Hello blogosphere! Working part-time is kicking my butt. I thought I was more resilient, but after working only 20 hours this week, I'm down with an annoying noisy cold. Lame! Who knew that suddenly breaking out of hermitude would expose me to lots of other people's germs. Ah well, I'm glad to have the job for now, and it's been going pretty well for the week I've been working. The people are friendly and helpful, the work is varied, the staff discount is pretty good...
The Man put a damper on an otherwise enjoyable week when I received a thinly veiled threat from the manager yesterday that I won't last long if I don't sell more credit cards to old ladies. Nice. Did I mention I've only been there a week? And I spent my entire last shift banished from the shop floor in a stock room unpacking boxes? (i.e. not interacting with any customers, so not selling any credit cards). I suspect the manager gave this vague warning to all the new temps, since I don't think I'm the only one in this situation. Still. Intimidation tactics don't really motivate me, as much as I'm desperate for the paycheck - I just feel slightly annoyed at the management / the entire capitalist system, really. I'm often annoyed at the system, so that's nothing new. (Perhaps retail is the wrong industry for me. Ya think? :P). Meh. Here's hoping they keep me on until my contract ends in January, so I can have a few pennies in my pocket until then.
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
People are Jerks; or, Running Update
I know I've been venting a lot of negativity around here lately, which isn't exactly super fun. I hope isn't driving people away! I promise there will be more sunshine and rainbows next week. (Or at least, more knitting.) But I had an experience yesterday that I feel I have to talk about somewhere, so excuse me while I get a little introspective/rantypants/outraged feminist once more.
Running-wise, Week 5 has been going really well. After the physical difficulty of Week 4, I was pleasantly surprised to find I enjoyed the first workout of Week 5. Maybe I've found a good pace, or last week was a hump I had to get over. Maybe Week 6 will be really difficult again. I don't know. I'm trying to hold onto how good I felt while doing the first two workouts of Week 5, because at the end of my run yesterday something happened that soured the whole running experience. I'm supposed to go running tomorrow, and I shouldn't let myself quit over one thing, but everything irrational in me is telling me not to go out tomorrow.
I usually run on a busy bike path. Whenever I've been out, there are people walking their dogs, riding bikes, pushing strollers, sitting on benches reading, and running. Although I wouldn't want to be alone there at night, during the day it's not very isolated and I've never felt uncomfortable or unsafe.
Yesterday, towards the end of my workout, I passed a group of teenaged boys. The two I passed were on foot, and one was on a bike up ahead. As I passed them I heard one of them say something inappropriate. I ignored it, not sure I'd heard correctly, not sure it was even directed at me, and kept going. Because I was walking at this point, I wasn't going much faster than they were, so they remained not far behind me.
It soon became clear that they were talking about me. They exchanged lewd remarks about my body, calling out to make sure I heard them. They started singing an out-of-tune parody of a pop song, with the lyrics changed to refer to my various body parts. They called back their friend on the bicycle, saying "Come here, I want to show you something," and as he cycled back towards them, "What do you think of the *insert lewd comment here* on that one?" All three of them took up the chorus again. The one on the bike came back and circled me, addressing me directly with his taunts.
I thought about starting to run again to get away from them more quickly, but I didn't want them to think I was feeling nervous or threatened - I worried they might give chase. So I did not respond, made up scathing retorts in my head that I would never say, and kept walking as they hurled abuse.
Eventually, I passed a couple with a dog going the opposite way, and I think the assholes fell back a bit. They started their harassment at a point when the four of us were alone, and nobody else was in earshot. Once more people appeared, they no longer called out to me. I'm not sure exactly when they stopped following me, since I didn't look behind me - I didn't want to acknowledge their presence. They had stopped by the time I left the bike path, and I made sure they didn't follow me home.
As sexual harassment goes, this was pretty mild, but it ruined my day and my workout, and I'm not feeling at all enthusiastic about going running tomorrow. When the cyclist was circling me and the two losers behind me were taunting, I felt the tiniest approximation of what it might feel like to be swarmed. There were only three of them, after all, but three idiot teenagers together will do more than one idiot teenager alone. I find myself completely unable to relate to people like that. What makes them think it's okay to ridicule other people?
I am not ashamed of my body, and I don't want to give anyone else the satisfaction of making me feel uncomfortable, but the whole situation left me a bit rattled.
