I hate having to check my email in the store.
There's people around all the time and I can't be sure that no-one is reading over my shoulder.
That's one of the things I really miss about being home. That and having a house all to ourselves, with only our dirty dishes on the counter.
And the heat.
It's so cold here, even though it's a sunny day. I've been told July gets warmer. It had better be true.
But life is good. Even if I'm cold. And the job is good as well. So I'll stop complaining now.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Life
My life is going pretty well. I'm enjoying myself and don't have anything to complain about.
The lives of some of the people who are important to me aren't as free from care.
It's confusing. I don't know what to think or feel. I'm trying to just feel what's there and not think about it too much right now.
Other than that I don't have much to say except that I'm really, really glad S. is there for me.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Northern Life So Far
The week we left for Barkerville my car died. I drove it to Rosebud so that it would be looked after, cared for, started once in a while – so that it would still run when I got back from BC – and on the way there the water pump decided it was no more for this world and the engine overheated and I perhaps cooked my engine. I still don’t know. I left it in the hands of a friend and we’ll see in five months whether I have a car or am in the market.
I do appreciate the bitter irony of the car situation.
The actual trip to BC was made without incident. We drove through the mountains with snow and rain and sun each taking their turn. We didn’t see any animals much to my disappointment. I did see birds – a Great Blue Heron, a few hawks and some ducks of various breeds – but no animals that run on all fours. Unless you count squirrels, in which case I saw one.
The hotel we stayed in was small and much, much dirtier than the images on their website led me to believe. I walked in and said, “I have a reservation.” The woman at the desk said, “You have a reservation? Here?” She sounded so surprised. I knew right then that things were going to be a bit squibby. When she looked down at her papers and called me by name, it clinched it. Obviously the place is not a well-used hotel, as the three vehicles in the parking lot implied. (One of them was ours.) We watched some television and went to bed.
The rest of the trip was also without incident. We ate breakfast in a place that had no fruit on the menu which normally I wouldn’t have noticed but I really wanted French toast with fruit that morning (damn); we commented on the remote farmhouses and ranches and wondered who in their right mind wanted to live out there all year round? Or at all? We kept a sharp eye out for the turn Google Maps had told us about – but when we got to Prince George we realized that the road didn’t exist. (I have since learned that Google Maps was directing us to a road built in the 1860’s which is no longer in use if it even still exists.) In Prince George the highway was being used as a parking lot and we had to drive carefully to avoid hitting mirrors. I have no idea what was going on but apparently it was a big deal, as everyone in town was there. With their dog and their dog’s car.
We explored Quesnel briefly and then went to Wells. The road was long and curvy but we made it there in one piece and found the house we are staying in – the yellow house next to the even yellower community centre. It was indeed easy to spot, as we had been told it would be. We met our roommate, Tim, who is a nice guy and reminded both S. and I of someone we know. It took us almost the entire evening to figure out who – the art teacher from our Certificate year! I don’t think he sleeps much, as we’re always in bed before him and he’s always up before us. When we wake up at night he’s either not home or he’s up eating or drinking coffee. I don’t understand it but that’s just because I like to sleep 10 hours or more a night.
The snow here. Wow. The snow! When we got here it was piled up against buildings, laying in thick white blankets on the baseball diamond – six to ten feet near the house and probably four out in the open. I wish I’d taken pictures as now, after a week or so of sun and (mostly) rain it has shrunk considerably. (Near some buildings it was piled up to the eaves!) It was cold our first few days of work.
We got costumes after a few days, which actually made it warmer. A corset holds in a considerable amount of heat and the dresses hide all the civvies I care to wear underneath them. On the coldest day I was wearing two pairs of socks, long johns, jeans, two shirts, a corset (as well as the necessary modern underwear), a heavy petticoat, my green dress, a scarf, gloves, a wig (to keep my ears warm), a hat, rubber boots and a thick woollen cape.
It was warmer today so I wore my blue dress. I like it quite a bit. It has a lace collar and cuffs and a lacy bustle as well. Those women in the 1870’s sure liked their bustles. Not to sound vain, but I look good in period costumes. A part of me wants to wear those kinds of clothes all the time, except for how sore my back and shoulders get. They’re heavy and really, I couldn’t wear a corset all the time. I like being able to tie my shoes and lean back on chairs and snuggle up on a sofa with a book, all rendered impossible with a properly fitted corset.
However, I was not the only person who thought I looked fine, much to my dismay. Today I collected a follower of the male persuasion, much to the amusement of all my co-workers. I can’t remember his name but apparently he latches on to a different pretty girl each summer and I’m the unhappy target this year. The fact that I have a boyfriend isn’t likely to deter him – one year his object of affection was clearly and obviously married. My boss has had to talk to him before about bothering actors who are working, so if I can’t shake him on my own at least someone will deal with him for me. Actually, my boss gave me and S. permission to kiss – full on French – in front of this guy; this while we are portraying an era where men and women didn’t even touch in public.
Hopefully I won’t need to resort to that.
I’ll try to keep this blog up to date through-out the summer. It’s a bit hard – I have to bring my laptop to the local general store to access the internet and after work it’s the last thing I feel like doing. However, like I said, I’ll do my best.
