i’m it

Renee gone done tagged me, she did:

So Kimli tagged me with that 25 things meme. But since this is a ‘blog and you already know at least 25 things, OR MORE, about me, I’m gonna do another meme that I wish I’d been tagged for instead. This one is the “list all the jobs you’ve had, in order.” Also, I tag KIMLI :)

Okay, let’s test that memory of mine!

  • Taco slinger in a tiny food court located outside the theatre at University Heights Mall in Victoria
  • McEverything at McDonalds
  • Reluctant Hostess at a car sales lot
  • Counter monkey at Consumer’s Distributing in Mayfair Mall (a “personal massager” was item #407122!)
  • Clothing jockey at a Cotton Ginny (to date my only real retail job)
  • Gourmet coffee cart girl – that’s right; I’m a classically trained barista
  • Voter registration card scanner
  • Co-Op student at the Ministry of Environment, Water and Parks (or whatever it was called back then)
  • Payroll Administrator at a jewellery store
  • Admin Level I at the Ministry of Agriculture
  • Various temp jobs
  • Executive Assistant
  • Technological Overlord
  • Columnist for Telefragged.com
  • Asset Manager at a software company
  • Columnist for Speakeasy’s game site
  • eSports Commentator on the Internets
  • On Call Sex Toy Peddler
  • Fetishware model
  • Miserable, suicidal receptionist at a horrible little company that manufactured train parts
  • IMAC Coordinator at the original Space Station
  • Technical Writer (same place; title change)
  • Project Manager for the nasty illegal space station 2.0
  • Internet Superstar for the above mentioned space station – seriously, it was on my business cards and everything
  • Technical Trainer and Documentation Specialist at The Lab

.. that doesn’t seem like very much, but there it is. ‘nee, you know my past almost as well as I do – am I missing anything particularly salacious or tawdry?

Next time I need to update my resume (which hopefully won’t be for a long, long time) I think I will just direct them to this post instead. That would work, right?

sexy potato

I don’t know what you’re doing this weekend, but I bet my plans are stranger (and potentially stickier) than yours: I’m going on a secret road trip to visit the Sex Cauldron/Potato Farm as a photography assistant.


que sera sera

I’ve been giving some thought to what I’m going to be if when (optimism for the win) I get a new job. Being an Astronaut has soured for me, so I need to find a new code profession for what I do.

Job titles I am considering:

  • Farmer’s Daughter – Milking cows, de-egging chickens, having sex with strangers in the hay. Life could be worse.
  • Rock Flautist – Think Jethro Tull or the chick from the Polyphonic Spree. I’ve never played a flute before in my life, but the title “Rock Flautist” makes me giggle.
  • Executive Butter Churner – If I’m going to churn butter, you better believe I’m going to do it at the highest level possible
  • Secret Secret Agent – So secret, the other agents don’t know I exist!
  • Rogue ADAM Harvester – I spent the morning playing Bioshock, and frankly, those sea slugs look like they might be good on toast
  • Verbal Gymnast – Back flip! Cartwheel! Naked somersault! Handspring!
  • Professional Forum Troll – It’s a hard market to break into; there are already so many pros out there
  • Gordon Freeman – I don’t think I’ve ever wielded a crowbar, but I assume I would be excellent at it. The facial hair and silence might pose some challenges, though
  • You – I was Time’s Person of the Year for 2006. Why isn’t this on my resume yet?

I think I may need to give this some more thought.

25 years ago you really pissed me off

Confidential to the woman who wouldn’t lend me a ladder as an 8-year old, saying “No dear, because I’m pregnant – there’s a baby in my belly”: My question was “do you have a ladder I could borrow because I’m locked out of my house”, not “would you like to ride bikes with me and try this wine I found”. Also, I was 8 and not 4 – I knew damn well you were pregnant, and what that meant. I needed a LADDER, not a retelling of Waiting for Baby. You suck.