I will probably run somewhere else if I go tomorrow. At the beginning of this exercise, I wanted to convince myself that running was an enjoyable and worthy activity. Just when I was starting to enjoy the exercise part, some losers came and made it suck. I hope I can make it good again.
Running-wise, Week 5 has been going really well. After the physical difficulty of Week 4, I was pleasantly surprised to find I enjoyed the first workout of Week 5. Maybe I've found a good pace, or last week was a hump I had to get over. Maybe Week 6 will be really difficult again. I don't know. I'm trying to hold onto how good I felt while doing the first two workouts of Week 5, because at the end of my run yesterday something happened that soured the whole running experience. I'm supposed to go running tomorrow, and I shouldn't let myself quit over one thing, but everything irrational in me is telling me not to go out tomorrow.
I usually run on a busy bike path. Whenever I've been out, there are people walking their dogs, riding bikes, pushing strollers, sitting on benches reading, and running. Although I wouldn't want to be alone there at night, during the day it's not very isolated and I've never felt uncomfortable or unsafe.
Yesterday, towards the end of my workout, I passed a group of teenaged boys. The two I passed were on foot, and one was on a bike up ahead. As I passed them I heard one of them say something inappropriate. I ignored it, not sure I'd heard correctly, not sure it was even directed at me, and kept going. Because I was walking at this point, I wasn't going much faster than they were, so they remained not far behind me.
It soon became clear that they were talking about me. They exchanged lewd remarks about my body, calling out to make sure I heard them. They started singing an out-of-tune parody of a pop song, with the lyrics changed to refer to my various body parts. They called back their friend on the bicycle, saying "Come here, I want to show you something," and as he cycled back towards them, "What do you think of the *insert lewd comment here* on that one?" All three of them took up the chorus again. The one on the bike came back and circled me, addressing me directly with his taunts.
I thought about starting to run again to get away from them more quickly, but I didn't want them to think I was feeling nervous or threatened - I worried they might give chase. So I did not respond, made up scathing retorts in my head that I would never say, and kept walking as they hurled abuse.
Eventually, I passed a couple with a dog going the opposite way, and I think the assholes fell back a bit. They started their harassment at a point when the four of us were alone, and nobody else was in earshot. Once more people appeared, they no longer called out to me. I'm not sure exactly when they stopped following me, since I didn't look behind me - I didn't want to acknowledge their presence. They had stopped by the time I left the bike path, and I made sure they didn't follow me home.
As sexual harassment goes, this was pretty mild, but it ruined my day and my workout, and I'm not feeling at all enthusiastic about going running tomorrow. When the cyclist was circling me and the two losers behind me were taunting, I felt the tiniest approximation of what it might feel like to be swarmed. There were only three of them, after all, but three idiot teenagers together will do more than one idiot teenager alone. I find myself completely unable to relate to people like that. What makes them think it's okay to ridicule other people?
I am not ashamed of my body, and I don't want to give anyone else the satisfaction of making me feel uncomfortable, but the whole situation left me a bit rattled.
I will probably run somewhere else if I go tomorrow. At the beginning of this exercise, I wanted to convince myself that running was an enjoyable and worthy activity. Just when I was starting to enjoy the exercise part, some losers came and made it suck. I hope I can make it good again.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Rethinking rejection
I got a phone call a while back that made me really hopeful my job search was coming to an end and that I'd soon have a 5-month contract working in my field. I sent off passport photocopies to prove my eligibility to work in this country, and I ticked boxes and signed forms. That seemed like a good sign. No other job I've applied for has made it to that stage. Alas, after waiting for over a week, I contacted the agency and was told they wanted someone with more experience. Fair enough. I'm in that between stage after being copiously over-educated but before starting a career where I'm not experienced enough to get jobs that will give me experience in my field so I can get jobs in my field. Unfortunately, I'm also apparently not experienced enough to get shitty temp work not in my field so I can make a little money and get health coverage while I'm at it. Whoever said that temping was a good way to get into the work force lied, or didn't have to deal with postings for data entry operators requiring 2-3 years experience in a similar role.
I am well aware that this is a shitty economy, and that lots of people are stuck in my situation, but I'm still pretty disappointed. Each rejection I get makes me rethink my approach, and I'm becoming convinced that I am going about it all wrong, although I'm not exactly sure how to fix it. I've got volunteer work, but I can't fill all my time with unpaid work if I want time for paid work...