I do appreciate the bitter irony of the car situation.
The actual trip to BC was made without incident. We drove through the mountains with snow and rain and sun each taking their turn. We didn’t see any animals much to my disappointment. I did see birds – a Great Blue Heron, a few hawks and some ducks of various breeds – but no animals that run on all fours. Unless you count squirrels, in which case I saw one.
The hotel we stayed in was small and much, much dirtier than the images on their website led me to believe. I walked in and said, “I have a reservation.” The woman at the desk said, “You have a reservation? Here?” She sounded so surprised. I knew right then that things were going to be a bit squibby. When she looked down at her papers and called me by name, it clinched it. Obviously the place is not a well-used hotel, as the three vehicles in the parking lot implied. (One of them was ours.) We watched some television and went to bed.
The rest of the trip was also without incident. We ate breakfast in a place that had no fruit on the menu which normally I wouldn’t have noticed but I really wanted French toast with fruit that morning (damn); we commented on the remote farmhouses and ranches and wondered who in their right mind wanted to live out there all year round? Or at all? We kept a sharp eye out for the turn Google Maps had told us about – but when we got to Prince George we realized that the road didn’t exist. (I have since learned that Google Maps was directing us to a road built in the 1860’s which is no longer in use if it even still exists.) In Prince George the highway was being used as a parking lot and we had to drive carefully to avoid hitting mirrors. I have no idea what was going on but apparently it was a big deal, as everyone in town was there. With their dog and their dog’s car.
We explored Quesnel briefly and then went to Wells. The road was long and curvy but we made it there in one piece and found the house we are staying in – the yellow house next to the even yellower community centre. It was indeed easy to spot, as we had been told it would be. We met our roommate, Tim, who is a nice guy and reminded both S. and I of someone we know. It took us almost the entire evening to figure out who – the art teacher from our Certificate year! I don’t think he sleeps much, as we’re always in bed before him and he’s always up before us. When we wake up at night he’s either not home or he’s up eating or drinking coffee. I don’t understand it but that’s just because I like to sleep 10 hours or more a night.
The snow here. Wow. The snow! When we got here it was piled up against buildings, laying in thick white blankets on the baseball diamond – six to ten feet near the house and probably four out in the open. I wish I’d taken pictures as now, after a week or so of sun and (mostly) rain it has shrunk considerably. (Near some buildings it was piled up to the eaves!) It was cold our first few days of work.
We got costumes after a few days, which actually made it warmer. A corset holds in a considerable amount of heat and the dresses hide all the civvies I care to wear underneath them. On the coldest day I was wearing two pairs of socks, long johns, jeans, two shirts, a corset (as well as the necessary modern underwear), a heavy petticoat, my green dress, a scarf, gloves, a wig (to keep my ears warm), a hat, rubber boots and a thick woollen cape.
It was warmer today so I wore my blue dress. I like it quite a bit. It has a lace collar and cuffs and a lacy bustle as well. Those women in the 1870’s sure liked their bustles. Not to sound vain, but I look good in period costumes. A part of me wants to wear those kinds of clothes all the time, except for how sore my back and shoulders get. They’re heavy and really, I couldn’t wear a corset all the time. I like being able to tie my shoes and lean back on chairs and snuggle up on a sofa with a book, all rendered impossible with a properly fitted corset.
However, I was not the only person who thought I looked fine, much to my dismay. Today I collected a follower of the male persuasion, much to the amusement of all my co-workers. I can’t remember his name but apparently he latches on to a different pretty girl each summer and I’m the unhappy target this year. The fact that I have a boyfriend isn’t likely to deter him – one year his object of affection was clearly and obviously married. My boss has had to talk to him before about bothering actors who are working, so if I can’t shake him on my own at least someone will deal with him for me. Actually, my boss gave me and S. permission to kiss – full on French – in front of this guy; this while we are portraying an era where men and women didn’t even touch in public.
Hopefully I won’t need to resort to that.
I’ll try to keep this blog up to date through-out the summer. It’s a bit hard – I have to bring my laptop to the local general store to access the internet and after work it’s the last thing I feel like doing. However, like I said, I’ll do my best.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
I'm Not Dead
But I do have limited internet access. I'll be back, I promise - I have blog posts written and waiting for me to get my computer to an internet port. Soon, soon!
Monday, May 04, 2009
Awesomeness
Migraine medication would be awesome if it worked.
Frick.
I have a super-power - the invincible migraine! My last prescription migraine pill, Advil by the (over)dose, Aspirin (even though I'm not supposed to take it), Robaxacet, to relax my tense muscles...all it does is make me sleep really well and wake up to -
a migraine.
Oh well. It'll go away eventually.
I hope.
(Just for the record, I didn't take all those drugs at once. That's, like, two days worth of headache fighting.)
Frick.
I have a super-power - the invincible migraine! My last prescription migraine pill, Advil by the (over)dose, Aspirin (even though I'm not supposed to take it), Robaxacet, to relax my tense muscles...all it does is make me sleep really well and wake up to -
a migraine.
Oh well. It'll go away eventually.
I hope.
(Just for the record, I didn't take all those drugs at once. That's, like, two days worth of headache fighting.)
