I messed up and looked at Facebook today. :(
IN MY DEFENSE... There was a Twitter link to something and I clicked on it and ta-dah! I was on Facebook unintentionally.
And then I compounded it by clicking on my "Pending Friend Requests" and I saw that an old friend of mine who had sworn UP DOWN & SIDEWAYS that she would never join the plebian ranks of those on Facebook had finally joined Facebook. :)
Just in time for me to take a break for Lent. How deliciously ironic.
But, I am getting school work done. My house is marginally better than it was, although I fear that all day tomorrow I'll be cleaning. Without children as they are all at school for Fantastic Friday. (I think they call it that because all the moms are walking away from Kindergarten going, "Fantastic!!! A WHOLE day to myself!")
Thought I'd document the slip up.
It's been harder than I thought it would be to cut out Facebook. I was/am so dependent on it for socialization. Makes me feel all lonely and alone not being on there.
:(
Thursday, 10 March 2011
Funny bit out of my textbook...
Yes, this is HONESTLY in my textbook. It's in the chapter of "The Electronic Library" discussing the Net and how it has no classification standards whatsoever. There is a quote, "On the Internet, truth needn't take precedence over humor" and this is the story that they use to make that point:
This is from Ton Kuntz from the article, "The Information Age is Here. Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" from The New York Times from July 3, 1998. This is the story of an "actual radio conversation between a U.S. naval ship and Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland.
Canadians: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Americans: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid a collision.
Canadians: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Americans: This is the Captain of a U.S. Navy Ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.
Canadians: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course.
Americans: This is the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Lincoln, the second-largest ship in the United States' Atlantic fleet. We are accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers and numerous support vessels. I demand that you change your course 15 degrees north. I say again that's one five degrees north, or counter-measure will be undertaken to ensure the safety of this ship.
Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call.
Now, it's stuff like THAT that make me chuckle, and you KNOW I'll remember it for a long time. But do you think I can learn all these different givens and wanted descriptors and the different categories of tools to search for reference interviews? Dear Lord, help me!!
This is from Ton Kuntz from the article, "The Information Age is Here. Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" from The New York Times from July 3, 1998. This is the story of an "actual radio conversation between a U.S. naval ship and Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland.
Canadians: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Americans: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid a collision.
Canadians: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Americans: This is the Captain of a U.S. Navy Ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.
Canadians: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course.
Americans: This is the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Lincoln, the second-largest ship in the United States' Atlantic fleet. We are accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers and numerous support vessels. I demand that you change your course 15 degrees north. I say again that's one five degrees north, or counter-measure will be undertaken to ensure the safety of this ship.
Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call.
Now, it's stuff like THAT that make me chuckle, and you KNOW I'll remember it for a long time. But do you think I can learn all these different givens and wanted descriptors and the different categories of tools to search for reference interviews? Dear Lord, help me!!
Tuesday, 8 March 2011
The Lenten Season
Sometimes it truly sucks to be able to discern the voice of the Lord.
Like, it totally sucks.
I have had it on my heart since about January to observe the Lenten season this year. And Lord knows I've tried to shake it off... But it keeps getting impressed upon my heart to observe it.
And no. I am not Catholic in any way, shape or form.
I'm what you would call a Christian. I am not too weird (at least to my brain I'm not weird), and I know some hymns. Don't remember the last time I sang hymns at church, but I know some at least.
So. Yes. Lent.
A period of reflection where you purposely die to self in order that you may gain spiritual riches.
A period of time where we give up trifling things in remembrance of the not-so-trifling things that Jesus gave up for us.
A period of 40 days where we spiritually echo Jesus' 40 days in the desert after being tempted by Satan.
And guess what God wants me to give up this year.
Facebook.
When I told my darling hubby what I was feeling the Lord tell me, he just laughed and laughed. Then he said, "Usually, if giving up one particular thing is what you're least wanting to do, then that's exactly what you should be doing. (but you knew that =P)"
Darn. Why is he SO right all the time ?????
So this is my journey of self-denial. I don't really have any high hopes for what God's going to say to me during this time. I'm not going to be all mystic-y or anything... I'm hoping that I can burn through my school course in the next 40 days and get that bad boy accomplished and DONE. It feels so good to put a little check mark next to a course....