Although the time for funemployment is long past, I need to start taking advantage of my free time and start having fun again between job applications. Preferably in the cheapest ways possible, since I don't have any income. With that, I pledge to go to more museums, wander around discovering more parts of the city I haven't seen yet, take lots of photos, go cycling, undertake epic baking experiments, put more knitting design ideas to paper, and generally spend less time feeling sorry for myself. Despite myself I've bought into the idea that I'm useless as long as I'm unemployed, and as I watch my savings dwindle, it's easy to feel that I'm inferior to others with more spending power. But that way lies madness, and if I continue with these thoughts the capitalists have won.
I am well aware that this is a shitty economy, and that lots of people are stuck in my situation, but I'm still pretty disappointed. Each rejection I get makes me rethink my approach, and I'm becoming convinced that I am going about it all wrong, although I'm not exactly sure how to fix it. I've got volunteer work, but I can't fill all my time with unpaid work if I want time for paid work...
Although the time for funemployment is long past, I need to start taking advantage of my free time and start having fun again between job applications. Preferably in the cheapest ways possible, since I don't have any income. With that, I pledge to go to more museums, wander around discovering more parts of the city I haven't seen yet, take lots of photos, go cycling, undertake epic baking experiments, put more knitting design ideas to paper, and generally spend less time feeling sorry for myself. Despite myself I've bought into the idea that I'm useless as long as I'm unemployed, and as I watch my savings dwindle, it's easy to feel that I'm inferior to others with more spending power. But that way lies madness, and if I continue with these thoughts the capitalists have won.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Boo universe! Boo!
I can't get the hang of the last few days. I've been trying and trying to start a quick project for the last few days now that I've finished Decimal, but each time I try something gets in the way. Went to the yarn store yesterday to buy needles and they were closed. Went again today, and they had run out of 2.00 mm dpns. Impatiently yanked my 2.25 mm dpns out of my long-suffering Jaywalkers (2nd heel is turned at least!), only to find out that the yarn I though I had with me is still in Ottawa. Start anyway with other yarn which turns out to be very difficult to work with. Put it down again. Getting down to the wire...
On top of the knitting frustration, I have a broken toe. Technically I broke my toe three weeks ago, so I've been dealing with limpy foot for the last 3 weeks, but I got official confirmation of this yesterday.
Everyone has their own hospital waiting room story, and now I have mine.
Still limping after having tripped over the leg of the futon two weeks before, I went to the Student Health Centre to get it looked at. The doctor said it could be broken or sprained, but either way there wasn't much to be done about it. Stay off your foot as much as possible and have an x-ray to make sure. So I went in for the x-ray on Wednesday.
On Friday I got a call from the health centre while I was in class. I was in class until after the office closed for the weekend, so I left a message. On Monday, the nurse called again while I was in class. I called back right after class and left another message. Since they had told me they wouldn't bother calling me if my toe was only sprained, I figured at this point it must be broken.
When I finally spoke to the nurse she told me I had a fractured metatarsal and needed to go to the hospital to get a "boot." Indeed. Now, I don't watch enough medical dramas to know off the top where the metatarsals are, so I said thank you and hung up. Looked it up on the internet and wondered what the deal was with that since if anything I thought my toe was broken. Whatever, I trust health professionals (or I DID... hah).
I told my evening class prof I might be late and went to the hospital. As I headed there from the university, I knew I was making several mistakes. One, no knitting with me - I don't usually bring it to campus. Two, no reading material - the "book" I'm reading right now is an audiobook on cd that resides in my bedroom, and all my course readings are on reserve in the library or online journal articles. Well, damn. But it couldn't be helped, since going home before going to the hospital would have been out of my way and taken up more time...
So yeah. A little over 3 hours in the waiting room later, after being told they'd probably have to do more x-rays but then not actually sending me for more x-rays, I saw a doctor. The nurse there looked confused and asked why they hadn't sent me from more x-rays here. Presumably they called someone about this because when the doctor came in he looked at me apologetically and said he was so sorry that the idiots at the student health centre had sent me here, since there's nothing they can do about a broken toe. But what about my supposedly broken metatarsal? I enquired. Someone misread the x-ray, he thinks. Blah!
Ultimately, I'm relieved that I don't have a fracture in a metatarsal and don't have to wear a "boot." Anyway, 3 hours in Urgent Care isn't so long - the people that showed up after me were looking at 4+ hour waits. I made it to my class on time in the evening, and now I have the certainty that my toe is broken so it's inadvisable to join the swing-dancing club. But damn, 3 hours in that waiting room without knitting or a book.