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Observations
The other day a little girl was looking at books in the front of the store. She turned to tell her mom something and her mom wasn't there. She was looking around but she couldn't see her mom anywhere so I asked her what her mom looked like.
"She has Lulu lemon pants," she said.
That's it. What kind of little girl doesn't tell you what her mom's hair colour is, or what colour she's wearing? Brand names? Really? But that's what she said.
She ended up finding her mom right away after that, thank goodness. Her mom wasn't a very nice woman. She didn't pay any attention to her little girl calling out, "Mommy! Mommy!" at the front of the store and it's not like she couldn't hear her.
I will grant the little girl was a whiny thing, who when they got to the till asked over and over and over, "Mommy can I have a book? Mommy can I have a book?" without even enough time for her mother to answer. Very annoying. When I hear a child do that I immediately assume they are spoiled and used to getting what they want. Otherwise why would they keep asking? But instead of giving her the standard distracted "No" answer, her mother replied with, "No. I know, I'm a terrible mother, not buying you anything. Not giving you what you want," complete with a knowing look to whoever was helping her at the till. (I hate that. It creates violent urges in me.)
Then the little girl switched tactics. Not getting a book? Fine. Bookmarks are smaller, more attainable perhaps. Her mom denied her again with the same phrases...but then she asked if we had Twilight bookmarks. The little girl got so excited - but then the mother just bought one for herself. She was going out of her way to buy the things the little girl wanted for herself. There was a malicious tone to everything she did, directed towards her child. I didn't like her one bit. She was a mean woman who took out her meanness on her little girl because her child was small and powerless. Those are the kind of people I want to punch in the face until they bleed. Copiously.
And then give her little girl to someone who gives a damn and will raise her to be a healthy, functional adult. Because this woman certainly won't.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Family Visit
I had a good weekend. Three days off in a row is always nice, nicer still when I get to see people I love. My mom came down for a few days. We had good conversations and went shopping together - we even took in a theatre show.
It was so nice to see her again. I went from living at my parents to seeing them every four months to now, where I see them every...eight months? Every year? It can be a long time in between visits now that my schedule is no longer ruled by the school semester but by work and all too infrequent holidays. If we lived closer geographically it would be different but alas, this is how life goes sometimes.
I think of my mom, moving away from her family and going years without seeing them. I don't think I could go years. Of course my family will come see me sometimes too so the onus isn't all on me to do the travelling like it was on her. That helps a lot.
The next time I see my family might be this summer. I'm going to Barkerville BC to work for five months. It's a place my family likes to visit so they'll kill two birds with one stone and I'll get to see them again. Except for my youngest brother, who is now beginning to experience the constraint of a working schedule too.
But there's always Christmas. I hope.
It was so nice to see her again. I went from living at my parents to seeing them every four months to now, where I see them every...eight months? Every year? It can be a long time in between visits now that my schedule is no longer ruled by the school semester but by work and all too infrequent holidays. If we lived closer geographically it would be different but alas, this is how life goes sometimes.
I think of my mom, moving away from her family and going years without seeing them. I don't think I could go years. Of course my family will come see me sometimes too so the onus isn't all on me to do the travelling like it was on her. That helps a lot.
The next time I see my family might be this summer. I'm going to Barkerville BC to work for five months. It's a place my family likes to visit so they'll kill two birds with one stone and I'll get to see them again. Except for my youngest brother, who is now beginning to experience the constraint of a working schedule too.
But there's always Christmas. I hope.
Friday, April 24, 2009
It's Been A While...
...but not much is going on.
I had an audition with ATP...I still work at the bookstore...oh, the french guy who gave me his number and then asked me out on a date who I then turned down but then stupidly decided might be friend material is 'still hoping' as my co-worker put it, and worse, still showing up at work to chat aka flirt when I've done everything I can think of (other than freezing him out) to show him I'm not interested...I'm preparing to go to Barkerville BC for the summer...S. opened a show tonight in another city and I really hope it went well...I'm preparing for another audition next week...my mom is coming to visit me tomorrow!
My life in one long paragraph with lots of elipses. I love elipses.
I had an audition with ATP...I still work at the bookstore...oh, the french guy who gave me his number and then asked me out on a date who I then turned down but then stupidly decided might be friend material is 'still hoping' as my co-worker put it, and worse, still showing up at work to chat aka flirt when I've done everything I can think of (other than freezing him out) to show him I'm not interested...I'm preparing to go to Barkerville BC for the summer...S. opened a show tonight in another city and I really hope it went well...I'm preparing for another audition next week...my mom is coming to visit me tomorrow!
My life in one long paragraph with lots of elipses. I love elipses.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Promotion
I have keys to the book store.
That might be a bad idea.
Hopefully there are still books in there tomorrow.
That might be a bad idea.
Hopefully there are still books in there tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Company
I got this from my brother.
A married couple was in a car when the wife turned to her husband and asked, "Would you like to stop for a coffee?"
"No, thanks," he answered truthfully. So they didn't stop.
The wife, who had indeed wanted to stop, became annoyed because she felt her preference had not been considered. The husband, seeing his wife was angry, became frustrated. Why didn't she just say what she wanted?
