My dad died 6 years ago tonight, and at his bedside I swore. A lot. Not only did I not want to be there, someone had forgotten to remind him that he was invincible and therefore should not be there either. I urged him to get up and shake it off, and then we’d go to the lake and he could try to teach me how to skip stones again because I never could get the hang of it. I coaxed and I cried and I cajoled and I promised I’d eat all my veggies and clean my room, but in the end, my father died just after 10pm on a warm late summer evening.

In addition to swearing regular swear words, I swore that I would put avenge his death with brutal and exacting vengeance, Kill Bill style. I don’t really know where to start, which is why it’s been six years and I’ve yet to buy a yellow jumpsuit or adopt a really cool nickname. I suppose I should get on that, but at least Uma Thurman had an idea of how to find her enemies – what am I supposed to do against the cold uncaring face of time itself? There’s no shiny Japanese sword mystical and hand-crafted enough to beat up time in exchange for taking my dad. Stupid men over 90, why you gotta be so feeble? Not cool, man. Not to mention the mysterious cancer that just “happened” to show up out of nowhere, striking my dad down in his prime. How do I fight that? Maybe I should start with a soundtrack. Get a cool soundtrack, and the mysterious origins of my creation will make themselves known in a highly stylized flashback. Oh yeah. We’re really moving now!

Seriously though, I miss my dad. And crying gives me a headache. I should eat some chocolate. If it works for Dementor attacks, it should work against the ugly aftermath of .. this.

A few months back I found a wicked deal on one of the local e-coupon sites: 2 nights in Whistler, steaks and terrifying gondolas. It seemed like an excellent idea, so I purchased the voucher and went on my merry way.

This weekend Ed and I are using said voucher, and are currently holed up in a fancy suite in the middle of Whistler Village. We had dinner at a steakhouse last night, and today used the Peak to Peak passes to go way the hell up a mountain or two. It’s our anniversary on the 21st (ps: anniversary tacos will be had; join us if you don’t suck), and we are pre-celebrating in style.

Truthfully, we’re being kind of boring but it’s exactly what we need. I did go into the office on Friday to get some work done even though I was still Mighty Ill, and it wasn’t until we had left the city far behind us that I started to feel even somewhat human again. I’m still not 100%, but I no longer feel as though I’m on a different axis than the rest of you (and the alarming surprise vomiting is almost gone entirely). I think it was a combination of sick and stress – at any rate, spending a quiet weekend swanking it up in a hotel is kind of awesome.

The addition of the two Peak to Peak passes in our weekend deal was the thing that really caught my eye – it’s one of those things that I’d love to do but would be extremely hard pressed to pay the $50 per person to go up. With our Excellent Deal in hand though, we merrily made our way up the first of two gondolas to explore the mountain before it’s crawling with people who enjoy the cold wet stuff that falls from the sky. The day was overcast with the occasional spot of sun, and what we were able to see was breath-taking (I’ll post pictures when I’ve got a real computer at my disposal; I packed my iPad camera adapters in preparation for London) and I only almost fell out of the small gondola twice. The actual P2P gondola was amazing and terrifying – it’s the longest cable-suspended gondola in the world, and if I thought about all that empty air beneath me for too long I got dizzy and panic-stricken. Still, it was beautiful up there and I’m glad we got to do it even if I wasn’t really up to doing any of the trails – being sick and in super thin air equals hard times.

After the gondolas we wandered into the village for some food, then came back to hotel room to nap. Ed is currently reading, I am cursing my decision to not bring my bluetooth keyboard, and I may take a bath. We are not a wild Larry (auto-correct insists on Larry, so there he is), but I needed this. We both did.

What started as a stress headache brought on by yesterday’s doctorb appointment (more on that later) got worse and worse as the day went on, culminating in a headache-filled sleep made up of dreams about headaches and hurting from headaches and a party in which everyone had to wear a headache to attend. When I woke up, I very nearly pulled a Cheddar (sometimes she’ll wake up from a nap and puke on the bed) – my head had hit number two on Billboard Top 100 chart of worst headaches of all time. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to drag myself into the shower and remember how to get clean, wanting to die with every movement I made. By the time I finished and made it to the Moisturizing Station I knew I was in trouble, what with the fact my head hurt so bad I couldn’t see, the cold sweats, the shaking and the uncontrollable urge to purge. I stumbled back into bed, keeping it together long enough to bang out a 4-word email to the office informing of them of my impending death by migraine, then lay there in extreme danger of simultaneously vomiting, passing out, crying pitifully for my mother, spontaneously combustioning and more. I took the strongest drugs I could find and gave serious thought to taking eight more when things didn’t get better immediately. Eventually Ed woke up and closed the windows for me, allowing me to sink below the surface of consciousness until I swam up again almost 6 hours later – still hurting, but downgraded to a tropical storm. I can handle that. At least I can see again.