This old memory resurfaced last night as I was trying to fall asleep, and I felt it really needed to be addressed. My indignation at being talked down to was almost as fresh as it was the day I left my keys in my other jacket and couldn’t get into the house after school; proof that I hold onto my grudges for WAY too long. I did eventually get into the house though, without a ladder – all it took was a screwdriver to pry the screen off the window to the den, and I crawled on through. I really fucked up the window, though. My dad wasn’t very impressed with that, even after I had tried to fix my damage with a hammer. I had to PEE! What else was I supposed to do, wait the 2+ hours until someone came home to rescue me? I loved being a latchkey kid, though. I got into so much trouble my parents never found out about in the few hours I was left to my own devices each day.

Crap and hell – I’m checking up on my references, and I can’t find one of them. Space Boss Charlie, my boss from the original Space Station, appears to be missing. Space Boss Charlie was awesome to work for and he promised to give me a super duper reference, which I still need. Even the internet is failing me on this one. This is why everyone should have an overly detailed blog, people. How am I supposed to go all Private Eye on your asses if you don’t make it easy for me?

I am waiting for UPS. They apparently have a package for me that I owe $6.78 on, and I don’t know what it is. I love presents, even if I more than likely bought it for myself. The mailman is here too, but he went next door first. I am sure he has goodies for me because I’ve gone on another online shopping spree to cheer myself up. Also, I just love getting things in the mail like the fancy rainbow styli below.

This life of leisure thing sure is boring.


ground control to major tom: tsk tsk

In theory, the Space Saga will be officially, finally, completely closed by the end of this week.

I received a phone call last night from the Space Boss. They did in fact receive my paperwork, and he had been authorized to go ahead and pay the amount I feel is owed to me.

Score one for the little round girl!

While I am relived that this doesn’t need to go any further, I am both amused and a little incredulous (more so than usual). It seems the Space Board is disappointed that I took this route, and felt that it was premature for me to have done so. Also, they’re doing me a big favour by just paying me off because, and I quote, “I’ve been through this before – I won 4 claims and lost 1, and believe me, you don’t want this to go to the government”. Well then. Thanks awfully for acknowledging my claim that you’ve been (through no ill will or intent, he said) acting against the BC Employment Standards Act since day one and – wait – did you just admit that this is the SIXTH TIME someone has found your actions as an employer to be unfair, insane, and ultimately illegal?!?? Damn, maybe they really DID do me a huge favour by just cutting my tether and letting me go.

I had to send an email stating that we discussed this, and once I receive the cheque, it will completely sever all and any contracts I may have had with the Space Station. Fine by me – as I told Ed last night, even if they came back next week with a thousand things for me to do, I don’t want to work for that company any longer. Not only do I not trust them, there are a lot of residual bad feelings there and I’d basically be giving them a hall pass to continue to treat me like shit for all eternity. No thank you – I might be submissive, but I’m not an idiot.

Of course, once the cheque arrives I get to file for EI and explain to THAT government why I don’t have a Record of Employment and haven’t paid into the fund for the last 18 months. How many governments can I sic on the Space Station, anyway? It would be a lot easier if I could just get another job – a real one this time please – and not have to file for anything. I’ve been throwing resumes at anything that even remotely looks like I might be able to do or fake, so here’s hoping. I could use some good luck, please. If you have any to spare, send it my way!

Have you ever wondered what a conversation with me would sound like in real life? The first panel of today’s Diesel Sweeties pretty much sums it up perfectly, almost eerily so. I am not at all convinced that the very cute rstevens has not been listening in on my conversations both with Ed and myself.

mission over

It’s cute that I keep a blog!

It’s cuter that I am very detailed, have no shame, tend to document every outrage ever committed against my person, and keep *everything*!

I’m currently documenting every shady thing that’s happened since I started this hellish job, and on Monday I will take Dearheart’s advice and trundle my butt and corresponding documentation down to the Ministry of Labour and Citizens’ Services Employment Standards Branch and see what unfolds. It’s kind of cathartic, writing all this down in an official way. I’m feeling much better than I was yesterday. Sticking it to The Man is like tasty candy!