Unfortunately, he failed to see that his wife was asking the question not to get an instant decision, but to begin a negotiation. And the wife didn't realize that when her husband said no, he was just expressing his preference, not making a ruling. When a man and woman interpret the same interchange in such conflicting ways, it's no wonder they can find themselves leveling angry charges of selfishness and obstinacy at each other.
When I read this, I laughed out loud because it was almost verbatim a conversation S. and I had about a year ago. We figured it out within the half-hour - but it's nice to know we aren't alone in our misunderstandings!
A married couple was in a car when the wife turned to her husband and asked, "Would you like to stop for a coffee?"
"No, thanks," he answered truthfully. So they didn't stop.
The wife, who had indeed wanted to stop, became annoyed because she felt her preference had not been considered. The husband, seeing his wife was angry, became frustrated. Why didn't she just say what she wanted?
Unfortunately, he failed to see that his wife was asking the question not to get an instant decision, but to begin a negotiation. And the wife didn't realize that when her husband said no, he was just expressing his preference, not making a ruling. When a man and woman interpret the same interchange in such conflicting ways, it's no wonder they can find themselves leveling angry charges of selfishness and obstinacy at each other.
When I read this, I laughed out loud because it was almost verbatim a conversation S. and I had about a year ago. We figured it out within the half-hour - but it's nice to know we aren't alone in our misunderstandings!
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Random Thoughts from a Migraining Brain
I have specific rituals that help me deal with a migraine. I take drugs with coke, I perhaps eat corn chips with salsa, and I lay in bed in the dark, listening to CBC radio while I zone in and out of consciousness until I feel better and can function again. I have been in bed for something like 16 hours now, and I feel a little better but not enough to get up and do anything. I'm a little surprised I'm writing on a computer actually. It goes against all of my migraine patterns and it isn't helping me at all.
It's so hot in the apartment. I can't handle it. I turned down the heat to 15 and it's still hot in here. Damn heat malfunction. I want to stand out on the balcony in my pajamas but I'm not sure what the bylaws are on that sort of thing. I'll settle for opening my bedroom window and letting the cold air soothe my overheated brain.
Apparently St. John New Brunswick is the happiest place in Canada. The people have various reasons. One guy said it was because people were friendly. One 17 year old said there was nothing to do. He wanted to go to Calgary, but couldn't leave his girlfriend. "She's having my kid," he said. Is he scared? No. He's so happy about it, about giving that kid the life he never had. Weird, but he sounded happy anyway, even if he was bored with St. John.
One old guy said the key to a long, happy life was sex and lots of it. Maybe that's why the 17 year old was so happy sounding.
Yesterday they talked about a study on cheating, and how when they asked people to recount the 10 commandments and then gave them chances to cheat or steal, they didn't. Even if they couldn't remember any of the commandments. And that when you are one step away from actual money, you are more likely to steal. What would you take from work? A pencil, or 10 cents from the till? The pencil! And when they made people aware of the monetary value of objects in the office, theft went down. And that giving people huge bonuses makes them less efficient at their work because they spend time being stressed out at the thought of losing the bonus instead of spending time thinking about how to do their job. It was fascinating but I can't remember the name of the study author now.
My computer is literally falling apart - the tiny screws in the bottom are falling out. I wonder why. And why is it hot to the touch? Does that have anything to do with the fact that the battery is unrecognizable to the system? Should I take the battery out? I have no idea. What I don't know about computers could fill a warehouse. Although they are making a quantum computer that can hold way more information than the computers we have now. I do know that, thanks to Quirks and Quarks.
I feel high. Drugs kicking in but I'm still unable to function at a normal level.
I have no more random thoughts. I think I'm going to go back to sleep until my brain is normal again - well, that could take eternity. Until it's back to my normal, at least.
It's so hot in the apartment. I can't handle it. I turned down the heat to 15 and it's still hot in here. Damn heat malfunction. I want to stand out on the balcony in my pajamas but I'm not sure what the bylaws are on that sort of thing. I'll settle for opening my bedroom window and letting the cold air soothe my overheated brain.
Apparently St. John New Brunswick is the happiest place in Canada. The people have various reasons. One guy said it was because people were friendly. One 17 year old said there was nothing to do. He wanted to go to Calgary, but couldn't leave his girlfriend. "She's having my kid," he said. Is he scared? No. He's so happy about it, about giving that kid the life he never had. Weird, but he sounded happy anyway, even if he was bored with St. John.
One old guy said the key to a long, happy life was sex and lots of it. Maybe that's why the 17 year old was so happy sounding.
Yesterday they talked about a study on cheating, and how when they asked people to recount the 10 commandments and then gave them chances to cheat or steal, they didn't. Even if they couldn't remember any of the commandments. And that when you are one step away from actual money, you are more likely to steal. What would you take from work? A pencil, or 10 cents from the till? The pencil! And when they made people aware of the monetary value of objects in the office, theft went down. And that giving people huge bonuses makes them less efficient at their work because they spend time being stressed out at the thought of losing the bonus instead of spending time thinking about how to do their job. It was fascinating but I can't remember the name of the study author now.
