Here comes the brain again.

Posted on February 13, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

I’ve been following the writer Kate Zimmerman for a few months now.

Not literally. Everyone settle down.

Following as in reading. She’s very funny. I like following funny.

I noticed that her blog site sat empty for a while — no new content.

“Sad,” I thought. “Another blog abandoned.”

Little did I know. <Cue the mystery and intrigue music.>

Shortly after I had that thought, she posted a three–part series about being first diagnosed with a benign brain tumour and the subsequent operation to remove it.

Okay, I suppose a few weeks off from entertaining me is alright then. Must you be so dramatic about it though? If you need a vacation, just say so. Sheesh.

This week she posted about her ongoing recovery. And we can safely say her sense of humour was not damaged in the operation.

Go read it.

I love her description of neuroplasticity.

Maybe one day she’ll write her own humourous version of Stroke of Insight.

I’d read that.

Here’s Jill Bolton Taylore’s Ted Talk about her stroke. It’s really fascinating stuff. But I warn you, she brings out a naked brain.

Okay, the embedding isn’t working. Frustrating. Inserting a video used to be so easy in WordPress and then they went and IMPROVED it and now it won’t work.

Here’s the link. I’ll try to put it in a separate post if I can get my snot-covered brain to still fire its synapses through the muck.

If you still want more brains go here.

Posted in Aliens and uncharted planets, Gravity, Sun | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Dilbert 2.0

Posted on February 10, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

One of my Christmas presents was Dilbert 2.0 by Scott Adams.  

(Hi Scott, I know you’re on Google Alert, so now that I’ve said ‘Dilbert’ and ‘Scott Adams,’ I realize that you may pop by and see what’s going on over here. If you do…well…welcome! Thanks for Dilbert, your books, and your blog, they’ve given me a lot to laugh about and think about over the years.) 

| Sidebar | Google Alert is kind of like the new Bat Signal isn’t it? We need a Dilbert Alert in the following circumstances:

1) Blind faith in business jargon is expected; e.g. “We have to approach the paradigm shift strategically.” 

2) When infrastructure turns sociopathic. Witness this nightmare of customer service.

Suddenly a Dilbert Shadow would appear in the company’s intranet, anonymous memos showing up with no words, just an ominous Dilbert watermark. It would be the proverbial writing on the wall to let people know that they are about to show up in a Dilbert cartoon or discussed on the Dilbert blog.

BEWARE! MOCKING IMMINENT! REPENT YOUR CORPORATE WAYS!

Anyhoo. Back to the business at hand. Enough flights of fancy, this is a serious bjournal gol darn it!

I thought Dilbert 2.0 was a really good read, which is saying something for a comic. I enjoyed Scott’s description of how Dilbert came to be and his journey up to iconic status. It was unexpectedly inspirational. I did put the book down even more cynical in terms of business jargon, which all things considered is probably a good thing — and I was probably there anyway. I enjoyed his commentary on selected comics so much that I wanted there to be a commentary on every single one, which I know is just greedy, but I just can’t help it. I want what I want.

This is the cartoon from way back in the dark ages — March 3, 1996 to be exact —  that made me love Dilbert:

 

Dilbefrt, March 3, 1996 by Scott Adams

Dilbert, March 3, 1996 by Scott Adams

 

I think it’s hilariously shocking to see someone (albeit in a comic) identify out loud what the dynamics of the situation really are and how that simple act sends Dilbert into this outrageous act of honesty. I still think it’s delightful.

To summarize: Dilbert 2.0. Good. You should buy it.

Posted in Leaves | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

In search of bravery ham

Posted on February 9, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

Yesterday, I found myself trying to get inside my dog’s head — a dark and perplexing place — I don’t recommend it.

Our supposedly very intelligent Labrador-Retriever cross has decided that she cannot come up the porch stairs. She can go down the stairs just fine. Coming back up, oooh big problem.

Down stairs. Good.

Up stairs. Bad.

?????

Now, I’ve deduced with my Holmesian powers of deduction that what must have happened is this: during our epic cold winter (it was cold for the West Coast dammit, so just you never mind) there was some black ice on the stairs. She must have fallen from one of the lower stairs when she was coming up. So, now in her mind, the stairs really are just fine for going down, but they do not work if you are climbing back up.

