Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Why am I at work?
Alright everyone, I’m here at work while the majority, if not all of you, are out frolicking for at least one more day. It’s December 28th here, and although Boxing Day in Canada is a huge deal (we are all hard-core shoppers at heart), it is technically not a Stat holiday in Alberta, where we have Family Day in one of those other non-holiday months instead, and most people just use it as an excuse to stay up late and get drunk and go to the casino instead of spending it with their families anyway. So because Boxing Day (December 26th) is not technically at Stat holiday, we are not given today off in lieu, since Boxing Day fell on a weekend this year. Dave, our boss, who is one of the nicest bosses ever, is miserly and Scrooge-ish when it comes to days off. On Christmas Eve, one of the days of the year when people are running around like fools trying to get all their last-minute stuff done, there were people in this office working until 3:00 p.m. Atrocious. I know. I’ve said as much. And New Year’s Eve? The same thing. AND NO ALCOHOL IN THE OFFICE EITHER! Because Dave fears someone will get drunk and drive over someone else, I think. A fine reason not to have alcohol at work, but one that could easily be nullified by forcing people TO NOT DRIVE TO WORK THAT DAY AT ALL.
I was not one of those people in the office on Christmas Eve, I must admit, although I feel outrage on their behalf. True, one of them brought her dog in for company and entertainment, but still. It’s just not right. And neither will it be right when those same people have to stay here late on New Year’s Eve when I leave at noon (heh). It’s just wrong. So for all of you that might be employers, know that when you make your staff come in on days when you should be giving them the day off, they are slacking egregiously and are not doing any work anyway, and are just getting bitter about working for you. It’s bad.
Anyway, because this is definitely one of those days that should just be given to us to take off, but has not be so decreed, I am slacking the entire day in protest. I’m in here this morning for a while to check my bank balance on line, make a few phone calls to personal friends and family, and then, this afternoon (and by that, I mean at 12:01 p.m.), I will be off to “inspect my properties”. Heh.
However, this being the season of silliness, I have stories to tell. The first is about Evil Dogs. You may remember that, before Christmas, I detailed Cooter’s exploits with inedible things when we left him alone for one and a half hours when we went grocery shopping and I got my car washed. Well, he learned NOTHING from that experience, other than that inedible things are fun to chew. We left the dogs alone in Rob’s house when we went out on Boxing Day, and sure enough, Cooter decided to chew the hell out of the Atari and Intellivision that were downstairs. The upstairs looked fine when we came in from our expedition, wherein which we purchased many clearance-priced items and finery (the outing was a success in that respect). Upon closer inspection of the basement, however, the terrible tragedy was discovered. The Intellivision was Rob’s from when he was young. The Atari was my family’s answer to the gaming craze of the ‘80s. Both utterly destroyed! Wires were in ruins all over the place. Two innocent paddles had met their doom at the mouth of the Cooter. One game cartridge was chewed up as well. And a piece of firewood had also succumbed, although that may have been the work of the NoodleDog. I do suspect that the NoodleDog was sleeping and not playing with Cooter, who is young, energetic and easily distracted, so he probably decided that he needed some entertainment. Being unable to actually work the game (you need several remote controls, opposable thumbs and have to plug various wires into various ports, so it’s more complicated than you’d think), he ate it instead. Rotten Dogs.
Christmas itself was a great time. We had Christmas Eve at Rob’s brother’s house, with his family including his father and great-aunt, and his brother and sister-in-law and their two girls. Dinner was great - Rob did the cooking. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that Rob is a great cook. Rob is a fantastic cook, based on his stuffing. If you eat his stuffing and want to sleep with him afterwards, I will not blame you, although I will probably not allow it.
Christmas morning, the animals opened their stockings at my house, and so did Rob and I. Smudge loved her little rattle-y mousies. She likes to fetch them, which drives Cooter bananas. Cooter watches her all the time, now, and if she moves, he wants to move after her. All that does is make her move faster, which he likes, so he keeps doing it. Eventually, the game ends when she turns around and bops him on the head with her tiny paw, which is pretty entertaining to watch. The NoodleDog prefers rawhide chewies that he can consume to actual toys, so he tries to steal all the ones that are given to Cooter in addition to his own. He gets one, and Cooter gets one, and then Cooter gets distracted by Smudge, so he runs after her, and then the NoodleDog steals Cooter’s chewy, so when Cooter comes back, you have to give him another one. And then the NoodleDog tries to steal that one, too. Naturally, Cooter eventually wants to chew something, so there’s always a little scuffle when they work out which is whose.
