Bedford. I've done Dartmouth, Halifax, and now B-town. I suppose next it'll be Sackville but we're not going to worry about that for awhile!

After much rigamarole I picked up the keys today and checked the place out. If you overlook the construction dust all over the floor, the crappy paint job, the "eyehole" in the master bedroom door, the missing closet door, the blue fixtures in the the bathroom, the stinking fridge, the noisy neighbours, the beige cabinets, the broken window latches, the lack of window screens, and the crazies, it'll be perfect!

And to top it all off, a kid I used to work with is doing the renos in another apartment and I keep running in to him. I think today is the first day he recognized me, but I'm obligated not to "make first contact", so we'll just have to wait and see what happens!

I think I'm a little anxious about this whole move because I'm leaving a cheaper place with more luxuries (i.e. washer/dryer in the unit, dishwasher, practically soundproof) for a more expensive place with none of those...

But that's ok right? I'm young enough to still live in sketchy places? At least the neighbourhood seems great - quiet with lots of single family homes. I just happen to share a building with a bunch of gangsta's and the women who love them. 

Ah well, I'm sure it'll lead to some excellent blog material! 

Yarg

I'm not sure how many blog posts I've titled "yarg", but sometimes that's the only word I can think of. 

I'm feeling a little stressed at the moment, and what better release than to blarg to the internet about it! When I feel complainy, or when others are being complainy I think to myself, "It's hard being white, isn't it?" This isn't a racial thing, as it may at first appear but it reminds me that I'm getting into poor me mode, and whatever I'm dealing with isn't really that bad. My life is not that hard.

On that note, I'm a little itsy bit stressed. I'm moving at the end of the month, and I don't know how it's going to happen. My brother has already said he's not going to help, and that annoys me. He can't anyway, because it's a weekday, but he said he wouldn't help before he knew that. So there goes one person with a truck. I'm also trying to buy a couch, but I need to pick it up and I don't know how that's going to happen... 

I'll probably just hire somebody. I can move most of it just in my car, but I have 4-5 big things that are too heavy to move myself and too big for my car. 

Then there's my tax situation. Let's just say there's been a bit of a gap since the last time I filed. I don't think I'll owe them anything (they usually chase you if you owe) but you never know so I just need to get it over with, and I plan to do that this week. 

And lastly, I'm probably a little worried about moving into my new schedule this week. I have 5 day shifts this time, instead of the 1 I had in the old schedule. I stay up late and sleep in, so I have to change into a move normal schedule. This starts on Wednesday, so I have one night to do it. 

And I need to get a cell phone, but I'm worried my credit might stymie that.

Ok, you're right. I don't have much to worry about. I also can't take care of any of it today, because it's a holiday (I've already tried, with no success). So I'm just going to make my list, watch a bad movie, and do my laundry. That, I can handle!

Donair Eggroll?

I heard an ad on the radio today for donair eggrolls. The initial idea grosses me out, until I remember that donairs are freaking awesome. This is categorized with the new Big Mac Snack Wrap, which sounds gross, but who knows! I think they're aiming to create the illusion of healthiness. You can make anything healthier when you wrap it in a soft tortilla, am I right?

I'm currently watching The National and Rex Murphy is awesome. That's all. 

You know what's gross? Like, really gross? A cat with the runs. Sorry, an overshare I'm sure, but seriously. I was a reckless pet owner and despite all the warnings I changed their car food abruptly. They loved the food, but Hank has been sick since yesterday morning. Sick all over the place. Beyond nasty. 

I switched back and thank the good Lord above he's better today. And this is a very good thing, because no one likes runny cat poop in their shoe. 

Sorry. 

My Gears, They are Grinding

That last post was my 400th. You're welcome. 

You know what bugs me? Why is it that when I go to a retail store and make  purchase, they want my personal information? I'm a people pleaser, so I generally oblige but I'm beginning to dislike the idea. They don't need my address, phone number and blood type in order for me to make a purchase. 

Do you tip at fast food places (not including Tim Horton's)?

I was at a Subway the other day and when I was paying with my debit card the option to leave a tip came up. This was at the point where normally you're putting in your pin so since I had already put in a couple of numbers before I noticed, I ended up tipping about 100% more than I had planned. I'm kind of annoyed that they did that... it's normal for a regular restaurant, but Subway? I haven't seen that anywhere else...