Lent.
Sunday, 5 December 2010
Pets.
I have 2 cats who are sisters (they are orange tabbies) and I have a Gordon Setter dog.
My cats are named Bella & Toffee, and the dog's name is Katy.
Now, my kitties DEARLY love to play the game "Let's Attack Each Other And Try To Look Really Mean While We Do It And Then 10 Minutes Later We'll Groom Each Other's Ears Like Nothing Happened". So they pounce on each other and chase each other and seem to have a lot of fun.
But neither of them give the memo to Katy.
Which is where it gets funny.
So Bella & Toffee get to the part of the program where they are biting each other and mock clawing each other, and Katy stands a few feet away with the most concerned look on her face like, "What are you two crazy felines doing??? Where is the LOVE??? It's the season for family, not strife! Let's make up!!".
Then, when they are all done their playing, they saunter over to Katy as if to flaunt that while yes, they were fighting, they are okay now, and she worriedly smells them all over to make sure they don't have any undiagnosed owwies or any fur out of place.
So, she licks them as if to give them a benediction (a doggy benediction, LOL), and then the kitties retreat to some part of furniture to rearrange what damage Katy's tongue has wreaked.
And it's all over until tomorrow.
My cats are named Bella & Toffee, and the dog's name is Katy.
Now, my kitties DEARLY love to play the game "Let's Attack Each Other And Try To Look Really Mean While We Do It And Then 10 Minutes Later We'll Groom Each Other's Ears Like Nothing Happened". So they pounce on each other and chase each other and seem to have a lot of fun.
But neither of them give the memo to Katy.
Which is where it gets funny.
So Bella & Toffee get to the part of the program where they are biting each other and mock clawing each other, and Katy stands a few feet away with the most concerned look on her face like, "What are you two crazy felines doing??? Where is the LOVE??? It's the season for family, not strife! Let's make up!!".
Then, when they are all done their playing, they saunter over to Katy as if to flaunt that while yes, they were fighting, they are okay now, and she worriedly smells them all over to make sure they don't have any undiagnosed owwies or any fur out of place.
So, she licks them as if to give them a benediction (a doggy benediction, LOL), and then the kitties retreat to some part of furniture to rearrange what damage Katy's tongue has wreaked.
And it's all over until tomorrow.
Monday, 15 November 2010
What a stress filled day....
Today I had to do something that I dreaded.
I had to go into the Polytechnique where I take my Distance Education course through, and I had to tour their library.
I was so nervous.
(I really wish I could draw cute little drawings right here... Just saying.)
So. I packed up my 5 year old, and all the snackies I could lay hands on for him, and I packed up his sister's Nintendo DS, and we drove into the Big City. (Which is no small thing... It took me about 40 minutes to get there)
We got to the school, and I was already stressing out... I could feel my heart pounding a mile a minute, and my feet and hands were blocks of ice. (I had the van heater directed AT MY FEET and they were still completely cold in my shoes, that's how nervous I was!)
So. We get to the school, and I'm driving to the parkade (I hate parkades. Big anxiety thing for me). I park, and we start walking. (Because hellloooo.... Parkades make me stressed, so I park where there's lots of parking. Which is normally at the back corner furthest from the exit.) We walk and walk, and then we walk up the parkade stairs and emerge into the sunlight of the outdoors.
Now, I wish I could say that there was this magical sniffy thing that waved a magic wand and poofed my fears away but I'd be totally lying. And while it's my perogative to write whatever the heck I want on here, I'd like to stay as close to the truth as possible.
So. As I was saying. Walked up into the open.
And looked around.
I couldn't find the Library.
That was the ONLY PLACE I NEEDED TO GO on that god-forsaken campus. The LIBRARY. How freaking hard is it to lose the Library, for heaven's sake????
Walked around. Looked like a complete and utter dork, I'm sure.
Finally, found the library.
Maybe God WAS smiling on me, after all!
Walk around and try not to look like a local yokel as I stare amazed at what the library looks like.