After that fun, we went over to my sister’s place. I had been worried about that whole situation, with Christmas being in a different location from usual, but it worked out alright. There were many, many, many presents, and Christmas cheer, and strange things to eat that I did not eat. Banana-walnut grilled cheese on whole-grain nut bread, is one I can recall. I cooked up a pound of bacon instead. We eat a lot of bacon, Rob and I. More so, now that we’re together, I think, than when we were not together. Anyway, it was one of the non-fruit/vegetable-tainted items at Laura’s house, so I ate lots of it. Not as much as you’d think, though, because Rob had brought the thick-sliced stuff, which makes up fewer slices than the regular-sliced bacon, and my father and others were also eating it. So all in all, I probably only got five slices or so. Rob says that they count for more because they’re thicker, but man, when that stuff is cooked-up, it shrinks.
We then went and collected Rob’s father, and his brother’s dog, and we took all the dogs to play ball. The NoodleDog LOOOOVES playing ball. However, competing with Cooter, who is fast but misses the ball half the time, and Bailey, who is a border collie and kind of lives for playing ball, he got aced-out of the deal most of the time. He would run after the ball, and the faster dogs, barking his little heart out. If they missed it, he was so happy to get it and bring it back to us. If Cooter got it, and brought it back to us, he tends to drop the ball kinda in the vicinity, and then the NoodleDog can get it and give it directly to Rob. If Bailey got it, though, he was right out of luck, because Bailey drops it RIGHT on your feet, the better for you to throw it again immediately with no further time delays trying to reach for the ball, or trying to get the dog to “bring it here!” closer to you…
We spent the afternoon at the movie theatre, watching “Meet the Fockers”. It’s funny pretty much all the way through, and I was particularly glad to see it since it assuaged some of my fears of having Rob’s father exposed to my family, who, in comparison to the families in the film, are really not that bad. After the movie, we went for Christmas dinner at my parents’ house. Everyone was there. My sister and Shane, and his parents, and my brother, and my parents, and Rob and his father, and me. We left our dogs at Rob’s house, which was probably a very good thing. The Mac’s dog, Snowy, was there, though, and after dinner (which went well), Laura played with Snowy for about 45 minutes. And when I say “played with”, I mean “chased her around the house like a madwoman, throwing toys for her to get, barely missing my father’s head several times in the process”.
We left around 8:30p, headed home and watched the present that my cats got for Rob (Spiderman 2). And then we went to bed. Finally. And that was not the end of it, no, because the next day was Boxing Day, and we had to take advantage of all the very, very good sales. So we did that, even though it had really snowed a lot on Christmas night, and the roads were kind of a mess. Thankfully, due to the weather, traffic was light, and we were able to get into FutureShop without any problems. While we were there, and looking at a CD-deck to install in my winter car, the salesman tried to talk us out of buying it. He kept telling us we’d need to get it professionally installed at an exorbitant rate, and that we’d need various adapter kits and extra wiring and that the installation, quite frankly, would be a nightmare. All that did was make me not want to buy it at all. The deck itself was only about $60, and not worth struggling with. Rob says that’s how they make their money, by installing things for more than they’re worth, but really, if that was me buying things all the time, I’d just not want to buy them at all, for all that hassle. I hate the radio more than pretty much anyone I know, especially the radio in Calgary, which is nearly unbearable, but still, I’d rather stick with it and just have road rage all the time from the inane chatter rather than deal with annoying salespeople.
We ended up getting it anyway. I have faith in Rob, because he can fix most things, and I think he can install the thing just fine. If he can’t, well, then oh well. I’m really no worse off for trying.
Yesterday was alright – the first fairly quiet day we’ve had so far since Christmas time started. It wasn’t THAT quiet, though – we had to get up, feed cats, get ourselves down to Rob’s place to run errands and do things, and walk dogs, and clean the house. His house is clean now. I vacuumed most of it. I did laundry, too. Rob worked in the shop to clean it up and get ready for camping for New Year’s. Yes, I know. Winter camping. I’ve heard it all. I’ve probably said it all, too. Camping when it’s Very Cold out is probably a crazy idea. However, I’m committed to it now, and there’s no going back – I have to at least try it. It might be fun. Items of expensive warm clothing have been purchased to keep me from freezing and complaining all the time. Provisions have been made to ensure I do not die from the cold. Modifications to the sleeping arrangements (extra bedding and blankets, and an electric blanket) have been made to the camper to keep me from freaking out too much. I’m cautiously optimistic. If I get appendicitis before I go, though, well, then I will just have to cancel the trip. My appendix has been uncooperative in the past when faced with situations like these, so I’m not actually banking on that cancellation factor. Instead, I will rely on my friend, Rye, to keep me from feeling too cold. When I wake up, if I am cold, I can leave for civilization. I’m told there will be a cook-shelter we can hide out in that will have a fire and propane heaters (running in an enclosed space, by the by, which I think is not right, but then again, what do I know about propane other than what I read on the labels that expressly say “DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, UNDER PAIN OF SEVERE EXPLOSION OR DEATH FROM ASPHYXIATION BY INVISIBLE, SMELL-LESS GASSES BUILDING UP, OPERATE IN ENCLOSED SPACES”?). I am trembling, yo, and cannot tell if my trembling is from fear, or extreme cold.
