Sometimes, a girl's gotta wonder

I had an extremely odd email conversation the other day, with a friend who is also involved in my special project:

Me: So you want to divide our total price by 1.05, which would give the net amount, if we were charging GST. Since we're not, the gross price and the net price are the same. The ticket people should be able to make that adjustment. I can talk to them directly if you want.

Him: ... I breathe easier with you in the pilot's seat. You're sort of like a decongestant - if you get the metaphor. It was coined with much love.

Me: Geez, I've never been compared favourably a nasal spray before. You really know how to sweet-talk a girl.

Him: No - not a nasal spray - decongestant - someone who decongests, cuts through the bullshit, eliminates red tape, slays dragons that get in the way, that sort of thing - real, live, hero-type stuff! See, now if I had said "antihistamine", that would be different. Or, God forbid, laxative. Although a laxative does make things go smoother.....

Me: Yes, a laxative is not quite the same compliment, but I've frequently been told I'm a pain in the ass. In my profession, it's a necessary trait.

Him: If the shoe fits...

A current favourite

This is one of my favourite songs right now:

Feast, by Quinzy



Yes, I like a Christmas song. Sue me.

Also, these boys are local. If I was as hip as I used to be, I would totally make a play for any one of them (we will not mention how they are way, way too young for me).

Victorious!

Does anyone else remember that Duran Duran song? Probably not. It was past their hey-day (though John Taylor hasn't aged so well, I will love him until the day I die). They've never been the same since Andy left.

Anyway, today was the day. My internal auditing exam marks were released. You may recall, I struggled with this course. I blogged about it here, here, here and here.

In all honesty, I'd forgotten about it, until I got the email saying "Pay your bill so you can see your mark!"

So, at 8:30 this morning, I keyed in my credit card number to pay the damn $20, and then clicked on "statement of marks."

70%. I passed. I will never, ever have to deal with writing an audit report again. Thank Dog.

You can keep your $54.

I've been more than a little obsessed, the last couple days, about the budget. Passing the budget means that we don't have an election.

I'm tired of elections.

I'm also tired of a Prime Minister who acts more like a dictator, doesn't want to listen to anyone else, who has such a stranglehold on his party that no one dare oppose him on the record, who hasn't let his party groom anyone to replace him, in the event that he resigns.

Now, I was very excited about the possibility of a coalition, and I recognize that lots of people were unhappy with that. My fondest hope is to see the NDP become the Official Opposition. A coalition moved that dream closer to reality. Not gonna happen now, and that's OK. I'll put on my big girl panties and deal with it.

So, in the interest of being open-minded, I took at look at that 350+ page document and did some quick math.

Given the reduction in the tax rate, and the fact that I don't intend to spend more than $1,000 on home renovations (unless my toilet falls through the floor), it means that I will save approximately $56.

Hmmm. $87 billion deficit and $56 comes to me.

Mr. Prime Minister? You can keep your lousy $56. I don't think you've done the math.

Meh.

I mentioned to Bossman today that I hoped to work on my multiple choice questions while listening the budget coverage.

He asked me how my course was going.

I told him that I was finding it difficult to be engaged in the material.

The discussion group people are nice, the material isn't that difficult. It kind of sucks that our questions are case studies, something that I always struggle with.... the problem was that I'm not angry about something! There's no issue that I violently disagree with! The lecturer hasn't pissed me off (probably because I haven't gone to a lecture, I've been streaming online instead). I don't have a study buddy to argue with.

I have no negative emotional attachment to this course, and therefore, I don't care. Get me good and steaming mad, though, and I'll read every paper, parse every post, write a position paper on the issue I believe in.

Sucks. I wish this course were more like politics. Then I'd be engaged, that's for sure.

Why didn't anyone tell me?

A friend graciously drove me to Costco tonight. I had exactly three things on my list (cucumbers, bell peppers and wine-kits, if you are that interested).

But, you know how Costco is. You have to go up and down every aisle, just to see what is out there. You know, loud Hawaiian shirts, TaiBo dvds (6 for $18.99!) and all the other awesomely low-priced crap that you would never look at in any other store.

You know where this is going, right? My friend pointed out some yoga pants that she had purchased and found comfortable. So, I tossed a package into the cart.

Well. I'm wearing them right now, and I can say, without exaggeration, these are the most comfortable pants I've ever worn in my life.

In fact, they are so comfortable that I dragged out my yoga stuff. I wonder how long this inspiration will last?

I'll get going on that, right after I do this week's assignment.

I never thought I would ever have to say this:

Please help me open this jar.

That's right, super strong, always capable, she'd-rather-hire-it-out-than-ask-for-help-Misstea cannot open a jar of pickled asparagus.

I've run hot water over the lid, banged it with a butter knife, done all the things we are supposed to do.

I'm one week away from taking it to the pub and letting the boys have a go at it. I'm that desperate. I really would like to enjoy a Caesar with pickled asparagus. Far superior to celery.

Wardrobe Malfunction

I'm hosting an event tomorrow night. An event where it is expected that we dress up. For an organization that celebrates the female form (in a safe environment, don't worry). Among other things. But, a good looking woman always gives the audience a jolt. And if we are lucky, a good laugh.

I don't have anything to wear. I'm just glad that it's warm enough to wear my new (knee-length, I'm a prude) skirt.