This has not been the best week I’ve had in the history of weeks. We were supposed to ride up to Whistler tomorrow to celebrate our anniversary, but the weather isn’t playing along and we have to take the car. I’ve never ridden the Sea to Sky on Lola before, and I was looking forward more to the ride than the stay in the village, but it’s not going to happen. Part of our anniversary weekend was going to be a trip to the baths at Scandinave, but I’m so freaked out about work and expecting to be fired any second (being sick today did not help my paranoia) that I don’t want to spend any money at all (the trip to Whistler is already paid for), so we’re not going to the spa. I realized I was dangerously close to running out of crazy pills this week, so I made an appointment to see the doctor yesterday. It took 103 minutes for me to get in to see the doctor, and my appointment took 3 minutes and 20.1 seconds – this started my headache, because I wasn’t expecting the appointment to take three hours including travel and I had a crapload of work to do. It didn’t help things at all that the doctor’s office is in a lead-lined basement and I couldn’t get a 3G signal, OR that when I finally did get a connection 75 minutes into the waiting I discovered that the axe had started falling at work – a VP “decided” to leave, and his replacement somehow started last Monday – or that I still had so much work to do and my increasingly terrible headache was making it hard to think. When I finally got home, I worked and swore and worried and ached but not fast enough and had to skip Heather’s Wednesday Night Salad Party. I’m supposed to have tomorrow off for our anniversary weekend, but I’m feeling so guilty about being sick today that I might go in for at least half the day tomorrow, since we’re not riding up to Whistler anymore. And my head still hurts, and oh the embarrassing medical issue I’m dealing with is basically unavoidable so we’re tinkering with my dosage again.

I’d like a do-over on this week, please.

Sorry for whining. I’m just sore and sad and scared and sweaty and stressed and other terrible things that start with S. My coping skills aren’t at their best right now, and .. you know, I always feel out of sorts this time of year. This Sunday will be six years since my dad died, and while everything I’m dealing with can’t easily be chalked up to moping, I wonder if the deathiversary is weighing heavily on my subconscious. Hm. Doesn’t help by knowing, though.

to do: burn down your house (with the lemons)

I’m stressed out about work and there’s nothing I can do it about it.

I still love what I’m doing – each day is every so slightly more ridiculous than the one before it, and I am vastly pleased that no one questions the silly things I put in my documentation. My team is awesome, my boss is awesome, no one bats an eye when I stick things on my forehead and take pictures – all this is good. I am content, at least in that area.

Unfortunately, almost everything else sucks. The entire company is stressed out and under pressure because no one knows what’s going on behind closed doors: the new CEO has the whole executive team in meetings 24/7 and scary decisions are being made, and no one knows if there’ll be layoffs or reshuffling or what. New CEO is nowhere near as warm and fuzzy as our old one was, and has basically turned our fun, easy going atmosphere into one of secret meetings, barked orders and paranoia. I know he was brought in to fix things, but .. it’s scary in here. Everyone is worried, and no one has any answers. I’m trying to keep my head down and just work through my own projects, but the air in here is electric with fear and that blows. I’m worried for myself, my team, my boss, my coworkers, my desk: if I get escorted out in a round of layoffs, I’d need to collect all my STUFF and normally someone will box it up for you. That can’t happen – most of my STUFF is special and/or irreplaceable, and it’s everywhere. It’d take hours if not days to remove any physical trace of me from the office, and years to boring up the hundreds of documents I’ve written.

That’s all worst case scenario, but one I need to reluctantly admit is a possibility. I hate this passionately, but there is nothing I can do about anything and that sucks. My tummy hurts. I don’t like scary change.

Maybe our new CEO will come down with a terminal case of Boneitis.

he doesn't want any ass prints on his new door :(

I am going to assume that it’s in everyone’s best interest that I am able to be online while in Europe. Admit it – you want to read my updates and tweets about pay toilets and queuing and baguettes while I’m gone. There are other reasons to stay connected too – the internet often tells me where I am when I can’t figure it out on my own, and the Find My iPhone app will be fantastic if (when) the three of us get separated. Plus, Instagram. If I had internet, you could follow my adventures on Instagram and it’d almost be like you were in London and Paris with us. There is absolutely no downside to my having 3G in Europe.

So, how do I make that happen?

I know I need to get a UK sim card; one that has a data plan. Hell, it can only have a data plan for all I care – I don’t use the phone locally; I’m sure not gonna use it while having Fancy Adventure Times overseas. I’ve heard from several sources that I’ll need a sim card cutter to make the card micro sized, if I’m not able to get one already made tiny. That can be Amazon’d or eBay’d with ease, but it’s the getting a pre-paid UK sim card part that is confounding me – how do I make it go? I’ve been directed to several UK carriers that have EXACTLY what I need (by the way, $7 for unlimited data is disgusting – we are getting so ripped off in Canada), but they don’t ship internationally or accept non-UK credit cards.

Help!

