On "The Smart Car"
H: If I wanted a 3 cylinder diesel engine, I'd buy a garden tractor! But I hope they feel really good about owning a Smart car and being able to save on the high cost of gasoline. Just curious, though, why they also have three SUVs parked in a line beside it??
**********
Well, the garage is being built. It was started yesterday. All four walls are already up. Materials are being delivered over time, and I guess the store felt it'd take longer to use up what we had; we're out of materials now, and have to take a break until we get the rest of the stuff. Hopefully, that will happen soon.
Stupid people delivered the wrong colour of shingles! Oh well; it will be fixed soon enough.
**********
J starts "daycare" on Tuesday. I am nervous, but I think he'll enjoy it.
**********
And The Cryptic presents:
Stressed.
Pouring rain.
Head full.
Too much.
Forgetting.
Everything.
Remember when.
Please, not again.
Tired.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Things you never thought you'd hear yourself say (and other bits)
Sometimes, things confuse me. Stuff that happens. People I know. People I knew. Self-destructive behaviours.
Sometimes, there are things that I just don't get. Reflections on the irrelevant. Or the once relevant, but now no longer. Random searches for the word "puke". A desire to focus on the negative.
It must be Sunday. I never could get the hang of Sundays.
**********
On another note, here is a "Things You Never Thought You'd Hear Yourself Say", contributed by H:
"I think Rookie Bear is upset that you abandoned him for a tube of toothpaste."
Sometimes, there are things that I just don't get. Reflections on the irrelevant. Or the once relevant, but now no longer. Random searches for the word "puke". A desire to focus on the negative.
It must be Sunday. I never could get the hang of Sundays.
**********
On another note, here is a "Things You Never Thought You'd Hear Yourself Say", contributed by H:
"I think Rookie Bear is upset that you abandoned him for a tube of toothpaste."
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Anniversaries, Tonsils, and a Fat Lip
The following post is a writing catastrophe. I don't care.
Well, it was my parents' 50th anniversary this weekend. We went out for dinner with them on their actual anniversary. Tonight, there was a party for all of the extended family. Good Food + Good Family = Good Times.
Or not quite so much.
Tonight, J took a tumble. He didn't exactly fall down the stairs; he fell on the stairs. Early into the evening at my parents' anniversary party. He decided to try to walk down like a big boy and, though we were right there, we just didn't react quickly enough. He fell and banged his head on the hardwood railing, putting his top teeth partway through his bottom lip.
We carried our bleeding little boy up to the bathroom and tried to stop the bleeding and keep the swelling down. We offered popsicles and cold water. He was unimpressed. He cuddled in, rubbing his face against me and smearing blood all over himself and my good outfit. I was glad that I didn't wear the pretty white dress with the blue flowers that I was contemplating; blood will come out of the blue shirt I had on with greater ease.
After J stopped bleeding, he was still in a bad mood. He was hurt and he hadn't slept well today. He was just exhausted. His lip swelled up, and he didn't want to eat anything. He was hungry. He was making strange, and there were many people milling around. And he had a diaper rash, which just can't be comfortable.
He had a dose of Tylenol.
He ran around like a little maniac. He screamed and cried. A few people shot us dirty looks; like we could do anything about the fussing baby. He just would not be happy. We nearly left before food. But we plugged away, managed to eat (H ate first, then I got to eat after) and even partake in some dessert before we took little Mr. Sunshine home for sleep.
He was asleep within 5 minutes. We drove around for a bit just to make sure he was out cold, and then came home. He sleeps peacefully in his crib. I hope his mouth feels better tomorrow.
As for me, the tonsillitis is back. Again. (ACK!) Why won't they take them out? Oh, that's right. Because they are stupid. My throat is bleeding, and it feels like little popcorn shards are cutting into my glands. It's a delightful sensation, I tell you; you should all try it. Well, at least my doctor should try it. I bet he'd have someone take his tonsils out in a big hurry!