So, this is how I found myself standing at the top of the porch stairs calling in a winning voice. She just batted her soulful brown eyes at me and lifted her ears in a “but why don’t you just open the basement door and let me in?” way. I remained resolute. This dog was going to get over this hang up if it killed me–and I’m NOT bringing in the Dog Whisperer. I left her favourite toys at the top of the stairs. Nothing doing. Just more pathetic whimpering. Finally, I resorted to getting the week-old cold cuts out of the meat drawer (why is meat drawer so much fun to say?) and placed one on each step…just…out…of…reach. And it STILL took 1/2 hour of pleading and whining (from the dog, I was rolling my eyes and summoning family members to watch) and futile attempts to try to s…t…r…e…t…c…h her tongue just enough to get that tantalizing black forest ham off of the stairs. She would go back to her starting position and start valiantly, casually even. Here I am, going up the stairs. La, la, la, la, la. But always at the three-step mark she’d lose her nerve. Back down, go to the starting position. Repeat.

It took 1/2 an hour for her to finally decide that she believed in black forest ham more than her own demise at the hand of the EVIL up stairs. (Remember, the down stairs are just fine).

By that time, we’d all left her for more interesting occupations and it was only the sound of her toenails clicking overhead that alerted us to her ham-induced bravery.

A dark and perplexing place I tell you.

But, it got me to wishing that I had my equivalent of week-old cold cuts that could entice me to give up my most cherished fears.

Maybe that’s why I keep opening the fridge. It must be in here somewhere. My talisman, my bravery crystal, it’s right here in this tub of dill pickle dip.

Yes, as it turns out my own mind is an equally dark and perplexing place.

Want more dog brains? Go here.

Now tell me. Do you have a bravery ham? Is there something that you use to motivate yourself to do the really scary stuff. Does it work?

Posted in Aliens and uncharted planets, Minor notes in the celestial chord, Observatory, Wonderment | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

20 years ago today

Posted on February 6, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

It was 20 years ago today that I got the worst news of my young life. My best friend, Michaeleen had been killed in a car accident. This is what I posted last year on her birthday, but I would like to re-print it today.

But first, since some of you already read that entry, I share with you another of the many notes written to me by Michaeleen.  This particular note was written on a brown paper lunch bag. (Be warned, there is an RIP reference in it, but don’t let that throw you, we refer to our own deaths several times a day in an offhand way, so just let it be.)

To whom it may concern,

This paper bag is a cry for help to please get me out of this extremely BORING class. Unfortunately I don’t have a bottle to put this S.O.S. in (slight musical reference).

If you wish you may place anything you wish (preferably not a Wayne Gretzky doll) [in this bag]. I wouldn’t mind if you put Sting in here but it could be a bit cramped.

If you are reading this bag then you must have survived your P.E. dancercise. Well to you I say congrats because you shall be adorning me with a R.I.P sign by [turn bag over] tomorrow.

Wait, just got a note. Sally forgot our tape. Strike one up for amnesia (spelling?). I swear my spelling is becoming atrocious (not bad). I’ll have to read a dictionary for silent reading. Ha wouldn’t I look intellectual!

Well this has been my meager little note and if you don’t choose to read it look on the bright side, you could always use it for a hand puppet and call him Harry.

From Muck

And now, the entry from last year:

April 10th is my good friend Michaeleen’s birthday. She was killed in a car accident almost 20 years ago, but I still miss her. We became friends in Grade 3, and remained good friends up until her death at the way too young age of 21 (2 months shy of turning 22). 

Interestingly enough, in my dreams, she hasn’t remained the age she was when she died. She got older, married, and the last time I dreamed about her she had been working as a writer for the CBC. I know that’s a little weird, but I have found it comforting throughout the years.

If she had lived, I’m sure she would have been a writer of some renown by now. She had just had her first published piece in her college writing collection and she was planning to do more classes in creative writing. When we were in high school we were in different classes and often would spend a boring class writing a note to the other, which we would then exchange in the hallways as we changed classes. It was entertaining and a great way to prevent oneself from falling asleep in history class. I kept all her notes to me because, well I’m sentimental that way, and her writing even at the tender age of 16 was so good. And here I share with you one of her masterpieces (I want you to remember back to high school when one had to use blue pen (not black) in English and pencil (not pen) in Math. Ah, the years of petty rules.

To Cluck [ed note: my nickname was Cluck, hers was Muck, as in MuckCluck, get it?]