And that, my friends, is where I’m at today. I have already been forced to do more work today than I had planned, and my only hope is to escape to “inspect my properties”. I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and that your New Year’s plans include warmth and friends and good cheer.
I was not one of those people in the office on Christmas Eve, I must admit, although I feel outrage on their behalf. True, one of them brought her dog in for company and entertainment, but still. It’s just not right. And neither will it be right when those same people have to stay here late on New Year’s Eve when I leave at noon (heh). It’s just wrong. So for all of you that might be employers, know that when you make your staff come in on days when you should be giving them the day off, they are slacking egregiously and are not doing any work anyway, and are just getting bitter about working for you. It’s bad.
Anyway, because this is definitely one of those days that should just be given to us to take off, but has not be so decreed, I am slacking the entire day in protest. I’m in here this morning for a while to check my bank balance on line, make a few phone calls to personal friends and family, and then, this afternoon (and by that, I mean at 12:01 p.m.), I will be off to “inspect my properties”. Heh.
However, this being the season of silliness, I have stories to tell. The first is about Evil Dogs. You may remember that, before Christmas, I detailed Cooter’s exploits with inedible things when we left him alone for one and a half hours when we went grocery shopping and I got my car washed. Well, he learned NOTHING from that experience, other than that inedible things are fun to chew. We left the dogs alone in Rob’s house when we went out on Boxing Day, and sure enough, Cooter decided to chew the hell out of the Atari and Intellivision that were downstairs. The upstairs looked fine when we came in from our expedition, wherein which we purchased many clearance-priced items and finery (the outing was a success in that respect). Upon closer inspection of the basement, however, the terrible tragedy was discovered. The Intellivision was Rob’s from when he was young. The Atari was my family’s answer to the gaming craze of the ‘80s. Both utterly destroyed! Wires were in ruins all over the place. Two innocent paddles had met their doom at the mouth of the Cooter. One game cartridge was chewed up as well. And a piece of firewood had also succumbed, although that may have been the work of the NoodleDog. I do suspect that the NoodleDog was sleeping and not playing with Cooter, who is young, energetic and easily distracted, so he probably decided that he needed some entertainment. Being unable to actually work the game (you need several remote controls, opposable thumbs and have to plug various wires into various ports, so it’s more complicated than you’d think), he ate it instead. Rotten Dogs.
Christmas itself was a great time. We had Christmas Eve at Rob’s brother’s house, with his family including his father and great-aunt, and his brother and sister-in-law and their two girls. Dinner was great - Rob did the cooking. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that Rob is a great cook. Rob is a fantastic cook, based on his stuffing. If you eat his stuffing and want to sleep with him afterwards, I will not blame you, although I will probably not allow it.
Christmas morning, the animals opened their stockings at my house, and so did Rob and I. Smudge loved her little rattle-y mousies. She likes to fetch them, which drives Cooter bananas. Cooter watches her all the time, now, and if she moves, he wants to move after her. All that does is make her move faster, which he likes, so he keeps doing it. Eventually, the game ends when she turns around and bops him on the head with her tiny paw, which is pretty entertaining to watch. The NoodleDog prefers rawhide chewies that he can consume to actual toys, so he tries to steal all the ones that are given to Cooter in addition to his own. He gets one, and Cooter gets one, and then Cooter gets distracted by Smudge, so he runs after her, and then the NoodleDog steals Cooter’s chewy, so when Cooter comes back, you have to give him another one. And then the NoodleDog tries to steal that one, too. Naturally, Cooter eventually wants to chew something, so there’s always a little scuffle when they work out which is whose.
After that fun, we went over to my sister’s place. I had been worried about that whole situation, with Christmas being in a different location from usual, but it worked out alright. There were many, many, many presents, and Christmas cheer, and strange things to eat that I did not eat. Banana-walnut grilled cheese on whole-grain nut bread, is one I can recall. I cooked up a pound of bacon instead. We eat a lot of bacon, Rob and I. More so, now that we’re together, I think, than when we were not together. Anyway, it was one of the non-fruit/vegetable-tainted items at Laura’s house, so I ate lots of it. Not as much as you’d think, though, because Rob had brought the thick-sliced stuff, which makes up fewer slices than the regular-sliced bacon, and my father and others were also eating it. So all in all, I probably only got five slices or so. Rob says that they count for more because they’re thicker, but man, when that stuff is cooked-up, it shrinks.