I am going to go now. To bed with me. Into the Winnie-the-Pooh nightshirt that I am far too old to continue to wear but insist on wearing anyway since I own it and it is comfy and fits. It makes me feel better, and it's only for sleep anyway. (Though I did wear it as a T-shirt at the grocery store recently; no one batted an eye.) Cuddle up in my nice comfy bed, put my MP3 player on, and ... SNORE!!
It's a good life.
Maybe my tonsils will be a bit better tomorrow. I hope they at least stop bleeding through the night. And I hope J is in better spirits in the morning.
Morning.
Morning is good. Fresh and clean; full of promise. Everything is new, and anything that's gone before is done. Sunrise, and a fresh start.
Yes. Morning. Morning is good.
Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you.
Well, it was my parents' 50th anniversary this weekend. We went out for dinner with them on their actual anniversary. Tonight, there was a party for all of the extended family. Good Food + Good Family = Good Times.
Or not quite so much.
Tonight, J took a tumble. He didn't exactly fall down the stairs; he fell on the stairs. Early into the evening at my parents' anniversary party. He decided to try to walk down like a big boy and, though we were right there, we just didn't react quickly enough. He fell and banged his head on the hardwood railing, putting his top teeth partway through his bottom lip.
We carried our bleeding little boy up to the bathroom and tried to stop the bleeding and keep the swelling down. We offered popsicles and cold water. He was unimpressed. He cuddled in, rubbing his face against me and smearing blood all over himself and my good outfit. I was glad that I didn't wear the pretty white dress with the blue flowers that I was contemplating; blood will come out of the blue shirt I had on with greater ease.
After J stopped bleeding, he was still in a bad mood. He was hurt and he hadn't slept well today. He was just exhausted. His lip swelled up, and he didn't want to eat anything. He was hungry. He was making strange, and there were many people milling around. And he had a diaper rash, which just can't be comfortable.
He had a dose of Tylenol.
He ran around like a little maniac. He screamed and cried. A few people shot us dirty looks; like we could do anything about the fussing baby. He just would not be happy. We nearly left before food. But we plugged away, managed to eat (H ate first, then I got to eat after) and even partake in some dessert before we took little Mr. Sunshine home for sleep.
He was asleep within 5 minutes. We drove around for a bit just to make sure he was out cold, and then came home. He sleeps peacefully in his crib. I hope his mouth feels better tomorrow.
As for me, the tonsillitis is back. Again. (ACK!) Why won't they take them out? Oh, that's right. Because they are stupid. My throat is bleeding, and it feels like little popcorn shards are cutting into my glands. It's a delightful sensation, I tell you; you should all try it. Well, at least my doctor should try it. I bet he'd have someone take his tonsils out in a big hurry!
I am going to go now. To bed with me. Into the Winnie-the-Pooh nightshirt that I am far too old to continue to wear but insist on wearing anyway since I own it and it is comfy and fits. It makes me feel better, and it's only for sleep anyway. (Though I did wear it as a T-shirt at the grocery store recently; no one batted an eye.) Cuddle up in my nice comfy bed, put my MP3 player on, and ... SNORE!!
It's a good life.
Maybe my tonsils will be a bit better tomorrow. I hope they at least stop bleeding through the night. And I hope J is in better spirits in the morning.
Morning.
Morning is good. Fresh and clean; full of promise. Everything is new, and anything that's gone before is done. Sunrise, and a fresh start.
Yes. Morning. Morning is good.
Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
SNORE!
So tired ... must sleep ... now ...
I have things to write, but I can't do it. I can't think clearly just now. My brain is asleep before my body, and I must go and join it.
So tired.
Soon, there will be pictures and updates. But for now, there will be bed.
J says "Night night" now when it's bedtime. Good boy.
Night night.
I have things to write, but I can't do it. I can't think clearly just now. My brain is asleep before my body, and I must go and join it.
So tired.
Soon, there will be pictures and updates. But for now, there will be bed.
J says "Night night" now when it's bedtime. Good boy.
Night night.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Sunday, August 06, 2006
J's Girlfriend
Yes, it has happened. My little soon-to-be 16-month old son has selected a girlfriend. She is an older woman (nearly 18 months old, in fact), and she is very pretty and smart. Her name is Amy.