I'm okay with this being my stupid hospital story, and I hope I don't have a worse one to tell in the future. Now, as long as I didn't catch swine flu from anyone in that waiting room...
On top of the knitting frustration, I have a broken toe. Technically I broke my toe three weeks ago, so I've been dealing with limpy foot for the last 3 weeks, but I got official confirmation of this yesterday.
Everyone has their own hospital waiting room story, and now I have mine.
Still limping after having tripped over the leg of the futon two weeks before, I went to the Student Health Centre to get it looked at. The doctor said it could be broken or sprained, but either way there wasn't much to be done about it. Stay off your foot as much as possible and have an x-ray to make sure. So I went in for the x-ray on Wednesday.
On Friday I got a call from the health centre while I was in class. I was in class until after the office closed for the weekend, so I left a message. On Monday, the nurse called again while I was in class. I called back right after class and left another message. Since they had told me they wouldn't bother calling me if my toe was only sprained, I figured at this point it must be broken.
When I finally spoke to the nurse she told me I had a fractured metatarsal and needed to go to the hospital to get a "boot." Indeed. Now, I don't watch enough medical dramas to know off the top where the metatarsals are, so I said thank you and hung up. Looked it up on the internet and wondered what the deal was with that since if anything I thought my toe was broken. Whatever, I trust health professionals (or I DID... hah).
I told my evening class prof I might be late and went to the hospital. As I headed there from the university, I knew I was making several mistakes. One, no knitting with me - I don't usually bring it to campus. Two, no reading material - the "book" I'm reading right now is an audiobook on cd that resides in my bedroom, and all my course readings are on reserve in the library or online journal articles. Well, damn. But it couldn't be helped, since going home before going to the hospital would have been out of my way and taken up more time...
So yeah. A little over 3 hours in the waiting room later, after being told they'd probably have to do more x-rays but then not actually sending me for more x-rays, I saw a doctor. The nurse there looked confused and asked why they hadn't sent me from more x-rays here. Presumably they called someone about this because when the doctor came in he looked at me apologetically and said he was so sorry that the idiots at the student health centre had sent me here, since there's nothing they can do about a broken toe. But what about my supposedly broken metatarsal? I enquired. Someone misread the x-ray, he thinks. Blah!
Ultimately, I'm relieved that I don't have a fracture in a metatarsal and don't have to wear a "boot." Anyway, 3 hours in Urgent Care isn't so long - the people that showed up after me were looking at 4+ hour waits. I made it to my class on time in the evening, and now I have the certainty that my toe is broken so it's inadvisable to join the swing-dancing club. But damn, 3 hours in that waiting room without knitting or a book.
I'm okay with this being my stupid hospital story, and I hope I don't have a worse one to tell in the future. Now, as long as I didn't catch swine flu from anyone in that waiting room...
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
And I want to work for them this summer...
Politics alert!
In February, at the urging of the graduate student society, I did something I've never done before.
That's right, I emailed the prime minister. Ha! As if that's going to do any good, but I thought I might as well exercise my civic right in these troubled times.
I wrote an eloquent (ha!) email voicing my concerns over provisions for $87mil towards graduate scholarhips in the budget of which the extra 20% allocated for Social Science and Humanities grants would go entirely to business students. Outrageous! More business students sitting around arguing about the economy will not improve it, I say! Anyway, I sent off the email, and received a reply a week or perhaps more later from an aide saying my concerns had been forwarded to the minister in charge of the portfolio. They said it was Diane Finley, Minister of Human Resources Development etc etc whatever they call it these days, and I paid it no more attention.
Today I received an email from this particular minister's office saying that my concerns about scholarship money had been forwarded once more, this time to Tony Clement, the Industry Minister, and apparently the one who is actually responsible for the portfolio.
It appears nobody is quite sure who is doing what in this government. I certainly had no clue SSHRC fell under Industry until I looked it up today after receiving that unexpected email. Turns out Diane Finley's aides have some idea of what's going on, thought it's not clear why they sat on it for a month. I can only hope they had to sort through a deluge of concerned emails about Canadian Graduate Scholarships that got mistakenly sent to them by some loser in the PM's office.
Actually, I don't hope that. Not that it would do any good, since the budget passed and is rushing through all levels without much modification.
But my little voice got stalled in the ether for over a month due to the PMO's total incompetence. Help, help I'm being oppressed! I almost think it must have been intentional - misdirect the complaint and claim it never happened. ;)
In February, at the urging of the graduate student society, I did something I've never done before.