This is a terrorist threat. If you don’t hand over $1,000,000 you will be sorry. Put the money in an unmarked lunch bag and place it in Rm 21 on the third desk in the row closest to the window. (I realize you must be tired after that sentence, but do it anyway.) If the money isn’t in my possession by lunch time tomorrow life will become very difficult for you. Your Snap album will mysteriously disappear. Your ghetto blaster will be set in front of a herd of raging elephants. And you might as well say good-bye to FRED [ed note: Fred was my large stuffed duck which was something of an ongoing inside joke]. Even I’m too squeamish to tell you what will happen to him. THIS IS NOT A JOKE. These directions had better be followed OR ELSE.

Love always,

The Mafia

Life is tough eh Cluck? [ed note: you know we’re Canadian right?] Oh well, don’t worry. You have to logically list your problems and then solve them. What could possibly be wrong with your life beside Xavier [Ed note, boy I had a crush on, not his real name], school, and a terrorist threat. Look, see it’s not so bad.

Instant and automatic change to pen to make your world a little more blue. Not blue in the sense of feeling but blue in the sense of colour. Since everything in this school is blue [ed note: Catholic girls’ school with Navy Blue uniforms] the pen might as well be too.

WAIT A REBELLION. I DARE TO WRITE IN RED. WHAT COURAGE, WHAT VALOR, A REBEL WITH A CAUSE. I LOVE IT.

Well back to the same, old, boring blue pen. A b rebellion can only last for so long.

BUT EVERY SO OFTEN THAT TINY REBEL WILL EMERGE AND FIGHT AGAINST THE STEREOTYPENESS OF SOCIETY.

Well, must go. The bell.

Love Muck,

AND HER TINY REBEL

See what I mean? That was written with only one scratch out–she had started to spell rebellion with a b.

I love the idea of the Red Pen Rebel. On the surface so nice and polite, acquiescent and compliant. And then very quietly doing your own thing anyway. ‘Cause sometimes the rules are stupid.

So, here’s to you my Red Pen Rebel. I miss you.

And in honour of the Red Pen Rebel spirit, today, I will NOT sign the kids’ planners. Ha ha! Wow! That’s surprisingly very freeing.

How will you honour the Red Pen Rebel spirit today? What stupid rules will you break?

Posted in celestial beings | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Things I Love Today

Posted on February 5, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

These are some things I love today:

  • Roasted red pepper hummus
  • Tap dance class
  • This picture of my son:

 Now, tell me some things you love today.

Posted in Star Catalogue | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

The Mentalist

Posted on February 4, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

Watched The Mentalist last night.

I think this is the first time I’ve made it all the way through an episode. Not because the show’s bad or anything, it’s just because, for some reason, I seem to be really tired on Tuesday nights (I blame the mid-day spin class). I watch the first five minutes and then wake up to see who did it, hope to catch one more glimpse of Patrick Jane and then decide I don’t care because I’ve missed the whole episode anyway.

It’s actually a pretty good television show. It’s got some interesting writing. And Simon Baker does a commendable job with the material and the character. The creators are relying on some formulaes, such as the guy who knows all because he’s a genius and possesses skills that give him insight where no normal human being could find them. He also has a deep wound (something about the death of a wife and child, but like I said, I missed it while I snored dozed on the couch). There’s also the tough as nails but pretty woman cop who doesn’t understand being womanly and feels like her authority isn’t recognized as much as it would be if she were a man.

But I don’t care, because frankly, he’s just so pretty (in a manly kind of way). To be truthful, I watch just to watch him. Come on, look at him…simon-baker1

 

<sigh>

Look at how his eyes crinkle in a devastating way when he smiles. And he has a way of finding everything just ever so slightly amusing and speaking in a low whispery voice that means if you were actually in a room with him instead of watching him on the box you’d have to lean in to hear him.

Just <sigh>

 

 

I predict that The Mentalist will succeed longer than Lie to Me simply because I would way rather look at Simon Baker than Tim Roth. Am I alone in this? I think not. Okay, ya, Tim Roth is a fantastic character actor, yada, yada, yada. On a Tuesday night, I don’t know that I want something quite so gritty and estimable.

tim-roth

Need I say more?

Now, someone needs to put Simon Baker and Hugh Jackman in a movie together to make a perfect storm of Australian hunkdom. Perhaps a remake of The Philadelphia Story with Cate Blanchett playing the Katherine Hepburn character (but not as Katherine Hepburn this time), just to make it an all-Australian cast. I’d pay money to see that.

What do you think?

Posted in Stardust | Tagged , , , | 9 Comments

This just out–You can’t ride a vacuum to Heaven. Even a cordless.