Just a little bit longer

So I'm turning onto Joseph Howe drive and get a red light on that little hill just before you're really on Joseph Howe. I feel a slight hesitation in the car when the light turns green and I hit the gas. 

It's a '95 Camry, hesitations happen. However, in this case the hesitation was due mostly in part to my hesitation to put gas in the car before heading home from Dartmouth. The gage has been lower than that before, I figure I'm probably pushing it but take my chances. 

This is happening at that awkward time of day known to many as "dusk". It's light enough that you can still see but dark enough that the lights at the gas station are off, leading me (in my fit of hesitation) to believe that the station is in fact closed. During rush hour. On a main thoroughfare. 

I don't get me either. 

Anywho, the reason I'm on this road is to pick up my mother from work. I continue past not one, but two gas stations on the way down the road, but there are no more hesitations so I quickly put my worries away and continued. 

I picked mom up at the pre-appointed location. I left the parking lot not thinking about those earlier hesitations, but instead of the sushi I was going to buy at Sobeys (so good). 

You're all bright people, I know you know what's next. The engine hesitates as we head over a slight embankment. Then instead of hesitating, the engine does more of a sputter. Not just any sputter... more like a bi-polar moment of "hey, I'm running, we can do this" to "um, I'm just gonna take a little break here, but you keep pressing that pedal! I may come back!"

Meanwhile, my co-pilot is becoming increasingly agitated, informing me of the various consequences of my inaction because I was obviously unaware that not filling the car when the light comes on may lead to the situation at hand. 

We made it through two lights (that stayed green) and I turned into the parking lot of the closest gas station. Not a moment too soon, as the engine completely cut out on my approach and I had to coast to the only open pump. 

I'm no Sully, but I think I did a pretty good job. Unfortunately my problems were not due to a flock of Canadian geese, but my desire to make every tank streach to the last drop. The situation probably could have been avoided, but I and my 14 year old car came out of it none the worse for wear. 

And then I blogged about it.

Please Stand By

I have the urge to blog, really I do. And that's much better than having no urge at all? Right? Basically what it means is some day I'll start posting regularly again, instead of the cop-out nephew photos, that while awesome, are hardly informative. 

Some bullet points so I don't forget who I am:

- Mom's getting married May 30

- Which means I get to move out with no hard feelings or guilt trippin'

- Wahoo!! 

Happy Paraskavedekatriaphobia!

I know it's cliche and everything, but I can't believe he's 11 months old today! He can walk by himself, but prefers to hold your hands. He can talk too, but I'm not sure if he knows it yet... One more month and he'll be a whole year old! (That will be Friday the 13th too)

Departures

I freaking love this show. It's just a couple of guys traveling around the world, and filming it in high definition. My favorite scene to date aired last weekend. They were visiting an abandoned city in Libya and decided to play an elaborate and poorly conceived game of hide and seek. 

To see a part of it, follow this link - click Libya, then go to "Hide and Seek". 

There's not much available on youtube, but here's a trailor: It airs at 8pm and 11pm Sundays on OLN

To Blave

I've been feeling veritably ranty as of late. Not sure why, really. On more than one occasion I've heard, "What's gotten into you?", "Too much coffee?"

Most of it has to do with work, and though I can't really talk about where I do what I do, I think I can talk about what I do in the larger context, i.e. Youth Care in general. You don't know where I work (unless I work with you, of course) so I'm hoping there's no connection between the two. But in any case, my opinions on what I do have no connection or relation to that place where I do the things I do. Ya dig? 

Lately I've been thinking about what I want to write/blog about, because I don't really feel like doing the personal diary thing anymore. Not that I've really been doing much of that lately, but I think you get my drift. Besides, not much has been going on in the personal life department, but if anything should happen, you'll be the first to know. 

I'll save the actual ranting for sometime when I sit down and actually organize it into coherent thought. 

What I've been diving into in the last 24 hours is research on how youth are using new media. More than that, how marginalized youth are using new media, and how care providers can and should interact in that arena. 

Youth care happens in the daily life and lifespace of youth. The internet is no longer an information super highway - like when I was a teenager - but it's an extension of the lifespace. Youth Care Workers (YCWs) aren't present in that lifespace, so what do we do? 

I find it fascinating and I'm going to talk about it whether you like it or not. Huzzah!

Hard Lesson

One thing that is hard for me to learn and understand is that in the end, wherever you work, the only person looking out for your best interests is you. You may think that other people want to treat you fairly, but in the end, they will always choose what is best for them over what is fair for you. 