This is the end of my astronauting, though. When I get a new job (oh, the power of positive thinking), I’ll find another euphemism for what I do. I’ve been using astronaut for over three years, and both times it’s ended horribly. I don’t care if the third time is the charm; fool me twice shame on me and other assorted folkisms. I’m upbeat! I’m perky! I’m not going to eat nothing but ice cream for the 3rd day in a row!

This ad claims to feature “the most sophisticated piece of technology you will ever pee on”. Funny, but totally untrue – they have no idea what kind of things I’ve peed on. Now, if the ad said “the most sophisticated piece of technology you were SUPPOSED to pee on” – well, that’s different.

the wreck of the ss taco

Okay so I’ve tried really hard to be upbeat for the last couple days both for my own sanity and also to make sure Ed doesn’t freak out and worry that we’ll soon be homeless, but today I am just plumb out of cheer.

I’ve always felt I was being screwed over at the Space Station, but now that I’m facing unemployment it’s become startlingly clear just how large a pickle I am now in.

Things weighing heavily on my mind:

  • I don’t get a Record of Employment, as I wasn’t technically employed
  • I wasn’t taxed, so I didn’t pay into EI
  • They just gave me a new contract stating I’m a consultant who works when work is available and that I wasn’t ever an employee
  • I’ve been removed from the support email group so I can’t help our clients or do any work (ie claim any hours)
  • I’m the only one of the three people who were NOT made “real” employees who is not getting any work
  • I’ve been applying for jobs left and right, but as true to my nature since I don’t have a job after two days of looking I am in full panic mode that I’ll never get another job
  • I’m more like my mother than I thought – replace “job” with “apartment”, and I’m exhibiting the exact behaviour she demonstrated in May that had me so incredulous and baffled
  • I don’t know what I’m going to do
  • So I’m sitting here sobbing pathetically
  • I miss my dad
  • I both love and hate the month of September

Oh, hell. What am I going to do?

i love the smell of tangents in the morning

Ed and I didn’t end up going to Quattro for dinner last night, but not because it was closed (we had planned to go to the North Shore location all along), or because we were afraid of being shot at (we live in the Ghetto of North Vancouver; it’s a fact of life) – we didn’t go because I don’t really have a job.

I’m not being sarcastic this time; I really don’t. I sent a Come to Jesus (what does that mean, anyway? I honestly don’t know; I just enjoy the visual of asking my boss to meet me at the Jesus for some coffee and a scone) email to my boss asking what the hell was going on, and promptly (well, a couple hours later) found out many interesting things like there’s trouble afoot and hours are being slashed and executives are taking pay cuts and people are being let go and also all projects are on hold so um there’s really no work for me to do.

Well then. I was also told to take anything else that might come along, was guaranteed a good reference, and they’ll keep me posted if anything comes up for me to do. In the meantime, I have about three weeks of work I can bill for, and .. that’s about it. Oh, and the support system I worked so very hard to build up and make our clients love us for was scaled back to the pre-me state of the president or vice president will get back to you on that when they have time.

With all that news fresh in my ear, neither Ed nor I felt very good about spending a lot of money on a fancy dinner, tenth anniversary or not.

However, the evening wasn’t a wash by any means. Josh and I scooted to the Vespa shop to meet up with Ed and Shan’s newly tuned Scarabeo, and then we scooted around town for a bit smelling the below-mentioned smells and having an excellent time. We met up with Miranda and Reilly, and the 6 of us scooted to go have a look at a Mitsubishi Delica that Josh has his eye on. Afterwards, we all went to Da-De-O’s for some amazing food (some of which was on FIRE) and many laughs and good times before we all scooted to our respective homes for sleepings. So, while Ed and I didn’t get gourmet Italian food, we DID get to hang out with our favourite people, eat some deliciously filling tasty things, and spend a good third of what we would have spent had we stuck to our original plan. Besides, our Fifthiversary is coming up next week and we’re going away for fun and romance and island adventures.

A silver lining is not at all second best when silver is obviously so much more awesome than gold.