Posted on February 3, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

Fresh thinking…

Fresh thinking means not only a dirt-free home

But also a stress-free life

Buy our vacuum and you too will have Fresh Thoughts. You will have the ability to suck your stresses away with a flick of the flexible wand (patent pending).

Okay, that last bit is made up (and has some questionable double entendres that I swear I didn’t see when I first wrote it). But those first three lines? Totally real. It boggles the mind doesn’t it?  Someone in Marketing came up with that statement, thought it was A Good Idea and pitched it to Those In Places of Authority, who then agreed that it was A Good Idea, and Authorized The Funds so that Creative could Make An Ad set to the kind of music you hear while you’re at the spa to Sell a Canister Vacuum. Because of course, Vacuum = Transcendence.

Isn’t the canister vacuum idea decades old? How is that Fresh Thinking?

I can’t help but think that’s a lot of pressure on a vacuum. That ain’t just suck wattage they’re measuring, oh no. It’s got a whole new set of performance measures to live up to. Now, not only does a vacuum suck dirt through a tube into a canister, it makes your home completely dirt-free AND your ENTIRE LIFE stress-free. I wonder how that poor vacuum’s performance review goes…

So, Guru Vac, the Robinson family adopted you. How would you rate your performance this year?

Oh, excellent sir, excellent. I think the Robinson’s have really benefitted from my presence.

Is that right? Well, I can’t help but notice that Mrs. Robinson is still suffering from Parkinson’s, Mr. Robinson lost his job, their eldest got busted for cocaine possession, and (I have to say this is the part that really disturbs me) their windows are still quite dirty.

Sir, I’m a vacuum, I can’t wash windows.

Do I need to remind you that Guru Vac’s way is to apply Fresh Thinking to that problem? Crack that cosmic egg! Shift some paradigms! Think outside the canister! Your a canister vacuum, not a CANTister. Ha Ha!…See what I just did there?…Little pun…Anyway! You’re avoiding the other issues–didn’t you do anything about the stresses in their home?

Well, their dog can be their best friend again. I took away all that dander.

You think their springer spaniel is going to fix that mess?

Well, not entirely I guess, but he’s really cute. That’s de-stressing. Right?

Hmmmm. Did you offer them family counselling? You took the course we offered, isn’t that correct?

 Yes, but I hardly think that a two-day crash course qualifies me to deal with the stresses of an incurable illness, a f*****d up economy, and addiction problems!!

Woah! I think you’d better take a deep calming breath, Guru Vac. You are really jangling my aura.

Oh, I’ll show you a deep calming breath! (Guru Vac sucks up the personnel manager with his considerable suck power)

“Huh. How about that? I do feel less stressed. I guess sometimes there is truth in advertising.

And now I’m wondering what the warning label looks like:

WARNING: Transcendence is not for everyone. If you experience any unexpected side effects, such as desiring to save a small African country from the horrors of AIDS and malaria, discontinue use, and seek the professional help of our Guru Mop™. Beware of ceiling fans while in mystic hovering trance. Stress may blow back in your face while emptying canister. If it does, seek the immediate attention of a Certified Guru Blow Dryer™. Do not use during any plagues as it will become immediately apparent that this machine is not designed for actual spiritual aid.

Man, I gotta get me one of those.

A few years back we made the mistake of letting a vacuum salesman into our house on the promise of a free trip for a ‘no-pressure 20 minute sales-pitch.’ At the 90-minute mark, after listening to how this vacuum would solidify my status as an unparalled Good Mother by protecting my beloved and breakable infants from the evil perils of dust and dander, I finally got to the heart of the matter:

How much does the damn vacuum cost?

Just three dollars a day for the next three years.

This vacuum costs (wait let me do the math) $3,000 dollars?! Hmm. Let me think about that. Get out of my house!

But your children! Won’t you do it for the love of your children?

I would throw myself in front of a bus to protect my children. Dust, I guess they’re just going to have to handle on their own. Thank you very much. Buh bye.

All that being said, it’s not like I haven’t had a love affair or two with a vacuum. No wait. THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT! Oh honestly. You people are so hard to talk to sometimes.

I shall try again.

There is something about the combination of technology with practicality that I often find enchanting in a salivating, gotta have it kind of way. It’s just so cool! With all that plastic space-age molding, those inventive, winning accessories, suck power that could take the fringes off your area rug, just add some stainless steel paint, and an accent colour and you’ve got yourself a birthday present for Tentative Equinox North that guarantees you undying devotion. (Pool Boy, I hope you’re listening). I know, household cleaning appliances don’t scream “perfect birthday present’ to most people. But then, when have I ever professed to be most people? And admit it, you’re just a little bit jealous that I had the courage to say it out loud.