My computer is literally falling apart - the tiny screws in the bottom are falling out. I wonder why. And why is it hot to the touch? Does that have anything to do with the fact that the battery is unrecognizable to the system? Should I take the battery out? I have no idea. What I don't know about computers could fill a warehouse. Although they are making a quantum computer that can hold way more information than the computers we have now. I do know that, thanks to Quirks and Quarks.
I feel high. Drugs kicking in but I'm still unable to function at a normal level.
I have no more random thoughts. I think I'm going to go back to sleep until my brain is normal again - well, that could take eternity. Until it's back to my normal, at least.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Another Pet Peeve
I hate it when people interrupt me while I'm helping one customer in order to ask for help themselves.
What am I supposed to do? I'm already busy. Legitimately helping someone, doing my job - I wish I could point out how rude they're being but I can't. Although today I came really close. Some guy, who had already interrupted me once - when I was mid sentence, I kid you not - then proceded to yell at me from across the store, asking "Is there anyone who will help me with this?" He was very impatient. And rude. And I was the only one he could see, and we were all busy with other people.
So I said, as he turned away, "Can you not see I'm busy with someone?" and felt bad instantly only because my customer was so nice and I hated to expose my frustration in front of her. Oh well. Guess what, I'm human too, customer. And idiots annoy me.
At least there were no Children of the Exorcism today.
What am I supposed to do? I'm already busy. Legitimately helping someone, doing my job - I wish I could point out how rude they're being but I can't. Although today I came really close. Some guy, who had already interrupted me once - when I was mid sentence, I kid you not - then proceded to yell at me from across the store, asking "Is there anyone who will help me with this?" He was very impatient. And rude. And I was the only one he could see, and we were all busy with other people.
So I said, as he turned away, "Can you not see I'm busy with someone?" and felt bad instantly only because my customer was so nice and I hated to expose my frustration in front of her. Oh well. Guess what, I'm human too, customer. And idiots annoy me.
At least there were no Children of the Exorcism today.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
I Love the Smell of Commerce in the Morning
Today a small child screamed like she was possessed by the devil. Like "Exorcism" screaming, all gravelly. It was impressive. Over and over - "My book! My book!" were the only discernable words. Her mother was trying to buy the book for her but she wouldn't let go long enough for it to be scanned at the till. So her mother took her out of the store, and then when it became apparent she wasn't going to stop, her mother took her away. Her screams eventually stopped - but only because she was out of earshot. After they left, we clerks were the only ones in the store, so we chatted about Devil Girl and her mother, and our childhoods and our parents.
Later a man barged into the 'staff only' area, made a beeline for our bathroom and started using it without shutting the door first. How did he even know there was a bathroom back there? It's not advertised and we don't tell customers about it, much less let them use it. We quickly realized he wasn't quite all there, so at least he wasn't a creep who wanted to expose himself to the Coles girls. But still. It was...surreal. And then he left the store without saying a word.
Just to round things out, the fire alarm in the mall went off twice. It's loud. We have an alarm in our ceiling and it flashes a blue light as it beeps. Beeps is too kind a word. As it shrieks on par with Devil Girl it blinks a calm blue light. If that's for deaf people they get the better end of the deal. Except if I were deaf, I wouldn't realize that meant fire. It's too calm and blue.
That's been my day. The things I would tell S. about if he were here. Sigh.
Later a man barged into the 'staff only' area, made a beeline for our bathroom and started using it without shutting the door first. How did he even know there was a bathroom back there? It's not advertised and we don't tell customers about it, much less let them use it. We quickly realized he wasn't quite all there, so at least he wasn't a creep who wanted to expose himself to the Coles girls. But still. It was...surreal. And then he left the store without saying a word.
Just to round things out, the fire alarm in the mall went off twice. It's loud. We have an alarm in our ceiling and it flashes a blue light as it beeps. Beeps is too kind a word. As it shrieks on par with Devil Girl it blinks a calm blue light. If that's for deaf people they get the better end of the deal. Except if I were deaf, I wouldn't realize that meant fire. It's too calm and blue.
That's been my day. The things I would tell S. about if he were here. Sigh.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Thoughts I Repressed Today
"Telling me the title over and over will not help me find the book, so SHUT UP ALREADY."
"If this computer says we don't have it, the other computer won't give us a different answer!"
"Why are you here?"
"Why didn't you follow me - do you think the book will just hover over to you?"
"How am I supposed to find a book based on, 'it's got a silver cover'?"
"Are you buying this book or not? And if so, will you please come back to the till, you moron?"
"Did you not hear what I just asked you?"
(That last one I think almost every day with more and more irritation. Why? Because I am developing a new pet peeve. I'll ask a customer, "Can I help you?" and they'll say, "Yes, I'm fine," and walk away as fast as they can. Did they not hear what I asked? Do they think I'll pressure them into buying Twilight? God Almighty, it makes me want to punch them in the face. It's not like they don't speak English. The ones that don't speak English usually just smile and nod, or say, "Browsing!" like it's a magic word that will protect them from pushy sales clerks. But I don't get a commission from selling books. All it does is give me something to do.)
On a side note, today I actually chased a woman away from the store. All it took was a "Are you finding everything okay?" and she nodded and barely had time to say, "I'm fine thank you" before she was out the door and gone.