What’s the best way for me to go about getting three iPhone 4 UK sim cards with data only?

ten points for gryffindor. also, everyone always laughs at the stuff I have - but who else would just so happen to have a gay rainbow lightning bolt sticker available on the off chance I ever needed to dress like Harry Potter for 15 seconds? no one. only me. i win this exact situation and everything else forever.

Since when has the law been a “do as we say and not as we do” kind of thing?

On my way home I saw:

• A policeman in an unmarked car using his dashboard computer while driving (I was directly behind him in traffic and could clearly see his head pointed at the screen with an occasional glance up to make sure didn’t hit anyone)
• A firetruck in non-emergency mode making an illegal left-hand turn at Main and Pender (no left turns between 7am and 6pm; it was 5:15)
• Another policeman talking on his cell phone while driving down Main Street towards Hastings

.. not to mention the usual assortment of assclowns and dong horfers who tried to run me down or pull up on my right side when I was clearly waiting to turn right with my signal on.

What the fuck, people.

Shame on you, @VancouverPD. How can we expect you to eventually lay charges in connection with the riots sometime in the next 5 years if you can’t even follow your own stupid traffic laws?

What, you’ve never seen a girl riding a scooter in a skirt and shin guards before? Stop staring. You know you’re just mad you didn’t think of it first, Smirky McBusiness Casual. Score is me: 1, you: negative six million.

sexy. you know it.

I am using all my powers of hyperbole and sarcasm to try and make this presentation on PCI Data Security interesting, and it is not going well. I’ve managed to squeeze in a reference to Devastator – it’s not much, but it’s a start. Maybe I’ll throw in some pictures of Vault Boy. He jazzes things up nicely in a pinch.

I’m tired.

I absolutely cannot get enough of things that shit rainbows:

Muffin Knight and Jetpack Joyride – $0.99 each; untold hours of lost productivity. It took me a while to fully get the point of Muffin Knight, but once I did .. well, I was up until 3:30am playing. Both are awesome. Both will suck you in like an enthusiastic strumpet on job evaluation day. Get them now, or forever be without things that shit rainbows.

The entire universe knows my stance on A2M – never do it, ever ever ever – so accordingly, nothing kills my lady boner while reading erotica faster than coming across a scene of A2M. Ooh yeah that’s hot slap that ass and lick that clit and BAM someone in the corner goes A2M and that’s the end of it for me. Even badly written fictional characters can never go A2M. Why this isn’t a universal truth is completely beyond me.

Welcome home, Kienan Hebert – glad you’re back. The happy ending everyone hopes for but rarely comes true is a reality in this case, and that’s awesome. I do have a theory about the whole thing, though – the suspected kidnapper, Randall Hopley, has a history of child abduction. He took some kid a few years back, but it was a misguided attempt to return a foster child to his birth parents. I don’t know why I think this, and this is simply my own theory so don’t go quoting me as a source or anything, but Kienan is the youngest child in a family with eight kids, including one with serious health issues. I have a feeling that if Hopley took the kid, it was because he thought Kienan was being neglected and was sad – not for any nefarious purposes (other than, you know, stealing a child). Just a hunch. I’m probably wrong given that I am a mere outsider with rainbows on the brain, but it was interesting to think about.

9/11: they said “Never Forget” and I never will, but I am seriously squicked out by the sheer amount of grief porn going on today. I won’t be watching TV or reading the news, and instead having my own private memorial inside my head. I know ten years is a milestone number, but I’m pretty sure “submerging yourself in televised memorials and drawing out your pain for people to gawk at” isn’t a step in the healing process.

Today there will be passports and pie.

After Operation: Panties failed miserably yesterday, I spent several hours buying underwear on eBay. This can only be the best idea I’ve ever had!

I am ruing the lost of my hard drive with all my music on it.

Old insecurities are creeping back in, making me doubt everything about myself. Hello there, low self esteem – I didn’t really miss you, you know. But now that you’re here, why don’t you just go ahead and tell me all the things that are wrong with me? Have a seat; this’ll likely take a while.

nature is nifty.

Everyone knows the image of Che Guevara worn by “cool” people who rarely know anything about the man on their shirt or the sheer irony of the statement they’re making, but today was the first time I’d ever seen it taken to this level:

i .. um .. WHAT??!

I can’t even count to the number of levels of confusion this shirt brings me. It’s a big number. I may need an abacus.

I’m not sure whether to be amused or horrified that my job contains actual InfoPath emergencies.

At any rate, I am BEYOND AMUSED that my bad influence seems to be spreading throughout the company. I just received a template for an internal document that includes things like:

Recent Issues

• June: No issues
• July: Godzilla destroyed power plant in southern Ontario; 23 locations without power for 2 days

What are our objectives?

• Synergize analysis and analyze synergies
• Network diversity to thwart imminent Mothra attack

.. snort. This is the first time I’ve seen Kimli-like ridiculousness in a document that I didn’t create. I tip my bonnet to you, good sir.