Let me share another little secret with you. If I had my high school locker back, I would decorate it with a poster of James Dyson. There would also be a DC16 hanging in the back for quick messes. Forget that Duran Duran crap. Okay, I’d probably keep Sting. Not even James Dyson can replace Sting in my heart.

But still, James Dyson is no slouch. Solved the problem of suction loss? Added a ball to the bottom of his vacuums instead of those lame wheels? Frankly, I had no idea the wheels were lame or that I suffered from suction loss before James Dyson came on to the scene, vacuuming his way into my heart. But now I’m enlightened. I know the true path to Vacuuming Heaven. And it’s name is Dyson. Plus that distinguished salty hair with that long distance runner physique and an adorable English accent? Sign that man up for a Nobel prize of some kind and is there a Facebook group I can join!

Wait a second. Of course. There is indeed a Dyson fan page on Facebook. Quite a few posts that say BEST. VACUUM. EVER.

It almost makes it sad that I have hardwood in most of my house.

Getting back to my original point–a vacuum is just a vacuum. Even James Dyson, the true Vacuum King, does not promise that his vacuum will give you a stress-free life or a completely dirt-free home. He promises that it will work and will work better than other vacuums.

I just want things to work properly.

And as far as a vacuum (or any other household technology) goes, THAT’S a philosophy I can get behind.

Do you have a vacuum that you swear by or swear at?

Posted in Aliens and uncharted planets, Minor notes in the celestial chord, Mothership, Observatory | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

At the table with my skates on

Posted on February 2, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

I was reminded of the series The Legends of Hockey (kind of like the Baseball series, but with Hockey). I learned a profound lesson from that series. Here it is.

One of the legends (I think it was Gordie Howe, but don’t quote me) talked about how he and his brothers and his friends felt about hockey as kids. Let me paraphrase:

We went out on the ice and played hockey before school. We played hockey after school. My mother would call us in for dinner and put newspaper down on the floor so we could walk in with our skates still on, eat dinner and get back on the ice.

They loved hockey so much, they would eat dinner with their skates still on, to save time, so they wouldn’t have to put their skates back on after dinner.

Their parents didn’t have to nag them to practice. They didn’t need to be nagged. They wanted to do it. Lived to do it. Couldn’t stop doing it.

As a person with an artistic bent it’s a good reminder. What are the things that I love doing so much that I would keep my skates on at the dinner table? And why do I stop myself from doing them so much? I continuously tell myself I can’t do that thing until I do this other tedious thing. If I let myself do the creative stuff, I’m taking the time, not giving myself the time. Granted, some tedious things must be done, but what are the skates still strapped to my feet while I’m doing that tedious thing?

And as a parent, what are the things that my kids love doing that much? Maybe my job is more introducing them around to a bunch of stuff until they find that thing, rather than nagging them to do a bunch of stuff they don’t want to do. Because as I’ve observed before, it is much easier to parent when your kid wants to do something. The trick is in getting to the wanting.

And as a regular person it’s a good reminder that suffering and have-to’s are not the way to live well, because well, it’s just so hard to sustain a regime of have-to’s. If I want to eat the food in front of me I will. So, why not make an effort to make healthy food that calls out to be eaten? Why not find the physical activity, I want to do rather than force myself to do push-ups?

What is your ‘wear my skates at the dinner table’ thing? Do you have more than one?

Posted in Big Bang, Mothership, Observatory, Stardust, Wonderment | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Warning: Your invisibility powers have worn off

Posted on February 1, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

I found myself on Skytrain the other day.

I know it’s better for the planet and all, but I hate public transit. It’s exhausting being with a bunch of other people that I can’t stare at and don’t want to talk to.

You would think that someone with a diploma in human resources might like people more than I do. I find people fascinating, but like them? …well…let’s just leave it at I find people fascinating and move on.