Today, J and Amy had a playdate. J was most irritable, and refused to nap. He fussed and carried on. He threw things and wouldn't listen. Eventually, we women took the babies out in the strollers while the men worked on renovations in the basement. J nodded off for about an hour or so in his stroller. It wasn't long enough. He continued to fuss and carry on, adding a bit of freaking-out into the mix.
But when we left, he cheered up, and he kissed Amy goodbye. We didn't ask him to; it was voluntary. He doesn't even kiss us. Only our cats. And now, Amy. Pleased with himself, he continued to give Amy kisses until we left. She smiled happily as J kissed her. It was the cutest!
**********
Amy is a very smart little girl. She does baby sign, and she has a set of flashcards that she plays with. She keeps them in a red bucket. We were hanging out in her room. She was calmly running her flashcards and playing with her books. She turned to me and baby-signed, explaining to me that she had seen a pig the other day. And then she returned to her flashcards, looking at pictures of peas and beans, of pigs and ducks.
Meanwhile, J grabbed all the cards, threw them on the floor, stomped around on them for a bit, then put the red bucket on his head and started slamming his head into the doorjamb. All I could think of was that scene in "Parenthood", and the line "You must be very proud". Clearly, J and Amy have very different personalities.
**********
H learned to frame walls today. He is pleased with his accomplishment. J destroyed a perfectly good white t-shirt of mine today when he threw blackberries at me. I am less than impressed.
**********
Last night, we had friends over for a BBQ. I was happy. People seemed to have a nice time. I had fun. It was all good. J hadn't napped during the day and he was exhausted, so I had to go in and try to cuddle him down while people were still here visiting out on our deck. I was sad that I missed out on some of the fun, but that's how it is when you have a little one. My attempts were in vain, and after folks had gone home, we still had to take J out for a drive to get him to calm down and fall asleep.
But while they were here, it was all good. We hung out in the backyard. We took the kids to the playground. I got to give Izzy a piggyback ride on the way back, and we had a lovely conversation. (She's a sweetie!) The kids tried to climb up the mountain that we fondly call "the backyard".
I love my friends!
**********
Early birthday presents:
Today, J and Amy had a playdate. J was most irritable, and refused to nap. He fussed and carried on. He threw things and wouldn't listen. Eventually, we women took the babies out in the strollers while the men worked on renovations in the basement. J nodded off for about an hour or so in his stroller. It wasn't long enough. He continued to fuss and carry on, adding a bit of freaking-out into the mix.
But when we left, he cheered up, and he kissed Amy goodbye. We didn't ask him to; it was voluntary. He doesn't even kiss us. Only our cats. And now, Amy. Pleased with himself, he continued to give Amy kisses until we left. She smiled happily as J kissed her. It was the cutest!
**********
Amy is a very smart little girl. She does baby sign, and she has a set of flashcards that she plays with. She keeps them in a red bucket. We were hanging out in her room. She was calmly running her flashcards and playing with her books. She turned to me and baby-signed, explaining to me that she had seen a pig the other day. And then she returned to her flashcards, looking at pictures of peas and beans, of pigs and ducks.
Meanwhile, J grabbed all the cards, threw them on the floor, stomped around on them for a bit, then put the red bucket on his head and started slamming his head into the doorjamb. All I could think of was that scene in "Parenthood", and the line "You must be very proud". Clearly, J and Amy have very different personalities.
**********
H learned to frame walls today. He is pleased with his accomplishment. J destroyed a perfectly good white t-shirt of mine today when he threw blackberries at me. I am less than impressed.
**********
Last night, we had friends over for a BBQ. I was happy. People seemed to have a nice time. I had fun. It was all good. J hadn't napped during the day and he was exhausted, so I had to go in and try to cuddle him down while people were still here visiting out on our deck. I was sad that I missed out on some of the fun, but that's how it is when you have a little one. My attempts were in vain, and after folks had gone home, we still had to take J out for a drive to get him to calm down and fall asleep.