That's right, I emailed the prime minister. Ha! As if that's going to do any good, but I thought I might as well exercise my civic right in these troubled times.
I wrote an eloquent (ha!) email voicing my concerns over provisions for $87mil towards graduate scholarhips in the budget of which the extra 20% allocated for Social Science and Humanities grants would go entirely to business students. Outrageous! More business students sitting around arguing about the economy will not improve it, I say! Anyway, I sent off the email, and received a reply a week or perhaps more later from an aide saying my concerns had been forwarded to the minister in charge of the portfolio. They said it was Diane Finley, Minister of Human Resources Development etc etc whatever they call it these days, and I paid it no more attention.
Today I received an email from this particular minister's office saying that my concerns about scholarship money had been forwarded once more, this time to Tony Clement, the Industry Minister, and apparently the one who is actually responsible for the portfolio.
It appears nobody is quite sure who is doing what in this government. I certainly had no clue SSHRC fell under Industry until I looked it up today after receiving that unexpected email. Turns out Diane Finley's aides have some idea of what's going on, thought it's not clear why they sat on it for a month. I can only hope they had to sort through a deluge of concerned emails about Canadian Graduate Scholarships that got mistakenly sent to them by some loser in the PM's office.
Actually, I don't hope that. Not that it would do any good, since the budget passed and is rushing through all levels without much modification.
But my little voice got stalled in the ether for over a month due to the PMO's total incompetence. Help, help I'm being oppressed! I almost think it must have been intentional - misdirect the complaint and claim it never happened. ;)
Friday, October 17, 2008
Life Work Blah
I keep trying to convince myself that my perverse enjoyment of behind-the-scenes work justifies the bad times at my crappy job. Honestly, I'm mostly indifferent to the job, which is a whole other thing, but it has its ups and downs. Lately downs. I think it is because I've been working long shifts in order to get enough hours in this week. I made the mistake of taking the entire Thanksgiving weekend off, and then I worked at the Election on Tuesday for 14 hours.
The election was fun times, really. I've done that work twice before, and this time I was partnered with a jovial and talkative British ex-pat who pretty much entertained me the entire time with random anecdotes. So despite the length of the day, it didn't feel draggy most of the time, and hey - doing my civic duty to help the democratic process! Woot. (Again, my perverse enjoyment of things behind-the-scenes is at play here. Also I like getting paid).
But. Following a 14 hour work day with 6.5 hours of call centre the next day, and another 6.5 hours the day after that was a stupid stupid idea. I'm losing my mind. And the worst bit is, I'm working those same hours tonight, and then 4 hours on Saturday. I need to get better at scheduling myself. Eeesh.
For the first time since my first awful day at this job, yesterday I felt I just couldn't take it. Every task seemed stupider than anything anyone would ever be asked to do. I know that's irrational, but I sometimes think people here get by through comraderie in despair. Oh hey, that's the working world for ya. I guess. Whatever. I seethed on the way home and ranted at night, and went to bed feeling pissed off and unable to contemplate working again. Wow, emo. I'm not going to quit, since I know I'll quit before December anyway, but man - I definitely felt like it yesterday.
Getting paid yesterday didn't help, oddly enough. Instead of feeling proud of the money I'd made by doing stupid things all day, I felt demoralized that the last two weeks could be measured in $341. To be sure, I'm happy to have this money now that I'm sensing a disturbing trend towards consumerism in my desires, but... I'm probably thinking too much about this.
The election was fun times, really. I've done that work twice before, and this time I was partnered with a jovial and talkative British ex-pat who pretty much entertained me the entire time with random anecdotes. So despite the length of the day, it didn't feel draggy most of the time, and hey - doing my civic duty to help the democratic process! Woot. (Again, my perverse enjoyment of things behind-the-scenes is at play here. Also I like getting paid).
But. Following a 14 hour work day with 6.5 hours of call centre the next day, and another 6.5 hours the day after that was a stupid stupid idea. I'm losing my mind. And the worst bit is, I'm working those same hours tonight, and then 4 hours on Saturday. I need to get better at scheduling myself. Eeesh.
For the first time since my first awful day at this job, yesterday I felt I just couldn't take it. Every task seemed stupider than anything anyone would ever be asked to do. I know that's irrational, but I sometimes think people here get by through comraderie in despair. Oh hey, that's the working world for ya. I guess. Whatever. I seethed on the way home and ranted at night, and went to bed feeling pissed off and unable to contemplate working again. Wow, emo. I'm not going to quit, since I know I'll quit before December anyway, but man - I definitely felt like it yesterday.
