Soul-wrentching anger
I hate the mall on a Saturday. Wait, no, full stop, I hate the mall. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO WALK 17 PEOPLE ABREAST?! It is unnecessary. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO STOP WALKING THE THE MIDDLE OF THE AISLE TO SCREAM INTO YOUR CELL THAT YOU ARE IN THE MALL? It is unnecessary. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BRING YOUR SCREAMING BRATTY 12 YEAR OLD WHO IS ASHAMED TO BE SEEN IN PUBLIC WITH YOU AND THEN PROCEED TO HAVE A NEGOCIATION SESSION ABOUT CHORES AND ALLOWANCE WHILE OTHER PEOPLE ARE JUST TRYING TO GET PAST YOU? It is unnecessary. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO HAVE MORE KIDS THAN HANDS OR BRAIN CELLS? It is unnecessary. UN-NEC-E-SSARY!
I can't move to the States. Canada is too awesome. On the 2nd session of 38th Parliment, we turned over a new leaf of Mapleyness. We created Bill 16. Brace yourself, it is called the APOLOGY ACT. That's right. We made a bill about saying sorry. Only here in the Great (but not better than anyone else) White (and brown and yellow and red and goash we don't even see colour anyways) North (but we know other people are northern too, we just are as well but if anyone would prefer we didn't use that term, we could change it). Now, if we could just get Dubya to create a "Fuck you we's gonna do what we want" bill, the world would be in balance...wait...isn't that the Patriot Act?
Personalities
Thanks to Suzy, my amazing Operatic friend (http://sucralose.blogspot.com/ ), I stayed up past my bedtime and took a personality test. Below are my results. Please, either or any of you, let me know if you agree wih my results...The Idealists called Teachers are abstract in their thought and speech, cooperative in their style of achieving goals, and directive and extraverted in their interpersonal relations. Learning in the young has to be beckoned forth, teased out from its hiding place, or, as suggested by the word "education," it has to be "educed." by an individual with educative capabilities. Such a one is the eNFj, thus rightly called the educative mentor or Teacher for short. The Teacher is especially capable of educing or calling forth those inner potentials each learner possesses. Even as children the Teachers may attract a gathering of other children ready to follow their lead in play or work. And they lead without seeming to do so.
Teachers expect the very best of those around them, and this expectation, usually expressed as enthusiastic encouragement, motivates action in others and the desire to live up to their expectations. Teachers have the charming characteristic of taking for granted that their expectations will be met, their implicit commands obeyed, never doubting that people will want to do what they suggest. And, more often than not, people do, because this type has extraordinary charisma.
The Teachers are found in no more than 2 or 3 percent of the population. They like to have things settled and arranged. They prefer to plan both work and social engagements ahead of time and tend to be absolutely reliable in honoring these commitments. At the same time, Teachers are very much at home in complex situations which require the juggling of much data with little pre-planning. An experienced Teacher group leader can dream up, effortlessly, and almost endlessly, activities for groups to engage in, and stimulating roles for members of the group to play. In some Teachers, inspired by the responsiveness of their students or followers, this can amount to genius which other types find hard to emulate. Such ability to preside without planning reminds us somewhat of an Provider, but the latter acts more as a master of ceremonies than as a leader of groups. Providers are natural hosts and hostesses, making sure that each guest is well looked after at social gatherings, or that the right things are expressed on traditional occasions, such as weddings, funerals, graduations, and the like. In much the same way, Teachers value harmonious human relations about all else, can handle people with charm and concern, and are usually popular wherever they are. But Teachers are not so much social as educational leaders, interested primarily in the personal growth and development of others, and less in attending to their social needs.
Mikhail Gorbachev is an example of a Teacher Idealist.
Terrible news for Lee Good!!!
Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnn
my darling Husband is sick with a leg infection...I am very worried about Him and because I can't be there with Him, I feel even worse...that fact that I have RAGING PMS (sorry, I promise this won't be one of "those" blogs but it is relevent) is making jump to worst case scenarios...He has to get better...He has to be okay...:(
A Format change
Incidently, comments are open to anyone...I wasn't feeling any love, excpet for from Angie and Rich, so I figure comments from crazy folk is better than none at all...
Mini-breaks
Oy. Vey.
So this weekend was a super cool gong show...my Darling Husband came up from The Americas to attend an interesting wedding (more on that later) in my hometown of Vic-"Just like England-Toria, which in on an Island that is serviced by the wonderful folks at B.C. ferries. I booked a very fancy pants hotel and was excited to show my hometown to my Love.