But while they were here, it was all good. We hung out in the backyard. We took the kids to the playground. I got to give Izzy a piggyback ride on the way back, and we had a lovely conversation. (She's a sweetie!) The kids tried to climb up the mountain that we fondly call "the backyard".
I love my friends!
**********
Early birthday presents:
- Really cool business card holder from L&P. (I got my cards the day before, which was a really cool coincidence!)
- "The Notebook" on DVD from L&M. (I haven't seen it, and I want to. We'll be watching it soon; probably tomorrow.) And movie certificates! For an evening out! I can't wait!!
- MP3 player from H. (It's way small, and way purple. And I love it way much! The girls at work all tend to listen to their MP3 players while working on their files, and now I can too. YESSSS!)
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
A chocolate dip donut by any other name would smell like chocolate
So today, after dealing with the Bank, I ripped the head off of an alarmingly incompetent Tim Horton's employee. It seems to me that I encounter many alarmingly incompetent people in my travels. I don't know if I encounter more of them than average, or if I simply lack requisite patience to deal with them. I suspect the latter is true.
The Bank was incompetent. In all honesty, I would have been laughing my head off had this been happening to someone else. But it wasn't. It was happening to me. And the humor of the situation somehow escaped me at the time.
I repeatedly explained to the manager on the other end of the line that my student line is required annually for tuition, was in good standing, and was unilaterally closed. But she couldn't find a record of me anywhere on the system. And to add insult to injury, she didn't even believe that I dealt with that branch. Or even with that bank. She just kept asking me if I was sure that I had the right number. She then asked me to call back on another day with my old account number, at which point I screamed "This is ridiculous!!" and she elected to go into the back to find the hard copy of the file.
She located it, but it didn't help. Our next problem was one of timelines. She simply could not grasp the concept that this is 2006. Nor could she accept the fact that 2005 precedes 2006 by exactly one year. When I told her that I had registered last summer and paid last fall, she accusingly responded that her records show that I last registered in August of 2005 and paid in October of 2005. And I cried out, "That's what I just said!!"
She insisted that the account was dormant for inactivity. And as she insisted that I would now have to reapply and that the whole thing was somehow my fault, I swear that I started to involuntarily twitch. I reamed into her but good and told her I'd be looking for another bank to give my business. And then I said something insulting but well-deserved, and hung up on her.
Right around the time I was hunting around for my bottle of vodka and high-powered sniper rifle, she called back saying that she had found a way to help me. I did what she requested, then tried to calm down and continue to work on my file. But my concentration was lacking, I couldn't stop twitching, and the girls in my area decided that a walk over to Timmy's might be calming. So off we went. A quick walk, a bit of caffeine and sugar, and I should feel better. Right?
Right?
Hello?
And that's when the Tim Horton's employee dared to cross my path. I tried to be polite. Honest, I did. But I know that I came across as impatient and unpleasant. And while I think she deserved some impatience, I was probably a bit more impatient than was required in all circumstances. Really, it was mostly just the day I'd been having. But honestly, what has become of good customer service?
Let's start with this: When someone orders a Coke, and you respond with "Can or Bottle?", it would be good if those options are both products that your location carries. When your customer responds "Bottle", she usually doesn't expect to hear "Oh, we don't carry bottles at this location".
"A can will be fine", I said. "Could I get a straw?"
"They're right there", she replied, gesturing to the counter behind her. Where I am not permitted to go, as I am not an employee.
"Could I please have one?" I asked politely. And she rolled her eyes and got me a straw.
Next?
"We don't have chocolate dip donuts."
"Yes you do. They're right here in the case."
"No. We don't have chocolate dip donuts. Just these chocolate cake ones."
"These ones. Right here. That I'm pointing to. With the chocolate icing"
"Oh. Those are honey dip."
"They have chocolate on them! You know what ... just please give me one. Thanks."
And then? I went to pay. With debit. Other people were paying with debit. It was working just fine for everyone else. My coworkers had no trouble. But this young lady couldn't figure out the machine. And my transaction didn't go through. I was still trying to be patient, as I said "Let's try it again".
"Oh", she responded, "I think it's down. Did you wanna pay with cash?"
"No, I don't want to pay with cash!" I snapped. "Please try it again!"