I don't understand.
Maybe on my last day I'll say what I'm thinking - but I say that about every job and I never do it. Too polite and professional I guess. Too used to repressing my real thoughts and showing a happy smiling face to a world that doesn't bother to look beneath the surface.
I'm not sure why my thoughts are so dark. I started out the day happily enough. I had way more happy customers than unhappy ones. I had a fairly uneventful benign day at work. And yet I'm just frustrated and fed up with not living the life I want. Not paying my bills with my writing. Not getting paid to tell stories in one form or another.
I enjoy working with books all day.
But I really don't want to do this forever, and every job I get that isn't what I want for my life wears on me quicker and quicker.
Maybe that was the one thought I should have repressed today - just for the sake of my short term happiness.
And maybe it's the one thought I should be most aware of.
"If this computer says we don't have it, the other computer won't give us a different answer!"
"Why are you here?"
"Why didn't you follow me - do you think the book will just hover over to you?"
"How am I supposed to find a book based on, 'it's got a silver cover'?"
"Are you buying this book or not? And if so, will you please come back to the till, you moron?"
"Did you not hear what I just asked you?"
(That last one I think almost every day with more and more irritation. Why? Because I am developing a new pet peeve. I'll ask a customer, "Can I help you?" and they'll say, "Yes, I'm fine," and walk away as fast as they can. Did they not hear what I asked? Do they think I'll pressure them into buying Twilight? God Almighty, it makes me want to punch them in the face. It's not like they don't speak English. The ones that don't speak English usually just smile and nod, or say, "Browsing!" like it's a magic word that will protect them from pushy sales clerks. But I don't get a commission from selling books. All it does is give me something to do.)
On a side note, today I actually chased a woman away from the store. All it took was a "Are you finding everything okay?" and she nodded and barely had time to say, "I'm fine thank you" before she was out the door and gone.
I don't understand.
Maybe on my last day I'll say what I'm thinking - but I say that about every job and I never do it. Too polite and professional I guess. Too used to repressing my real thoughts and showing a happy smiling face to a world that doesn't bother to look beneath the surface.
I'm not sure why my thoughts are so dark. I started out the day happily enough. I had way more happy customers than unhappy ones. I had a fairly uneventful benign day at work. And yet I'm just frustrated and fed up with not living the life I want. Not paying my bills with my writing. Not getting paid to tell stories in one form or another.
I enjoy working with books all day.
But I really don't want to do this forever, and every job I get that isn't what I want for my life wears on me quicker and quicker.
Maybe that was the one thought I should have repressed today - just for the sake of my short term happiness.
And maybe it's the one thought I should be most aware of.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Things I've Seen
I saw a small Asian boy smiling like Buddah would smile if he were a baby with no cares in the world, as he was pushed through the mall in his stroller. He only stopped smiling when he saw me watching him, even though I was smiling at him. I wonder why. Then he went back to his own little world and the look of pure contentment came back.
I want to look that content while I go my way through the world.
Today I was met by my boss without a smile, not even in her voice. I think now that she must have had a stressed morning but this morning I took it personally and the first hour or two of my day were terrible. I wanted to quit. I wanted to throw books at stupid people. I wanted to gouge the eyes out of wailing children. And then I realized that my boss has always greeted me with a smile and a friendly word and that there was nothing I could have done in the first thirty seconds of my day to make her upset, so it must be from a cause outside myself. I am very egocentric. I must be two years old. That must be why I look so young. ;) Although if I keep taking everything personally it will age me before my time.
I was told by an older man that I was wise beyond my years. He doesn't know me, so he doesn't know all my faults - that I have the ego of a toddler. We talked about the school system and the lack of balance therein. He teaches shop, and the troubled kids 'get better' in his class because instead of trying to build with letters and numbers and failing, they build with their hands and succeed. The school wants him to take his counselling degree but he doesn't want to because he cannot counsel out of the context of his class. Or he doesn't think so. He was so easy to talk to. He said not many people believed in the need for balance. That's why he thinks I'm so wise. Because I know that balance is a need, even if I can't acheive it myself. He asked how I got so wise and I said I'd just always been a thinker. He said him too. He'd always stood on the edge and watched others, and half-wanted to get involved but holding back because most of the stuff others were doing looked so damn stupid. I added the damn. It's the first time I've met someone who put in words what I've lived my whole life. It was exhilerating and sad. I don't know why it was sad. Perhaps because I know that there is a cost to being the watcher and I'm not sure I want to pay it, even if I don't know any other way to be.
He seemed happy. He said if I ever had time and saw him around the mall, we should go for coffee.
It made me wonder why the only guys who ask me out for coffee are either older than me by decades, or younger than me and socially awkward. Even though he didn't ask me out on a date. It didn't feel like that, anyway. More like he enjoyed our conversation as much as I did and would like to chat with me again sometime. That I wouldn't mind.
Now I'm down because I'm an observer. Like Britney says, there are two types of people in this world. The ones that entertain, and the ones who observe.
Who would have thought wisdom could come from pop stars. But if it can come from the mouths of babes, perhaps it can come from anywhere.
I want to look that content while I go my way through the world.