Also, I guess I should wash my hair. Because if am going to look good, my country-singer big hair is going to have to do all the work.

Something different

I'm breaking out of my standard sock rut. With a garter rib.

Wild and crazy times here at Chez Peepee. Someone call the cops.

For my reference: 68sts, 2.25 mm needles, 2.5" k1tbl p1 rib, standard heel flap begun at 8" (ending on row 4 of pattern) over 30 sts.... to be continued.

Oops! Sorry about that, motorized vehicle

If it weren't for a comfortably middle class income, I would be one of the smelly vagrants stopping traffic in the middle of downtown.

You see, I have a lot on my mind. I'm always rushing to somewhere, or from somewhere, and quite often, I've had a drink or six.

I do know that I should look both ways before crossing the street, or at least check for the flashy hand.

But sometimes (as is an hour ago), I finish crossing and hear a car whoosh behind me. Meaning that I crossed against the light.

Oops, sorry about that. Does it help that I have no actual memory of looking, crossing or walking? Because I'm all busy thinking about the audio lecture I have to listen to, the event I'm coordinating on Thursday, and the delightful spaghetti squash I'm roasting for dinner?

I thought not.

But still, I'm sorry. Just be grateful I don't have a car. I'm a pedestrian for a reason.

POWN'd that deadline!

That's right, I POWN'd it.

I have a friend, and I thought that her birthday was at the end of January. Then I figured out that her birthday is tomorrow.

Shhhiiit.

So, what did I do? I speed-knit a pair of socks. I worked on them very diligently for a week, and even knit several inches successfully, in a dark bar, under the influence of several beer. It was going well, until I counted my stitches an inch after finishing the second gusset. Three extra. Unacceptable.

So, with three hours to go before catching the bus to meet her for coffee, I ripped:

I finished those socks in Starbucks, and presented them to her. I was very cool, and never even dropped a hint that they were for her, as I was working on them.

I'm not the Supreme Sock Goddess for nothing, doncha know.

(P.S. Wash them before you wear them - I tried to keep the cats away, but who knows what they do when I am sleeping).

(P.P.S. The pizza and beer was awesome! Let's do that again.)

You know it's cold when

the two hipster kids that you've seen at the bus stop, every day, for the past two years, with their perfectly-coiffed, full-of-product hair, are wearing their hoods.

Just enough to cover their ears, mind, and not mess with the bangs.

........................................................................

Thank ceiling cat, FSM and what ever other deity out there, I have gotten over being cool, and now prefer to be warm (and may I say, when I curl my hair, it looks quite smart, flipping out from under my stripey, hand-knit hat).

It's not as it seems

I'm in Bossman's office, filing the December financial reports (he knows how much filing things properly makes me happy)...

Bossman: So, Misstea, what are your plans for the weekend?

Me: I've got a hot and heavy date..

Bossman: Really?

Me: with a textbook. Rock 'n roll single girl, eh?

Bossman: Oh.

Stalled

right before the finish line.

This is Jr. J's sweater, supposedly for his first Christmas. Like he cares. If I don't get it finished soon, he won't fit into it (I made the 6-9 month size, and he's barely three months old!).

All the knitting is done. I blocked it on New Year's Eve. So, why haven't I sewn the damn thing up? Well, because I've never actually grafted ribbing before. Damn, I'll have to practise what I preach, and work on the swatches that I make everyone else work on when I teach.

Wish me luck.

Yarn therapy

What a sucktastic day.

It started out OK, but in the afternoon, it all went downhill. I started working on my assignment, only to discover that apparently, I know nothing about IT strategic decision-making (no big surprise there, but I thought I would at least be able to bull-shit about something).

Then I discovered that the online discussion that I thought began next week actually begins tomorrow. There are all ready 25 posts, and I haven't even read the material.

But wait! It gets better. I left the office at 5:40, intending to catch the 5:50 bus downtown. Plenty of time. I was standing at the light, waiting to cross, at 5:46, when the bus went flying down the street. Didn't even have a chance to wave (not that the driver would have seen me).

The next bus came at 6:36. That's right, a 50 minute wait. I phoned transit, and spoke to a real live person, and she said there was a general 19 minute delay (Umn, 5:46 to 6:36 is a wee bit more than 19 minutes. Math. Ur doin it rong!).

The thing that chaps my ass is that the website, which I shut down at about 5:38, said nothing about a delay. Also, if I had been walking, I would have been where I wanted to be on time, instead of just getting downtown.

From downtown, I walked, because there were no buses in sight, and my feet hadn't even barely begun to thaw. A bus stopped, just as I was crossing the street where I would have gotten off (I resisted the urge to flip the driver the bird. 'Cuz I'm nice that way.)

That's right, in Winnipeg, where wind chills regularly hit below 40 degrees C, one is better off walking.

You can bet your bottom dollar that I will be blasting the transit supervisor when my complaint call is returned.

So, when I finally got to knit night, I indulged in some yarn therapy. Two sweaters worth of Malabrigo worsted (in Strawberry Fields) and Manos. Clearly, I need the warm clothing, if I am going to continue being environmentally conscious and, well, cheap.

Screw you, Winnipeg Transit! I'm going to be at home, knitting, until spring, and then I will ride my bike!