We then went and collected Rob’s father, and his brother’s dog, and we took all the dogs to play ball. The NoodleDog LOOOOVES playing ball. However, competing with Cooter, who is fast but misses the ball half the time, and Bailey, who is a border collie and kind of lives for playing ball, he got aced-out of the deal most of the time. He would run after the ball, and the faster dogs, barking his little heart out. If they missed it, he was so happy to get it and bring it back to us. If Cooter got it, and brought it back to us, he tends to drop the ball kinda in the vicinity, and then the NoodleDog can get it and give it directly to Rob. If Bailey got it, though, he was right out of luck, because Bailey drops it RIGHT on your feet, the better for you to throw it again immediately with no further time delays trying to reach for the ball, or trying to get the dog to “bring it here!” closer to you…
We spent the afternoon at the movie theatre, watching “Meet the Fockers”. It’s funny pretty much all the way through, and I was particularly glad to see it since it assuaged some of my fears of having Rob’s father exposed to my family, who, in comparison to the families in the film, are really not that bad. After the movie, we went for Christmas dinner at my parents’ house. Everyone was there. My sister and Shane, and his parents, and my brother, and my parents, and Rob and his father, and me. We left our dogs at Rob’s house, which was probably a very good thing. The Mac’s dog, Snowy, was there, though, and after dinner (which went well), Laura played with Snowy for about 45 minutes. And when I say “played with”, I mean “chased her around the house like a madwoman, throwing toys for her to get, barely missing my father’s head several times in the process”.
We left around 8:30p, headed home and watched the present that my cats got for Rob (Spiderman 2). And then we went to bed. Finally. And that was not the end of it, no, because the next day was Boxing Day, and we had to take advantage of all the very, very good sales. So we did that, even though it had really snowed a lot on Christmas night, and the roads were kind of a mess. Thankfully, due to the weather, traffic was light, and we were able to get into FutureShop without any problems. While we were there, and looking at a CD-deck to install in my winter car, the salesman tried to talk us out of buying it. He kept telling us we’d need to get it professionally installed at an exorbitant rate, and that we’d need various adapter kits and extra wiring and that the installation, quite frankly, would be a nightmare. All that did was make me not want to buy it at all. The deck itself was only about $60, and not worth struggling with. Rob says that’s how they make their money, by installing things for more than they’re worth, but really, if that was me buying things all the time, I’d just not want to buy them at all, for all that hassle. I hate the radio more than pretty much anyone I know, especially the radio in Calgary, which is nearly unbearable, but still, I’d rather stick with it and just have road rage all the time from the inane chatter rather than deal with annoying salespeople.
We ended up getting it anyway. I have faith in Rob, because he can fix most things, and I think he can install the thing just fine. If he can’t, well, then oh well. I’m really no worse off for trying.
Yesterday was alright – the first fairly quiet day we’ve had so far since Christmas time started. It wasn’t THAT quiet, though – we had to get up, feed cats, get ourselves down to Rob’s place to run errands and do things, and walk dogs, and clean the house. His house is clean now. I vacuumed most of it. I did laundry, too. Rob worked in the shop to clean it up and get ready for camping for New Year’s. Yes, I know. Winter camping. I’ve heard it all. I’ve probably said it all, too. Camping when it’s Very Cold out is probably a crazy idea. However, I’m committed to it now, and there’s no going back – I have to at least try it. It might be fun. Items of expensive warm clothing have been purchased to keep me from freezing and complaining all the time. Provisions have been made to ensure I do not die from the cold. Modifications to the sleeping arrangements (extra bedding and blankets, and an electric blanket) have been made to the camper to keep me from freaking out too much. I’m cautiously optimistic. If I get appendicitis before I go, though, well, then I will just have to cancel the trip. My appendix has been uncooperative in the past when faced with situations like these, so I’m not actually banking on that cancellation factor. Instead, I will rely on my friend, Rye, to keep me from feeling too cold. When I wake up, if I am cold, I can leave for civilization. I’m told there will be a cook-shelter we can hide out in that will have a fire and propane heaters (running in an enclosed space, by the by, which I think is not right, but then again, what do I know about propane other than what I read on the labels that expressly say “DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, UNDER PAIN OF SEVERE EXPLOSION OR DEATH FROM ASPHYXIATION BY INVISIBLE, SMELL-LESS GASSES BUILDING UP, OPERATE IN ENCLOSED SPACES”?). I am trembling, yo, and cannot tell if my trembling is from fear, or extreme cold.
And that, my friends, is where I’m at today. I have already been forced to do more work today than I had planned, and my only hope is to escape to “inspect my properties”. I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and that your New Year’s plans include warmth and friends and good cheer.