Today I was met by my boss without a smile, not even in her voice. I think now that she must have had a stressed morning but this morning I took it personally and the first hour or two of my day were terrible. I wanted to quit. I wanted to throw books at stupid people. I wanted to gouge the eyes out of wailing children. And then I realized that my boss has always greeted me with a smile and a friendly word and that there was nothing I could have done in the first thirty seconds of my day to make her upset, so it must be from a cause outside myself. I am very egocentric. I must be two years old. That must be why I look so young. ;) Although if I keep taking everything personally it will age me before my time.
I was told by an older man that I was wise beyond my years. He doesn't know me, so he doesn't know all my faults - that I have the ego of a toddler. We talked about the school system and the lack of balance therein. He teaches shop, and the troubled kids 'get better' in his class because instead of trying to build with letters and numbers and failing, they build with their hands and succeed. The school wants him to take his counselling degree but he doesn't want to because he cannot counsel out of the context of his class. Or he doesn't think so. He was so easy to talk to. He said not many people believed in the need for balance. That's why he thinks I'm so wise. Because I know that balance is a need, even if I can't acheive it myself. He asked how I got so wise and I said I'd just always been a thinker. He said him too. He'd always stood on the edge and watched others, and half-wanted to get involved but holding back because most of the stuff others were doing looked so damn stupid. I added the damn. It's the first time I've met someone who put in words what I've lived my whole life. It was exhilerating and sad. I don't know why it was sad. Perhaps because I know that there is a cost to being the watcher and I'm not sure I want to pay it, even if I don't know any other way to be.
He seemed happy. He said if I ever had time and saw him around the mall, we should go for coffee.
It made me wonder why the only guys who ask me out for coffee are either older than me by decades, or younger than me and socially awkward. Even though he didn't ask me out on a date. It didn't feel like that, anyway. More like he enjoyed our conversation as much as I did and would like to chat with me again sometime. That I wouldn't mind.
Now I'm down because I'm an observer. Like Britney says, there are two types of people in this world. The ones that entertain, and the ones who observe.
Who would have thought wisdom could come from pop stars. But if it can come from the mouths of babes, perhaps it can come from anywhere.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Good Fences
"Good fences make good neighbours."
Our upstairs neighbour is not a quiet man. He's either blowing his nose or he has a baby elephant up there. (Maybe that's what happened to the baby elephant at the zoo.) He gets up and stomps around at 5 in the morning on a regular basis. (I've even been woken up by a string of swear words, cause unknown. Not the best way to face the world in the early morn.) He spends his weekends listening to truly terrible music late into the night, as though unaware that there are other people who have to work on weekends (every weekend, thanks boss...) and need to get to sleep at a reasonable hour - not one in the morning. And he cheers for the Flames. Which is bad enough on its own. And he cheers loudly. With a lot of swear words.
The guy downstairs is either dying of lung cancer...or he's just got a really terrible cough.
I wonder if they secretly want to stomp on the floor to shut us up, but I really doubt it. We're pretty quiet people, S. and I.
Good fences?
I think good walls make good neighbours.
Our upstairs neighbour is not a quiet man. He's either blowing his nose or he has a baby elephant up there. (Maybe that's what happened to the baby elephant at the zoo.) He gets up and stomps around at 5 in the morning on a regular basis. (I've even been woken up by a string of swear words, cause unknown. Not the best way to face the world in the early morn.) He spends his weekends listening to truly terrible music late into the night, as though unaware that there are other people who have to work on weekends (every weekend, thanks boss...) and need to get to sleep at a reasonable hour - not one in the morning. And he cheers for the Flames. Which is bad enough on its own. And he cheers loudly. With a lot of swear words.
The guy downstairs is either dying of lung cancer...or he's just got a really terrible cough.
I wonder if they secretly want to stomp on the floor to shut us up, but I really doubt it. We're pretty quiet people, S. and I.
Good fences?
I think good walls make good neighbours.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Advice on the Radio
I wake up in the morning to CBC Radio. A good way to get a clue about the outside world, a bad way to remember dreams - they fade in the blur of murders and the many varied tragedies that are deemed important for me to know about.
This morning, although I don't remember what happened on the news (except for a school shooting in Germany), I did lay in bed and listen to half an hour of Q. They were going to interview some Monty Python people but couldn't get ahold of them, so instead they aired an interview they had already done with David Sedaris.
Working in a book store (which I may not be for much longer but that's another story) I see books and authors all around me every day that I was previously unaware of. David Sedaris is one of those authors. He's in the humour section. Guys are the ones who pick up his books so I had relegated him to a pile in my mind labled, not interesting.
What a mistake that was. The interview was fascinating. He's a morbid guy. Morbid and funny and all he does is observe the world around him. And when he writes about his friends and family, which he does a lot, he always clears it by them first. Gets them to read it and tell him if there's anything they want him to change. Why? Because he values his relationships over his writing. What he's going to share with the world, he clears with the ones he loves first.
That level of respect impressed me greatly.
I don't think I've done a very good job of doing that. So now I'm going to start.
It doesn't cramp my creativity. I write what I want and no-one stops me. But if I'm going to share that writing with the world? There is a fall out from that, and it had better be one that I, and those who are important to me, can live with.