Tour around - upstairs and downstairs and peruse the collection. (I've only ever used the online library before as I tend to do my schoolwork in my pajamas or at the very least, fluffy wool socks, yoga pants and a hideous sweatshirt I stole from my mother-in-law)
Go upstairs again, and sit down, and start doing some of my assignment. Get 5 year old son all situated with a video game, and start writing.
Realize that I have no idea how many staff work at this library.
Try to look it up on the computers, but guess what? Still nervous and forgot ALL my passwords for school. Argh.
Look over and voila! Like a beacon of goodness - a librarian is sitting at the Information Desk.
I think to myself , "The girls I work with are nice. I bet this lady is nice too! I bet I could ask her my question!".
Get son all packed up, and go over to the Information Desk.
I put on a nice smile, and ask, "Excuse me... Are the number of staff members that work here included on the website?"
That was my question. Pretty benign, no?
She looks at me and says all snarkily, "Well, shouldn't YOU have made an appointment to find out information like this???"
I stammer back that I'm a Distance Education student and I just have to tour around the library and that I had to come from out of town to do so.
She looks haughtily at me, "Well, I'm not sure you NEED that information...."
I ask again, "Is that kind of information on the website just so I can be extra anal?"
She ignores me and tries to kiss up to my 5 year old. 'Hi! Did you check out a book from the children's section downstairs?"
To which I say, "I'm not going to borrow a book from here... It's a pain in the rear to return it to here! Besides, we have tons of books from our local library at our house...."
She looked at me and said, "Just get them to return it by an InterLibrary Loan."
In my head, I am saying that there's no way in HELL that I'm going to make my local library incur the fees to send something back like that.
But outwardly, I smile, and say "Thank you for your time."
As I walk out of there with my 5 year old clutching onto my hand, I inwardly call her a bitch.
I wish I would have had the chutzpah to call her on her rudeness right to her face. I COULD have just done a virtual tour of the library, but I wanted to go "that extra mile" and do it in person even though it made me nervous to the extent that I was concerned I was going to have an anxiety attack again.
So thank you, Random Librarian Bitch. Thanks for ruining what could have been an awesome experience. You took a shitty time and made it shittier. I hope you get trampled by elephants with poo on their feet.
And I hope your coworkers give you Midol for Christmas, because you CERTAINLY need it!
And don't kiss up to a kid when you've just been a bitch to the mom. So not classy.
I had to go into the Polytechnique where I take my Distance Education course through, and I had to tour their library.
I was so nervous.
(I really wish I could draw cute little drawings right here... Just saying.)
So. I packed up my 5 year old, and all the snackies I could lay hands on for him, and I packed up his sister's Nintendo DS, and we drove into the Big City. (Which is no small thing... It took me about 40 minutes to get there)
We got to the school, and I was already stressing out... I could feel my heart pounding a mile a minute, and my feet and hands were blocks of ice. (I had the van heater directed AT MY FEET and they were still completely cold in my shoes, that's how nervous I was!)
So. We get to the school, and I'm driving to the parkade (I hate parkades. Big anxiety thing for me). I park, and we start walking. (Because hellloooo.... Parkades make me stressed, so I park where there's lots of parking. Which is normally at the back corner furthest from the exit.) We walk and walk, and then we walk up the parkade stairs and emerge into the sunlight of the outdoors.
Now, I wish I could say that there was this magical sniffy thing that waved a magic wand and poofed my fears away but I'd be totally lying. And while it's my perogative to write whatever the heck I want on here, I'd like to stay as close to the truth as possible.
So. As I was saying. Walked up into the open.
And looked around.
I couldn't find the Library.
That was the ONLY PLACE I NEEDED TO GO on that god-forsaken campus. The LIBRARY. How freaking hard is it to lose the Library, for heaven's sake????
Walked around. Looked like a complete and utter dork, I'm sure.
Finally, found the library.
Maybe God WAS smiling on me, after all!
Walk around and try not to look like a local yokel as I stare amazed at what the library looks like.
Tour around - upstairs and downstairs and peruse the collection. (I've only ever used the online library before as I tend to do my schoolwork in my pajamas or at the very least, fluffy wool socks, yoga pants and a hideous sweatshirt I stole from my mother-in-law)
Go upstairs again, and sit down, and start doing some of my assignment. Get 5 year old son all situated with a video game, and start writing.