I couldn’t sleep last night though, which means my stress-induced insomnia is returning. The Skunk Jamboree certainly didn’t help either – it was so bad I had to leave the bedroom, and the living room was only slightly less foul. When is skunk season over? Far away skunk isn’t so bad, but when they’re doing that anal scent gland thing basically under your bedroom window, something has to be done. Do gorillas eat skunks? I could get some gorillas for the neighbourhood; put them in uniforms and let them patrol the area.

I do not enjoy being able to taste anyone’s stink, with or without fear of being infected by it. I am not Agent Elrond. You’ve failed me yet again, Starscream. LEFT CHEEK! LEFT CHEEK! LEFT CHEEK!

Hee! Who needs a job when I crack myself so consistently up?

something wrong with the universe

I’m unclean! UNCLEAN!

At least, that’s what I’m assuming. Do you know how long it’s been since anyone at my “job” has talked to me? Over a week. I’m not welcome in the office, no one talks to me, and I busted my ass last week to meet a deadline that has since been ignored. Sure, working from home is a dream. It just flows a lot better when people actually talk to you.

I also think they told all my clients I’m not there anymore. This is mostly good – remember, I hate people – but I DID have some favourite clients who just sort of disappeared on me without a word. I’ve been sending out some emails to see if I’m still alive or if perhaps I’ve been trapped in some sort of static warp bubble. I did think it was strange that Dalen Quaice would drop in on me unannounced, but since I don’t have a talking computer that tells me the universe is only 705 meters in diameter, I have no real way of knowing.

Sorry – it’s been a while since I’ve gone off on a too-detailed nerd tangent, and I felt I had some ground to make up.

Okay, one more: Darmok and Jalad at Tenagra!!!11one

My paranoia does get in the way of real life sometimes, though. For instance, my client just emailed me back – he wasn’t told to stay away from me or bribed with hand jobs in addition to sub-par service, he just took an extra week of vacation. Dang. Apparently, not everything is steeped in treachery to make some spicy conspiracy tea.

Still, I’m not happy. I never thought I’d miss other people, but I do. I am a lousy hermit. I’m also still struggling with my pariah status. Perhaps it’s time to do something about it, because complaining on the internet certainly isn’t getting my anywhere. I’m sure there are people out there somewhere who would appreciate me for who I am and what I can do .. I just need to find them, is all.

the postman always buzzes twice

Today is a good day to be staring out the window, waiting for the postman. He brought me not one or two but THREE of the things I was waiting for! He knows I’m waiting for things and also that I work from home, so he buzzes to let me know he’s here although that is quite unnecessary since gazing out the window is pretty much my job these days. Hooray! I am rolling around in the fruits of my internet labours!

The weekend turned out to be pretty good. On Friday night I coerced the gang into scooting to Richmond to go to the Night Market, as I had an itch that only meat on a stick could scratch. The ride down was a little traumatic – tempers flew much faster than Shan’s Scarabeo – but good times were had and the ride back was great fun.

Saturday was a lazy day; the weather threatened to ooze unmentionables all over us so scooting was out. We did not do much of anything – Ed and I wandered around an uninspiring Metrotown, then came home to nap and kill zombies. Sunday was looking to be much of the same, but the sun came out full force so I dragged Ed downtown for a scoot. I’d been wanting to check out Portobello West for some time, and with the lure of a Home Depot right next door, I was able to spend some time wandering around the designer wares untethered. Normally that would be dangerous, except I spent a great deal more money once Ed put in his appearance rather than being all sneaky and doing it while he was out perusing caulk across the street. My lust for gorgeous things well sated, we scooted to the beach for some ice cream and people watching before heading home for a relaxing evening of more zombies and scooter washing. Productive, sort of, but more importantly, fun.

I had a mild space-related panic attack last night. I am really not coping well with being actively loathed across the board, but some days are worse than others. Today I will bury myself in proposals and scented creams and try not let things bother me so much. For someone who is so universally thick-headed, I sure do have some awfully thin skin.

This week: Sushi! The PNE! Long distance scooter adventures! The start of Anniversary Month! YAY!