Thank you, David Sedaris. You will probably never read this (unless you have that Google thing that lets you know anytime someone writes your name online) but thank you anyway.
This morning, although I don't remember what happened on the news (except for a school shooting in Germany), I did lay in bed and listen to half an hour of Q. They were going to interview some Monty Python people but couldn't get ahold of them, so instead they aired an interview they had already done with David Sedaris.
Working in a book store (which I may not be for much longer but that's another story) I see books and authors all around me every day that I was previously unaware of. David Sedaris is one of those authors. He's in the humour section. Guys are the ones who pick up his books so I had relegated him to a pile in my mind labled, not interesting.
What a mistake that was. The interview was fascinating. He's a morbid guy. Morbid and funny and all he does is observe the world around him. And when he writes about his friends and family, which he does a lot, he always clears it by them first. Gets them to read it and tell him if there's anything they want him to change. Why? Because he values his relationships over his writing. What he's going to share with the world, he clears with the ones he loves first.
That level of respect impressed me greatly.
I don't think I've done a very good job of doing that. So now I'm going to start.
It doesn't cramp my creativity. I write what I want and no-one stops me. But if I'm going to share that writing with the world? There is a fall out from that, and it had better be one that I, and those who are important to me, can live with.
Thank you, David Sedaris. You will probably never read this (unless you have that Google thing that lets you know anytime someone writes your name online) but thank you anyway.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
No Shame
I have no shame. When I’m at work and I know a man is interested in me and not the books, I walk the very thin, precarious line of flirtation to see if I can make him buy something.
I have a pretty good record so far. Hurrah for the retail world. Just doing my part to stimulate…the economy.
And yesterday I got a phone number out of the deal.
Too bad I’m a) not single and b) 15 years younger than him.
At least he was good looking. He was from Montreal and has a steady job as a flight attendant for West Jet. When I said I’d thought about trying to get hired on there he said he could get me a job.
That was why he gave me his number…or at least the pretence.
I’m not sure whether I can follow up because I don’t know for sure that he had no ulterior motives. He was flirting pretty heavy by the time he gave me his number. At least, most guys don’t say they’re good marriage material in regular conversation.
Oh well. It’s not like I can work for West Jet right now anyways. I’m going to BC for the summer to work as a street performer. Maybe when I come back. If I have no acting work.
We’ll see.
I have a pretty good record so far. Hurrah for the retail world. Just doing my part to stimulate…the economy.
And yesterday I got a phone number out of the deal.
Too bad I’m a) not single and b) 15 years younger than him.
At least he was good looking. He was from Montreal and has a steady job as a flight attendant for West Jet. When I said I’d thought about trying to get hired on there he said he could get me a job.
That was why he gave me his number…or at least the pretence.
I’m not sure whether I can follow up because I don’t know for sure that he had no ulterior motives. He was flirting pretty heavy by the time he gave me his number. At least, most guys don’t say they’re good marriage material in regular conversation.
Oh well. It’s not like I can work for West Jet right now anyways. I’m going to BC for the summer to work as a street performer. Maybe when I come back. If I have no acting work.
We’ll see.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Laughing
In the previous post I wrote that God was laughing at me.
I think I might be laughing along with now. Sheepishly, but laughing.
As Hope mentioned in her comment - free will and choice, not either/or. It's true. It's annoying sometimes but it's true.
And maybe that's what sparks the laughter. Realizing that I'm basically throwning a tantrum. I'm 25 now - I thought tantrums were supposed to be in my distant past?
Apparently not. So I'll go from banging my heels and screeching to ROTFL instead.
I think I might be laughing along with now. Sheepishly, but laughing.
As Hope mentioned in her comment - free will and choice, not either/or. It's true. It's annoying sometimes but it's true.
And maybe that's what sparks the laughter. Realizing that I'm basically throwning a tantrum. I'm 25 now - I thought tantrums were supposed to be in my distant past?
Apparently not. So I'll go from banging my heels and screeching to ROTFL instead.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Choices, Always Choices
I hate change. I like having security - a steady job, a steady (if small) paycheque, a steady path layed out in front of me...to the grave...
If I am honest with myself I know that the steady path also bores me. The thought of spending my life that way fills me with a greater fear - that I will die unfulfilled because I chose to. Because I chose the easy, safe path.
Fuck!
I hate having to make choices where there is no right answer. Why can't God actually give me direction instead of free will and the ability to choose what I will do?
He drives me nuts.
I'm not sure I'd have it any other way. Difficult human that I am, I would rebel against any path set in front of me unless I set it there myself.
Well, fuck.
Back to square one, and somewhere, God is laughing at me. I know it.
If I am honest with myself I know that the steady path also bores me. The thought of spending my life that way fills me with a greater fear - that I will die unfulfilled because I chose to. Because I chose the easy, safe path.
Fuck!
I hate having to make choices where there is no right answer. Why can't God actually give me direction instead of free will and the ability to choose what I will do?
He drives me nuts.
I'm not sure I'd have it any other way. Difficult human that I am, I would rebel against any path set in front of me unless I set it there myself.
Well, fuck.
Back to square one, and somewhere, God is laughing at me. I know it.
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