Realize that I have no idea how many staff work at this library.
Try to look it up on the computers, but guess what? Still nervous and forgot ALL my passwords for school. Argh.
Look over and voila! Like a beacon of goodness - a librarian is sitting at the Information Desk.
I think to myself , "The girls I work with are nice. I bet this lady is nice too! I bet I could ask her my question!".
Get son all packed up, and go over to the Information Desk.
I put on a nice smile, and ask, "Excuse me... Are the number of staff members that work here included on the website?"
That was my question. Pretty benign, no?
She looks at me and says all snarkily, "Well, shouldn't YOU have made an appointment to find out information like this???"
I stammer back that I'm a Distance Education student and I just have to tour around the library and that I had to come from out of town to do so.
She looks haughtily at me, "Well, I'm not sure you NEED that information...."
I ask again, "Is that kind of information on the website just so I can be extra anal?"
She ignores me and tries to kiss up to my 5 year old. 'Hi! Did you check out a book from the children's section downstairs?"
To which I say, "I'm not going to borrow a book from here... It's a pain in the rear to return it to here! Besides, we have tons of books from our local library at our house...."
She looked at me and said, "Just get them to return it by an InterLibrary Loan."
In my head, I am saying that there's no way in HELL that I'm going to make my local library incur the fees to send something back like that.
But outwardly, I smile, and say "Thank you for your time."
As I walk out of there with my 5 year old clutching onto my hand, I inwardly call her a bitch.
I wish I would have had the chutzpah to call her on her rudeness right to her face. I COULD have just done a virtual tour of the library, but I wanted to go "that extra mile" and do it in person even though it made me nervous to the extent that I was concerned I was going to have an anxiety attack again.
So thank you, Random Librarian Bitch. Thanks for ruining what could have been an awesome experience. You took a shitty time and made it shittier. I hope you get trampled by elephants with poo on their feet.
And I hope your coworkers give you Midol for Christmas, because you CERTAINLY need it!
And don't kiss up to a kid when you've just been a bitch to the mom. So not classy.
Sunday, 24 October 2010
I hate ironing. With a passion.
I'm sure that every person in the world has ONE job that they absolutely hate.
Some people - it's picking up dog poo.
Or cleaning up puke.
Or shoveling the snow off the driveway in wintertime.
Or cleaning bathrooms.
You get my point.
My least favourite thing to do on the planet is ironing.
Yes.
You read that correctly.
I. Hate. Ironing.
I'm sure most irons and ironing boards are quite nice and effective.
I just can't get through a shirt (or God forbid a pair of pants!) without uttering some choice four letter words on how I'd like to send all irons to the deepest part of the ocean, and I'd toss in all things that need to be ironed after them.
I kid you not.
I shop according to the care label that is sewn underneath the label. If it says "Iron on medium heat" I don't buy it. I've even really LIKED shirts that I've tried on, but if it has to be ironed, it's an automatic candidate for the "NO WAY IN HELL AM I EVER BUYING THIS" pile.
My mother used to moan and berate me for my non-ironing ways. "What do you think you're going to do when you're an adult? You can't just wear jeans and tee shirts to work, Cindy!", she'd say.
Of course, I totally bested her in that. At my job, I DO wear jeans and cotton shirts! Ha! I won, Mom!
And when I fell in love, I fell in love with this great guy who was super sensitive, outspoken, and tidy. Who ironed all his stuff, including his jeans. Who never owned a dresser that he actually put CLOTHES in - he hung all of his stuff up in the closet.
Fast forward 13 years. I just finished ironing HIS WORK OUTFITS. I drew the line at using the lint brush, because honestly, if I had to lint brush his clothes on top of ironing them, I'm pretty sure I would have either a) burnt all his clothes on purpose or b) gone stark raving mad.
My blood pressure was already quite high to begin with. I could feel throbbing in my forehead (which is never a good sign).
I ironed all of his clothes.
Hubby was super appreciative but leery of me as I was finishing up. (Not sure what tipped him off.... Maybe the steam/smoke coming out of my ears was a good clue) He tried to make a joke, and to make me laugh, and I skewered him with a Death Glare that we females are famous for.
