just the essentials

When we move, I’m going to be at the new place hours before anyone else or any of our things. I’m also bringing two of our three cats (the third is easily upset, so he’s staying with Ed) to get them settled in the spare room before chaos descends. To this end, I’m bringing some things with me to make the transition a little easier. Just the necessities – I don’t have much available room on account of the Mini being mini. I’ve packed two small suitcases and have several fabric bins filled with only the most important of moving essentials:

  • Cat food (for sustinance)
  • Cat treats (for bribery)
  • Toilet paper
  • Water dish
  • Litter box
  • Peanut Butter Pretzels from Trader Joe’s
  • 6 litres of Diet Coke
  • A plaid suitcase full of stickers and battery-powered LED lights
  • Two bags of M&Ms (peanut and peanut butter)
  • All of my underwear because it is basically prescription underwear and it’s fucking expensive and I can’t risk having it all disappear
  • Enough portable batteries to last me a week should there be some sort of catastrophe
  • A straw (for drinkin’)
  • Hand soap (not recommended for drinkin’)
  • Blankets to build a fort for the cats, who will want to hide
  • All the medication
  • Most of my makeup because it would be a heinous bitch to replace it all
  • One (1) Bag o’ Laptops
  • Shiny things to keep me amused while I pace the floors
  • A clipboard with all of my spreadsheets printed out so I can cross-reference boxes and locations when the movers arrive
  • Socks (it’s been a long time since we’ve had hardwood floors; my feet will get cold)

It feels like I might be missing something, though. Have I forgotten any must-have move essentials? Keep in mind that the entire rest of my life will only be 2-4 hours behind – I am just Super Organized, and like to be ready for anything, everything, and all the What Ifs in between.

Two more sleeps, and so much to do between now and then.


patron saint of our new home



t minus two

I’ve been meaning to post about our upcoming move for a while now, but seeing as it’s less “upcoming” and more “two fucking days”, I’ve sort of run out of time. For everything. AHHHHH!

After learning that completion of our new place was going to be delayed by a couple of months, we held off on the original plan of listing Sparta for sale in November. There was slight concern that selling in the new year would be more difficult, but we didn’t really have a choice: the show must go on, and we needed the money from the sale of the condo. Luckily, our realtor MJ is a superstar and with her heavy guidance, we made Sparta look as attractive to outsiders as possible. I had assumed that the giant yeti would make an excellent selling point, but MJ disagreed so the yeti had to go. He’s currently enjoying a life of leisure in Sardis, with Shan’s mom. We visit from time to time.

Giant Yeti

yeti days (featuring yeti for days)

The listing for Sparta went online without a hitch, and the open house was held the first weekend in January. It was a pain in the ass – not only because we had to keep the place SPOTLESS while we were still living in it, but also because we didn’t want to leave the three cats in the unit while it was being shown. Ed and I gathered up the cats and supplies and camped out in the garage in our cars during the two open houses. They were not happy. Lemon was so stressed out he actually bit me at one point, so I brought him back upstairs figuring he could just hide in the bedroom while people poked through our home. It was a great plan; one that lasted for 15 whole minutes before MJ texted me: Lemon was perched on the bed hissing at people when they tried to go into the bedroom. We had to take him back downstairs.

The plan was to hold a second weekend of open houses if no one showed any interest in Sparta, but we got an offer on Sunday evening and after a little back and forth, we had an offer we were happy with. Papers were hastily e-signed, and by 10pm that evening, Sparta was sold. Conditions lifted a week later, and things became a hell of a lot more real: it was time to start* moving.

*: technically I had been moving since the previous May so the sale just made me move faster

Now that we knew what we were looking at moneywise, it was time to spend it all. We ordered an entire house worth of new furniture, have made 5 trips to Ikea to date, and had a clearance sale of our remaining items that almost ended in a restraining order because the internet is a terrifying place. The plan was to take our entire bedroom and set it up in the guest room, but I used heavy logic to persuade Ed that a couch/bed solution would make way better use of the room. Wheels were dealed, and our truckload of furniture should be arriving in Vancouver sometime between today and Friday, to be delivered to us in our new home next week.

We’re two days away from moving. The house is 99.4% packed – all that remains are some bathroom items, the reduced contents of the fridge, and the cats. I have an enormous spreadsheet with all of our box contents, a timeline for the move, a list of rooms and measurements, a list of furniture and measurements, a site map, a legend for my box and room coding system, and several postal codes because we can’t determine which one is the correct one. We’ve enlisted Shan to help us out on Move Day, because we can’t be in three places at once and I had to cram a lot of things into a four hour window. Friday is going to be a finely choreographed ballet of super tight timelines and stress. I can’t wait! I get to see all my STUFF again! It’s been SO LONG!

The new home doesn’t have a name yet. I’ve been toying with “The Hive” on account of the bright yellow door, but we’ll see. Sparta was only named thusly because 300 was on TV the night before we moved in, so perhaps something equally catchy will land on my face on Thursday evening.

Stay tuned for house warmings!


oh, i can’t wait to see you again / it’s only a matter of time

all better now

I’m feeling much better now. I had a long nap and a big messy cry and sang the song of my very sad people to anyone who would listen, but. Today is a new day! I have very many good things in my life that I am grateful for. I try not to dwell on the negative or the impossibly badly handled, but yesterday was just fucking difficult and my secret inside thoughts spilled out all over everything and created a slippery mess on the floor. It’s true that being the Only One sometimes gets to me, but let’s face it: I enjoy being different. For someone who is afraid of people and things, I kind of like standing out. I would be miserable if I was exactly same as the others, and most of the time I find the complications that come with the territory of being me truly hilarious. Heart failure that appears for no reason? Hah! Diabetes that defies medical science? LOL! Discovering flaws in the system by accidentally being such an incredible edge case that no logical person would ever think it a potential issue? I was voted most likely to do exactly that in high school three years running! So, yeah. Suffering all them slings and arrows of outrageous fortune is not a new thing. Sometimes, it – and by extension, I – get sort of built up, like lime scale on a shower head. I just need a good dip in CLR, or something. Or OxiClean. But wait, there’s more!

Only no more, please. We move in less than three weeks. I do not have time for another round of unbelievable, could-only-happen-to-Kimli bullshit in my life just yet.

Thank you for all the comiseration and good thoughts sent my way. Y’all good people. <3

I know what you dream of, I dream of it too. #yvr #granvilleisland #netloft #paperya

no more angst. only winged unicorn donkeys hanging from cotton candy and pooping out rainbow balls.

the only one

I’m the only one.

The only girl.

The only half-breed.

The only Canadian.

It doesn’t stop there: I’m the only editor. The only sysadmin. The only support. The only analyst. The only writer. I’ve been a team of one in every job I’ve had. There’s no policy that applies to me. I’m in a unique situation. We don’t know what to do with you. You don’t fit into the promotion matrix. You have no career path. You’re a unicorn.

I got a new job. I’m the only writer, the only Canadian, the only contractor. “In name only!”, they reassure me. I’m not offered the same company shares all employees receive when they are hired. I’m not onboarded the same, so I don’t know to ask. I’m the only one.

The company is sold. Every other person receives a windfall when the shares are sold. They’re all brought on as a real employees. “We don’t know what to do you”, the new company says. “Sit in this corner until we figure it out.” I’m a contractor, for real this time. I submit timesheets. I get paid weekly. No sick days. No vacation days. My badge is a different colour. My email address has a flag. I’m the only one.

Everyone else attends new hire training. They receive equipment and get onboarded with the company. I do not. I ask for credentials. I ask for information. I ask for help. I ask for equipment. “Sorry, contractors don’t get equipment.” I’m the only one.

I use my personal laptop and monitor. Eventually, I get a laptop. It is outside the company inventory, and not connected to the network. I can still log on and work. I don’t mind.

My user name is changed to have a different flag. I don’t know why. I’m not told when it happens, or given any information about what to do. I’m the only one. I figure it out on my own.

My password expires. I can’t reset it. My ID does not know who I am, since my name changed. The help desk cannot help me: I don’t have an employee number. No one knows what to do with me. If I manage to get all the pieces, they can give me a temporary password. It’ll only work on corporate computers, though. I don’t have one of those. I’m the only one who doesn’t.

I finally get a resource for equipment. It’s shipped to the wrong location, so I go pick it up and take it to the original location. It has no credentials. It has to be reimaged.

Oops, sorry. The laptop is actually broken. Go talk to procurement.

P: Why don’t you have a computer?

K: I’m a contractor.

P: So am I. So is he. We’re with the same company you are. When we got onboarded, we got computers.

K: I don’t know what to tell you. I joined in September, and have received nothing. I didn’t get onboarded.

P: Well that’s stupid. Let me look into it. [makes phone calls] Oh. Apparently the “no equipment” policy is just for you. Huh. We aren’t able to give you one.

K: How ’bout that. So, how can I reset my password?

P: You can’t. Your system name changed. You need a new ID issued. Here’s a loaner laptop, though. You can’t log into it, and you’ll eventually need to bring it back here. Good luck. We’ve never seen this before. You’re the only one.

Eventually, my temporary equipment is sorted. I jump through all the hoops and get a temporary password. It’s successfully reset. A small victory.

I have a pounding headache. I have no resources. I am beyond demoralized. I have a thousand questions and no one to turn to. I am alone. I am unhappy.