As the grat Robbie burns once wrote "The best laid plans of mince and men often turn to complete shit", well, perhaps he phrased it slightly differently, but the sentiment is the same. We got up at FIVE in the morning to catch the ferry and with very little drama it took us to the 11am wedding...So, as mentioned, Wedding=more later. We left the reception early to take mein sister back to the ferry terminal so we missed the end of the wedding, which sucked but whatever...On the way back into town, I decided we would drive past the famous "My New House" which Oma had built in the early '90's and hasn't lived in since 2000 (making it neither hers or new) unfortunately, the road that leads back to the highway that takes one into town, was closed. So, we got horribly, entertainingly lost. But, because I am a rock star, we found our way back after a mere one hour delay.
It was around this time that I realized that I had not, in fact, printed out the address or directions to the hotel. And the name wasn't entirely clear in my mind. I knew it had the word "England" in it, and possibly the word "manor" but the rest was a bit dodgdy. So, we sought out to find an internet cafe. Now, when I moved away from Victoria, Al Gore had not yet invented the internet, so I really had no idea where a net cafe might be...so, more driving around...
EVENTUALLY, we found one, that had coffee and books too so we made use of their services and carried on our merry way.
The hotel was fan-fuckin-tasic. Truly charming and our suite had my greatest (bathroom related) joy...A CLAW-FOOT TUB!!! But, the dinner hour was nigh and I had a couple of great restaurants I wanted to take Beloved to...And I couldn't find them. So we drove around more. Eventually, we decided to go to the Keg before we morphed into the Donner family, and got a table quite quickly...I ordered prime rib, excited to taste a new style of steak. Prime rib isn't steak. Prime rib is roast beef. Roast beef isn't steak. Hmph.
We went back to the hotel and yadayadayada I enjoyed my tub, Rich did whatever it is men do while their wives are enjoying their tubs and we retired to bed. Which creaked charmingly as we lay down. Then, it broke.
The. Bed. Broke. The worst part? WE WEREN'T EVEN DOING ANYTHING!!!!
It was now 12:30...The front desk was closed so The Husband talked to some maintence dude who came up and decided to go look for twobfours to put under the bed. Truly brilliant. Then he came back and said perhaps the twobfours was a bad idea after all and we changed rooms. Which was also lovely but didn't have a clawfoot.
The next day, the hotel offered us free food and a free upgrade next time and their most abject apologies and we carried on with our day. Rich wasn't feeling very well and was getting progressively worse as the day wore on. And we lost the restaurant where we were going to have lunch.
I dropped Rich off at the Clipper dock and drove off to catch my ferry home, on which I had a reservation for the 7 pm sailing.
Now, people who have never been to Victoria, the people of the "rock" are largely 100 years old and/or hippies. Meaning, THEY CAN'T DRIVE. Do to the SUCK, I missed the cutoff by FIVE STINKING LOUSY BLOOY BUGGERY MINUTES. And had to wait for the 9 pm. So, I was stuck in a parking lot for 2.5 HOURS.
THEN, because this weekend rocks, the ferry was delayed by an hour. AND THEY CLOSED THE COFFEE SHOP AT THE TERMINAL. So I didn't get hom until 12:30.
Poo. Mini-breaks suck.
Crazy Old Tax
Ugh...I have been busy...So, sorry to both people who read this. And thank you for your B-Day wishes. I am officially closer to 30 than to 23. Meh. Don't really care all that much one way or the other. Apparently, I am not allowed to have age crisis. Which, as I was born at age 47, is fine by me. Incident's, I just noticed I SPELLED MY OWN BLOG WRONG! I am so ashamed.Alright, I heard this on the radio this morning, and rather than research it, I decided to be outraged and ill-informed. It's my birthday, I'm allowed.The Canadian government issued a formal apology to "victims" (CBC's wording, not mine) of a $500 head tax on Chinese immigrants who immigrated to Canada after the First World War (which ended oh, about 88 years ago). Making all the "victim" well into their Golden years. Families of these "victims" are glad about the apology but many want retribution. For $500. To move here. And live here. Which they did. And are doing (when they aren't dropping like flies due to their advanced years).That is, as my biggest crush outside my Husband would say (Penn, not Teller), BULLSHIT. FIRST OF ALL...There are no victims here...Native Americans=victims, African American slaves=victims, holocaust surivors=victims...Chinese people who paid to enter a country where they were allowed to live? Not so much. I mean, yes, of course they were treated horribly when they got here. But, what immigrant wasn't treated badly in the earlier part of the 20th century?? One of the families of these "head tax surviors" thought the Canadian government ought to pay reparations...m'kay...Here is your $500 bucks, and please enjoy China.Argh. Canada, my home and native land, makes me tired.