He quickly fell silent.
I then finished the last sleeve that I was working on, and told him that I loathed ironing.
He seemed to nod, like he understood it. But I could tell that he didn't.
Then I said something that shocked him.
"I would rather have a Pap Test than iron."
He looked at me, agast.
"Seriously? You hate it THAT much?"
I looked at him and said "What did you think when I said that I hated ironing? I would rather get braces put on my teeth again than iron clothing."
I think he finally got that I hate ironing.
Let's hope I never have to do THAT again.
Some people - it's picking up dog poo.
Or cleaning up puke.
Or shoveling the snow off the driveway in wintertime.
Or cleaning bathrooms.
You get my point.
My least favourite thing to do on the planet is ironing.
Yes.
You read that correctly.
I. Hate. Ironing.
I'm sure most irons and ironing boards are quite nice and effective.
I just can't get through a shirt (or God forbid a pair of pants!) without uttering some choice four letter words on how I'd like to send all irons to the deepest part of the ocean, and I'd toss in all things that need to be ironed after them.
I kid you not.
I shop according to the care label that is sewn underneath the label. If it says "Iron on medium heat" I don't buy it. I've even really LIKED shirts that I've tried on, but if it has to be ironed, it's an automatic candidate for the "NO WAY IN HELL AM I EVER BUYING THIS" pile.
My mother used to moan and berate me for my non-ironing ways. "What do you think you're going to do when you're an adult? You can't just wear jeans and tee shirts to work, Cindy!", she'd say.
Of course, I totally bested her in that. At my job, I DO wear jeans and cotton shirts! Ha! I won, Mom!
And when I fell in love, I fell in love with this great guy who was super sensitive, outspoken, and tidy. Who ironed all his stuff, including his jeans. Who never owned a dresser that he actually put CLOTHES in - he hung all of his stuff up in the closet.
Fast forward 13 years. I just finished ironing HIS WORK OUTFITS. I drew the line at using the lint brush, because honestly, if I had to lint brush his clothes on top of ironing them, I'm pretty sure I would have either a) burnt all his clothes on purpose or b) gone stark raving mad.
My blood pressure was already quite high to begin with. I could feel throbbing in my forehead (which is never a good sign).
I ironed all of his clothes.
Hubby was super appreciative but leery of me as I was finishing up. (Not sure what tipped him off.... Maybe the steam/smoke coming out of my ears was a good clue) He tried to make a joke, and to make me laugh, and I skewered him with a Death Glare that we females are famous for.
He quickly fell silent.
I then finished the last sleeve that I was working on, and told him that I loathed ironing.
He seemed to nod, like he understood it. But I could tell that he didn't.
Then I said something that shocked him.
"I would rather have a Pap Test than iron."
He looked at me, agast.
"Seriously? You hate it THAT much?"
I looked at him and said "What did you think when I said that I hated ironing? I would rather get braces put on my teeth again than iron clothing."
I think he finally got that I hate ironing.
Let's hope I never have to do THAT again.
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
I am the best dayhome provider EVER!!!!
Not that I would ever toot my own horn or anything, but man!!! I am a GOOD dayhome provider.
What's that??
You'd like proof, you say?
I can totally accommodate you with that.
Exhibit #1.
I made breakfast for my dayhome kids. Tonight. The night before. (Yeah, I normally make them breakfast, but I went WAY above and beyond the call of duty tonight)
I made homemade pancakes with a wee touch of homemade Pumpkin Pie Spice in them.
*drool, drool*
And, if that's not yummy enough, I made bacon for them too.
Those kids are soooooooooo gosh darned lucky.
They don't even know how good they are going to have it in the morning.
C.
What's that??
You'd like proof, you say?
I can totally accommodate you with that.
Exhibit #1.
I made breakfast for my dayhome kids. Tonight. The night before. (Yeah, I normally make them breakfast, but I went WAY above and beyond the call of duty tonight)
I made homemade pancakes with a wee touch of homemade Pumpkin Pie Spice in them.
*drool, drool*
And, if that's not yummy enough, I made bacon for them too.
Those kids are soooooooooo gosh darned lucky.
They don't even know how good they are going to have it in the morning.
C.
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