The fascinating creature that presented herself to me while I was on Skytrain wore a velour sock cap covering hair that, judging by the odour, had not been washed since, I don’t know, Halloween maybe. She sat down in the seat in front of me and proceeded to turn sideways in her chair, stick her elbow through the metal bars invading my personal space by a goodly distance. She sat sideways in order to better carry on a conversation at incredibly loud decibels with a teenaged mom (her friend? her daughter? impossible to tell) across the aisle. But this creature was also something of a mush mouth since I couldn’t actually discern much of what was being said although it was said at these loud decibels. At regular intervals she would use the hand connected to the elbow invading my personal space and insert it up inside the sock cap to scratch what must have been an incredibly itchy unwashed scalp. And then the icing on my cake of fascination, she started to use her fingers to pluck out unwanted facial hair. Then examine her fingers for the offending hair. Nothing? Better try again. Successful this time? Nope. Repeat and repeat, ad nauseum.

Good lord woman!

First of all, has ANYONE successfully plucked unwanted facial hair using their fingers? I’ve tried (in the privacy of my own bathroom, on hypothetical unwanted facial hair) and it doesn’t work. You need tweezers.

Second of all, WE CAN SEE YOU! You are not invisible. This is not your bathroom or even your living room. It is a public, shared space. I do not wish to see you carry on your personal ablutions in a public shared space, ESPECIALLY while it is invading my personal space.

Deep calming breath. Must. Keep. Blood. Pressure. Down.

That is all.

This ends my trilogy of grumpiness. I promise to look on the brighter side of life, uh, starting tomorrow.

Just don’t p**s me off.

Posted in Aliens and uncharted planets, Minor notes in the celestial chord, Observatory | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

What? Surely you don’t mean me?

Posted on January 31, 2009 by Tentative Equinox North

Call me a curmudgeon if you will, a cynic, a glass-half empty type, but I will not be wearing pink on anti-bullying day. The story of how this pink wearing day came about is heartwarming and full of compassion. I cry when I read it. But making it a day and cause is not support, it’s an empty gesture. I mean, who is FOR bullying? Not the victims. Not even the bullies. The problem is what to do in the actual moment and aftermath of bullying.

A couple of years ago a boy at school ridiculed my daughter. She cried.

A week later, I saw him at a school field trip wearing pink in support of the anti-bullying cause.

So, you see wearing pink on anti-bullying day doesn’t actually mean you’re not a bully. Because in my book saying mean things to people to the point that they cry is being a bully. You see how that works?

Well, it’s not like the bullies have their own club do they? Bullies don’t see themselves as bullies.

But in our culture, being seen to be in support of something or against something is more important than actually incorporating that message into our behaviour. We love joining facebook groups, wearing ribbons, waving signs even (although that might be going a little far ’cause jeez it’s cold outside), but the cold hard reality of trying to get through the day without a paper cup of coffee, or a plastic bag, or keeping my bone marrow, kidneys, and blood to myself, well, it’s a bit much eh?

But people are like that aren’t they? We (and by we, I mean you) don’t like changing our (your) behaviour or thinking of (y)ourselves in a poor light.

How many times have you heard in the workplace (or the home for that matter):

I’m all for everyone else working harder. Me? I’m in a perpetual sweat here. My fingers are worn down to the nubs and I’m having heart palpitations from work-induced anxiety. It’s true I haven’t missed House, Bones, Law and Order (all versions), CSI (all versions), The Bachelor, Survivor, Trading Spaces, Prank Patrol, Lost or 24 for the last 6 months, but I’m sure I was working while I did that. See how the floor in front of the tv is very clean?

I once asked someone to look into something for me (not because I was lazy, of course not, see above) but because she had access to information that I simply did not. And it was her job to help me out. After a few weeks of hearing nothing I asked if she had found out anything.

Uhmm, yes, I asked this other person who thought she’d heard that the programme was full. And we really don’t think you’d benefit from the programme anyway.

????

You asked someone who THOUGHT she HEARD?  What kind of an answer is that?

And that’s not even the funny part.

After expressing to her that I was going to have to figure out how to find that information myself because I wasn’t going to let it go, she said to me:

Okay. Let me know if I can be a support to you.

???? again! First of all, you must not know what those words mean because I already gave you a chance to be a support to me. Secondly, you could have been a support to me by finding out the information I asked you to find out instead of making me circumnavigate a bureaucracy I’m not plugged into because 3) That’s what support looks like.

So, my point, and I think there’s one here, is that you should do a better job of being all the things you claim to be.

Me? I’m doing a great job thanks.

As my son once said “No one understands the Golden Rule. You know how I know that? No one is treating me the way I’d like to be treated.”

Posted in Aliens and uncharted planets, Big Bang, Minor notes in the celestial chord, Observatory | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment