It’s Thanksgiving up here in Canada, and I am enjoying a leisurely Sunday afternoon before a potluck dinner with some of my favourite people in the world. I am warm (or I would be, if I wasn’t naked), fed, and full of Diet Coke. Life is good.
I am thankful for these things:
Happy a happy turkey, y’all.
I’m a big advocate of accepting change, but when the change happens to me I am full of freaking out.
Yesterday at work, my boss told me that I have been transferred – or as I like to think of it, “gifted” – to another department, and will no longer be reporting to him. This isn’t a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination, but it sent me into an evening-long anxiety attack all the same. Things are going swimmingly at work – I like the stuff I’m doing, people rarely ask me to do stupid things, and I like my boss. He tends to leave me to my own sometimes nefarious devices with the odd request thrown here and there, and admirably dealt with my major hissyfit over my xxxtreme dissatisfaction a few months back. However, I’ve worked my magic over half the company for almost three years, and it’s time to start looking at the terrible and wholly incorrect things the REST of the company is doing and whip them into shape under my (tiny) iron fist. So, my headcount has been gifted to another department – and I am not at all certain that this entire thing is not a huge karmic bite in the ass.
I’ve been transferred to the “People and Culture” team.
I have a meeting with my new boss on Tuesday, and I will find out what is what. I’m mostly concerned that there’s a new desk in my immediate future – instead of my lovely secret currently-temp-filled hidey hole, I am almost certain I’m going to be moved into the large desk outside the VP’s office. Yeah, bigger desk .. with no window, no wall behind me, and utterly in the open. I’m getting all agoraphobic just thinking about it. But .. change is good, right? I can do this. I’m just so totally awesome that my old department couldn’t handle it, is all.
breathe.
Dear Apple:
I would like to bring the seriousness of your false advertising to your attention. While I am not requesting a refund – you will pry my iPhone out of my tiny, clammy hands – I do hope that this letter will force you to Do Something about the misleading claims made by your company.
I have been using your “Facetime” video phone feature a lot over the last few days, and I am extremely disheartened to note that my Facetime experiences contained none of the following:
Based on your constant advertising for the iPhone 4 and Facetime, I had a reasonable expectation to see some, if not all, of the things your commercials promised. I do not recall your campaign featuring choppy, pixelated images that freeze and drop calls at random, or a strange echo that comes from using the speaker phone.
Also, there was a great deal more penis in my Facetime experience than previously advertised.
In all fairness to consumers, I really think you ought to redo the Facetime commercials on television to show real people, really using the product. Simulated images and happy, wholesome people sharing gooey snippets of life’s big moments in crystal clarity is just not the reality: you should be showing grainy tits and cocks at 4 frames per second, and maybe people illegally streaming live concert footage for their friends who couldn’t get in. This sappy Oxygen Network stuff just doesn’t happen in the real world.
So much cock!
Sincerely,
Kimli
.. I want to go back to isolation in the boardroom, please.
I’ve been back for 3 hours and I remember why I was so happy to move in the first place – the temps talk. A lot. And they chew, and move, and breathe, and they’re in my bubble. I shouldn’t have to cram earphones in to block out a conversation about ice cubes – I just want to work in peace.
I miss having my own office.
No more exile!
I’ve been working out of a boardroom due to a project for the last few weeks, but today I had my final boardroom training session so I immediately packed up and went back to my desk. I missed all my stuff. As fun as it was to work out of a new location for a while, it quickly got annoying (and lonely). Hooray! Status quo!
I have the house to myself as Ed is on a business trip, but I don’t have time to relax. I was so tired yesterday that I did nothing at all in the evening, which actually didn’t help – getting out of bed this morning took a Herculean effort that barely succeeded. Tonight there is no time for nothing – Shan and I are going to the K-oS show at the Venue. I enjoy a few K-oS songs but I’m really there to see the opening act (Astronautalis), who we are successfully stalking each time he comes through Vancouver. It should be a great show – I just hope I can come up with enough energy to properly enjoy it. If I can’t handle it, I always have the option of just staying for the opening act .. seems like kind of a waste, but I’m old and tired and Thursday night is no time for rocking out.
Ooh, long weekend coming up. That will help – I can sleepwalk through Friday, then.
please take me seriously
i do what a must (with a crowbar) because i can
You urgently need a man thong, preferably in gold lamé or sequins. You’re writing a blog post about home décor and want to use the term “honey pot”, but have a sneaking suspicion that you could be misconstrued. Someone asks you if you’d like to touch their merkin, but you’re not sure what your answer should be. What do you do? Where do you go in your time of need? Who will gently help you with all the things you’re terrified to ask?
Me, of course.
I love that I’m like a one-stop shop for anything even slightly salacious – if you need to know what it is, where it should be inserted, and how you can get one NOW, I’m your girl. Two of the three scenarios in the opening paragraph happened this morning, from different people over different messaging tools and for some weird reason, at the same time. Seriously, this makes me incredibly happy. I’m glad that all the brain power and fleshy disk space I’ve used up to memorize a Wikipedia’s worth of bawdy knowledge is so handy not just to myself, but my friends. The precociousness of my talent for the ribald that I first showed my proud father and mortified brother at 14 has blossomed into a beautiful, gushing fountain of hot, thick knowledge that spurts out from betwixt my lips and fingers in a sticky droplets to be lapped up by those around me, and it. is. awesome.
instagram is kind of fantastic - check it out
One of these days, someone is going to catch on:
yes i realize the inconsistencies in the email address; shut up
This isn’t the first time I’ve done this, and it won’t be the last. Granted, this time I did need help from Twitter to come up with fake company names – I’m tired, okay. People came up with some great ones though, and now I’ll have enough fodder for my next set of horrible CRM manuals! It’s the only thing that keeps me sane!
wait, was she actually BORN on naboo? get me a nerd to answer that, stat!
This article in today’s paper is doing little to strengthen my resolve:
I like our condo. I still think we got a very good deal on the place, and it has everything we were looking for in a home and more. The location is central, we’re handling the super-crazy mega mortgage admirably, and it feels like home.
.. and I would move back to the North Shore in half a second if the opportunity arose.
We both miss living in North Vancouver. When we were looking for a place to buy and filled with serious loathing for the Drunken Kappa Phi frat house we lived in, we tried really hard to stay on the North Shore – but there just wasn’t anything available. So, Sparta is where we ended up and it really is great .. BUT. As close as we ARE to the North Shore, it’s not the same – and every time we’re over there, I am pained. I want to live in North Vancouver again. I loved living there right up until the last 6 months or so, when everything went bad all at once. Ed and I were out and about one day when he asked me “If we ever had the opportunity, would you want to move back to the North Shore?” – and he hadn’t even gotten the whole question out when I said “Fuck yes”. I’m a little more ambitious about it, I think – Ed says “maybe in 5 years or so”, whereas I’m thinking “so, spring of 2012? Let’s do it!”. I used to have a bad habit of moving every two years like clockwork – having to wait 5 years seems impossible to me. I rarely plan that far out in advance; I have a hard enough time dealing with next Tuesday.
We’ll be back on the North Shore before long; I can feel it. Not that I’m not happy now, but look at the article – I could only be happier, and that’s all I really want out of life. Happiness, and a pug. That’s not too much to ask.
It’s funny how one word can make an entire song run though my head, willingly or not:
We scooted down Broadway on Thursday night, and there was a sign above my head marking the power line. Right on cue, Jem starts up in my head and doesn’t go away for several hours. This morning in the lab, I am having power issues – as in, I have none and I can’t find our desktop person and/or want to crawl around on my knees to jury-rig a solution. Oh look – she’s got the power, power, she’s got the power, power power, she’s got the power ..
I just figured I should share the love, is all.
My weekend was a sandwich – a slice of fun between two pieces of utter suck. Thanks to a brutal headache, I spent Friday night wallowing on the couch and feeling sorry for myself. The assortment of drugs I took (and the promise of a Mexican Scramble from Deacon’s Corner with extra salsa) made things all better, and I was up bright and early on Saturday so I could head over to Railtown to make buttons with Reilly and Shan. We crafted for several hours, then it was home for a quick nap before I both re- and undressed for the evening: a fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity at Dulcinea Chocolate Cafe on Denman, where My Friend Lisa (aka Shan and Reilly and sometimes Darren) was playing their first live show. It was a great evening with music from both MFL and Freddie of The Autumn Portrait, who led us all in a singalong and on whom I now harbour a secret crush (the tweet about knee pads? yeah, I was totally trying for creepy). Also, Dulcinea does some amazing things with chocolate – we’ll be back for sure.
It was past 11 and food was required, so we packed things up and headed out into the night. To my dismay, Vera’s was closed so most of the gang went to a random Mediterranean place featuring meat on kebabs. I wasn’t really feeling the place though, so I made Ed take me to Donair Dude on Davie before heading home for some late night meat and well-earned indigestion.
I meant to do a thousand things on Sunday, but oh hey look at this awesome headache. Another day spent on the couch and a to-do list a mile long, and it’s Monday again – how does this happen? Ed’s off to Alberta this week for Important Insurance Business, so I have the house to myself and a bunch of fun plans – here’s hoping my stupid headache does not get in the way of anything, or I will be pissed.
Reminder to myself and also for other people who are nerds: the Pac-Man Moleskine series launches tomorrow, and The Autumn Project‘s new album drops which you should check out.
delicious juice dot com 