I’m the only one.


elvis was a hero to most

As the rhythm designed to bounce
What counts is that the rhymes
Designed to fill your mind
Now that you’ve realized the pride’s arrived
We got to pump the stuff to make us tough
From the heart
It’s a start, a work of art
To revolutionize make a change nothing’s strange
People, people we are the same
No we’re not the same
Cause we don’t know the game
What we need is awareness, we can’t get careless
You say what is this?
My beloved lets get down to business
Mental self defensive fitness
Bum rush the show
You gotta go for what you know
Make everybody see, in order to fight the powers that be
Lemme hear you say
Fight the power


this is what the song’s about, right?

instagram: a romance

It’s a tale as old as time: girl posts giant ass picture. Fellow ass-posting girl compliments the ass. Boy sees second ass girl and tries to get her attention, but wackily misfires. Non-ass-posting girl takes the bait. Boy doesn’t get it. Non-ass-posting girl calls him stupid. Boy doesn’t get it. Boy keeps trying. Non-ass-posting girl is annoyed, but resigns herself to her fate because at least the Korean Christians have stopped mistagging her in their non-stop Instagram blessings.

Boy never finds out girl’s ass size.

~ fin ~

don’t tell me no

It took 7 phone calls (me to mom, me to my bank, me to mom’s bank, and several being chastised by some guy my mom sicced on me), one Visa application, a new email account, several enraged screams of frustration, two visits to the meatspace bank, a $300 trip to Victoria, and a heaping serving of Reverse Fraud, but I beat the fucking system.

All to save myself the hassle of writing and mailing cheques a few times a year.

Okay maybe my effort in was a bit of overkill, but I really fucking hate it when something so completely simple – take money from R and put it in 9 – cannot be accomplished with technology. I am a hermit. I don’t WANT to go to a bank, or a post office. I don’t own stamps. And envelopes? I don’t have an office I can steal supplies from. Where the fuck am I supposed to get envelopes? Also – and this is probably the biggest driver of my behaviour – I really fucking hate being told “no”. What do you mean, “no”? Did you pronounce “yes” wrong? I do not accept your “no”. I will go through a ridiculous amount of effort to make it work. I’m tenacious, stubborn, and not above using Sneaky Petery to get what I want – which, in this case, is to not have to deal with cheques or people.

I’d tried to set mom up with an online banking account in the past, thinking that I could pretend to be her and handle transfers that way. Unfortunately, although I had all the required information, the system wouldn’t let me create the account. Today with mom sitting beside me, we called the bank and tried to do it over the phone .. but she got every single verification question wrong, so we didn’t get very far. We had to go into a branch and talk to someone. Well, fuck. I packed mom and all her ID up in the Mini, and we drove off to the bank that is by the old house and nowhere near where she currently lives. There was some slight alarm, as they know my mom at that bank and didn’t understand why she suddenly wanted online access (I’m pretty sure the bank employs people just to deal with the non-technical), but I was able to explain it away – honestly, I was envisioning ACTUAL alarms, with people asking my mother if she was being coerced by this weird looking stranger into accessing her money. Depressingly, we look enough alike that they accepted my story (also, she told every person who walked by “this is my daughter! from vancouver!”) so we got in.

After the teller reset the account and added a temporary password, he started to tell my mother about all the things she could do online or with a smartphone. My mom listened politely for several minutes, until I stagewhispered “SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT” to him. He laughed, and said “We’ll get her on a smartphone in no time!” to which I replied “the hell we are – I’m the one who has to support it”. We quickly left, before he could convince my mom she needed a computer.

There was a brief side-mission in which we picked up groceries: organic bananas, organic bok choy, organic cat treats. Someone told my mother about “organic”, and now she insists that all food be organic. No, mom, I don’t think those Temptations cat treats are organic. Yes, I know it says “natural” on the box. No, I don’t think Sam can taste the difference.

Once we were home again, I tried out the shiny new bank password and managed to get in. From there, I set up her account along with an email address on my domain that forwards to me. I discovered a very handy new feature, too: you can set your account up to automatically deposit all e-transfers sent to a specific address without needing to answer a verification question first. This is perfect, because I can simply email money to the address I created, and it’ll automatically go into her account without requiring intervention of any kind. Where was this feature when I tried to set all this shit up a year ago? Nowhere, that’s where. I’m glad it’s here now (and I set it up for myself – feel free to email me money at any time!), because while I was prepared to respond to the e-transfer emails from “mom’s account”, it’s several less steps for me. This is good.

So, that takes care of the cheques thing. Next up is sending off a form to redirect mom’s insurance payments to come out of my account instead of hers – I’ve already got the account set up using the email address I created, but all that can do is tell me how much her dental claims are for. I don’t care. I don’t want to know. Just take my money and leave me alone.

I also made her use the Visa I gave her to ensure it was activated properly. She’ll hang onto that, and use it for emergencies. I’ll auto-throw money at her account each month for sundries, and pay for her dental insurance in addition to her cable and phone bills. The only snag in my setup is that you can’t set up recurring e-transfers, so I’ve had to add a calendar reminder to get it done each month. Other than that, though .. it’s done. I don’t have to talk to anyone, or put on pants to go into a bank, or give my credit card information to strangers over the phone. I fucking WON. It’s like triumphing over Windows Vista all over again!

I am pleased with my reverse fraud.

At some point, I will stop blogging about money and cheques and insurance. Someone once told me there’s more to my life than just freaking out over my mother being dumb, and there’s some truth to that – like, we just sold SPARTA. That’s news too! News for later!