I guess it's obvious, and I guess I'm too trusting. People are always on the look out for your mistakes, for some way to point out to the powers that be that they are in some way better than you. It may be under the guise of caring or of accountability, but it's not. It's just oneupmanship. 

To each his own I guess. I just wish I was a faster learner. 

Gorgeous

10 months old already! I hear he's moved on to the world of walking, but I haven't seen it yet. Here are more photos, if you're so inclined.

Guilt-Trippin'

So I'm sick... I thought it was allergies, and it may have started that way, but it's definitely moved into cold territory. 

I called in sick last night, and just called in for my shift tonight so I'm currently dealing with the inevitable waves of guilt. Sure, it's only my 5th sick day in almost three years, but I still feel guilty. Am I really sick enough? Is my nose stuffed enough? Is my head sore enough? 

Ah well, the deed is done and I will have to deal with the repercussions. The other issue is I'm about to have a few days off, so I guess I could soldier through my little 8 hour night shift. 

Then again, I don't feel very good and the only reason I'm currently able to breath is because the pharmacist at Wal-mart changed my life and pointed out the best cold meds I've ever had. But they make me feel funny on the inside and no one likes a youth care worker in an altered state. 

Except the youth. They looove it. 

Now pardon me while I pass out on the couch in front of CBC Newsworld (see, I really am sick).

Baby New Year

Highlights of the past year:

Birth of my nephew

Presenting at the National Youth Care Conference

Landing a full-time term

Re-wired a lamp

Lowlights of the past year:

Uhhhhhhhhh, hmm. Guess it was a good year? 

Some people are anti resolution. Maybe they believe that you don't need a "date" to make changes, but any ol' day should do. 

I for one, disagree. I need the date, the starting line, the celebratory glass of champagne (the one in my hand is x2), the huzzah! Let's go! Pep pep and on we travel! But instead of documenting my goals for 2009 here for all to see I'm going to take a page from Michael Phelps and keep my goals to myself this year. All that means is you'll have to stick around for a year to see if I'm successful. It'll be like a cliffhanger, only with less Emmy's. 

This is the first year in a long time that I have both lived and worked at the same place for the entire calendar year. I can't tell if that's a good thing or not, but I would definitely like to see some more highlights in the new year. 

mmm, champagne tasty... 

I'm currently watching the Air Farce's final show. It's mostly out of a felt obligation, given that I haven't found it particularly funny lately, but I can remember listening to their radio show on CBC and then watching the TV show (also on CBC). That was back in the heyday of Canadian political satire (and comedy in general), an arena that has waned in recent years, though Rick Mercer is still top of his game.

Speaking of Canadian culture, I love The Hour. I usually watch it at either 4 or 5 am during my backshifts, and I'm not usually disappointed. The interviews are either awesome or epic fails, both keep me up. My issue is the lack of Canadian content. Sarah Palin on the New Year's Eve show? It's great that he gets a lot of big names, but I want to know more about Canadian pop culture, and that is hard to find. 

Champagne distracts me, this post was supposed to be about me, goals and reflecting on the past year. I'm sure talking about the CBC is more riveting...

Something to Chew On

Two new sites I've become mildly obsessed with : Videogum and Stereogum. 

I had recently lamented about the state of the playlist on my Creative Zen. I was lost! Depending on top 40 stations (two of which now bless the Halifax soundscape, aren't we fortunate) for new music is good for maybe 3-4 songs a season, but that's it. And those songs have very short shelf-life on the "songs that don't annoy the snot out of me" list. 

Enter Stereogum. I've only been perusing this site for the past couple of days but it's already expanded my Indie music vocbulary significantly. So to help you, dear reader, here's a list that will like, totally blow your mind, or not... whatever... (clicking the names will send you to the youtube videos... do it...)

Fleet Foxes - White Winter Hymnal and He Doesn't Know Why

My Morning Jacket - I'm Amazed

MGMT - Electric Feel

Blitzen Trapper - Furr and Wild Mountain Nation

Frightened Rabbit - My Backwards Walk 

The Constantines - Soon Enough

Bon Iver - Skinny Love 

Not to be outdone is Videogum, which has significantly expanded my "viral video" vocabulary, and I couldn't be happier. So go here to see the virals that captured the inattention of the masses in 2008.