This time it worked, and I headed back to the office, victoriously carrying my prey: a can of Coke and a chocolate dip donut (or ICBM, or whatever you want to call it).
The good news is that the situation with the Bank is all straightened out. I got my donut and my Coke. And I guess it really doesn't matter to me if you call it a chocolate dipped intercontinental ballistic missile; it's still a donut. It still has chocolate. And it's still delicious.
Really, I have very few problems that can't be solved with chocolate.
The Bank was incompetent. In all honesty, I would have been laughing my head off had this been happening to someone else. But it wasn't. It was happening to me. And the humor of the situation somehow escaped me at the time.
I repeatedly explained to the manager on the other end of the line that my student line is required annually for tuition, was in good standing, and was unilaterally closed. But she couldn't find a record of me anywhere on the system. And to add insult to injury, she didn't even believe that I dealt with that branch. Or even with that bank. She just kept asking me if I was sure that I had the right number. She then asked me to call back on another day with my old account number, at which point I screamed "This is ridiculous!!" and she elected to go into the back to find the hard copy of the file.
She located it, but it didn't help. Our next problem was one of timelines. She simply could not grasp the concept that this is 2006. Nor could she accept the fact that 2005 precedes 2006 by exactly one year. When I told her that I had registered last summer and paid last fall, she accusingly responded that her records show that I last registered in August of 2005 and paid in October of 2005. And I cried out, "That's what I just said!!"
She insisted that the account was dormant for inactivity. And as she insisted that I would now have to reapply and that the whole thing was somehow my fault, I swear that I started to involuntarily twitch. I reamed into her but good and told her I'd be looking for another bank to give my business. And then I said something insulting but well-deserved, and hung up on her.
Right around the time I was hunting around for my bottle of vodka and high-powered sniper rifle, she called back saying that she had found a way to help me. I did what she requested, then tried to calm down and continue to work on my file. But my concentration was lacking, I couldn't stop twitching, and the girls in my area decided that a walk over to Timmy's might be calming. So off we went. A quick walk, a bit of caffeine and sugar, and I should feel better. Right?
Right?
Hello?
And that's when the Tim Horton's employee dared to cross my path. I tried to be polite. Honest, I did. But I know that I came across as impatient and unpleasant. And while I think she deserved some impatience, I was probably a bit more impatient than was required in all circumstances. Really, it was mostly just the day I'd been having. But honestly, what has become of good customer service?
Let's start with this: When someone orders a Coke, and you respond with "Can or Bottle?", it would be good if those options are both products that your location carries. When your customer responds "Bottle", she usually doesn't expect to hear "Oh, we don't carry bottles at this location".
"A can will be fine", I said. "Could I get a straw?"
"They're right there", she replied, gesturing to the counter behind her. Where I am not permitted to go, as I am not an employee.
"Could I please have one?" I asked politely. And she rolled her eyes and got me a straw.
Next?
"We don't have chocolate dip donuts."
"Yes you do. They're right here in the case."
"No. We don't have chocolate dip donuts. Just these chocolate cake ones."
"These ones. Right here. That I'm pointing to. With the chocolate icing"
"Oh. Those are honey dip."
"They have chocolate on them! You know what ... just please give me one. Thanks."
And then? I went to pay. With debit. Other people were paying with debit. It was working just fine for everyone else. My coworkers had no trouble. But this young lady couldn't figure out the machine. And my transaction didn't go through. I was still trying to be patient, as I said "Let's try it again".
"Oh", she responded, "I think it's down. Did you wanna pay with cash?"
"No, I don't want to pay with cash!" I snapped. "Please try it again!"
This time it worked, and I headed back to the office, victoriously carrying my prey: a can of Coke and a chocolate dip donut (or ICBM, or whatever you want to call it).
The good news is that the situation with the Bank is all straightened out. I got my donut and my Coke. And I guess it really doesn't matter to me if you call it a chocolate dipped intercontinental ballistic missile; it's still a donut. It still has chocolate. And it's still delicious.
Really, I have very few problems that can't be solved with chocolate.
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