Getting paid yesterday didn't help, oddly enough. Instead of feeling proud of the money I'd made by doing stupid things all day, I felt demoralized that the last two weeks could be measured in $341. To be sure, I'm happy to have this money now that I'm sensing a disturbing trend towards consumerism in my desires, but... I'm probably thinking too much about this.
Monday, August 11, 2008
tactics
Sometimes I lust after unsuitable sweaters. I look at a gorgeous empire-waisted construction, or a slouchy no-waisted, or cropped thing, and simultaneously think "I love this" and "I can't wear this."
I've always mistrusted tactics. Wear this to elongate your figure. Wear that to emphasize your waist/bust/shoulders. Wear that to draw attention away from your waist/bust/shoulders. Hide / show yourself with particular cuts and shapes. Cut your hair such a way to suggest that you have a heart-shaped rather than rectangular face. I keep thinking, why can't I wear what I want? Why should I try to distract the viewer? I may not have the proportions that are currently in style, but does that mean I should try to convince everyone that I do? The contradictory advice and directives don't help. And yet, I buy into it and occasionally seek it out. I wonder sometimes.
It's not that I'm unhappy with my body type - I have been, in the past, but I got over that. Yay, I like myself! Haha. But I'm not confident enough to tell the advisors to go to hell, it seems, because in all honesty I do want to look my best. Whatever that means. Despite all my life's training, I do sometimes care how other people see me, and on some level I believe the amorphous cultural "media" when they say that beautiful looks a particular way this week. Even though my conscious mind knows that's all bullshit. What it means is, if I have a suspicion that my body doesn't suit a particular shape, then I'll avoid it. In practice, this has meant avoiding anything remotely daring. Mostly that suits me fine: I'm a boring dresser. I haven't sold out enough that I don't wear what is comfortable. Comfort is imperative.
And yet, I wonder whether I need to change, now that I'm trying to get other people to take me seriously enough to hire me. And I wonder if taking even more care would make me a traitor to my lifestyle.
I've always mistrusted tactics. Wear this to elongate your figure. Wear that to emphasize your waist/bust/shoulders. Wear that to draw attention away from your waist/bust/shoulders. Hide / show yourself with particular cuts and shapes. Cut your hair such a way to suggest that you have a heart-shaped rather than rectangular face. I keep thinking, why can't I wear what I want? Why should I try to distract the viewer? I may not have the proportions that are currently in style, but does that mean I should try to convince everyone that I do? The contradictory advice and directives don't help. And yet, I buy into it and occasionally seek it out. I wonder sometimes.
It's not that I'm unhappy with my body type - I have been, in the past, but I got over that. Yay, I like myself! Haha. But I'm not confident enough to tell the advisors to go to hell, it seems, because in all honesty I do want to look my best. Whatever that means. Despite all my life's training, I do sometimes care how other people see me, and on some level I believe the amorphous cultural "media" when they say that beautiful looks a particular way this week. Even though my conscious mind knows that's all bullshit. What it means is, if I have a suspicion that my body doesn't suit a particular shape, then I'll avoid it. In practice, this has meant avoiding anything remotely daring. Mostly that suits me fine: I'm a boring dresser. I haven't sold out enough that I don't wear what is comfortable. Comfort is imperative.
And yet, I wonder whether I need to change, now that I'm trying to get other people to take me seriously enough to hire me. And I wonder if taking even more care would make me a traitor to my lifestyle.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
getting political and self-righteous
World news makes me angry. Politics infuriates me. Everything I hear and see about what's going on in the world depresses me, but I can't look away.
I can't look away because I know I shouldn't. It's my responsibility to be informed, or so I keep telling myself. I feel guilty if I spend a week away from the newspapers or the radio because I've witnessed the mind-bogglingly uninformed being ridiculous in public. Wow, could I be more elitist? Anyway.
As a citizen of a democracy, I need to know what the issues are; I need to know how I feel about them and what I should do. I frequently fail at that second part.
I feel like I need to know what is happening, but what is happening depresses me, and I don't know what to do about it other than be self-righteously whiny and indignant about everyone else's bullshit. Which isn't helpful. And vote occasionally, which isn't generally helpful either.
My current annoyance comes from the recent G8 decision on climate change, which some Canadian politicians are heralding as a significant step in the right direction - hold on, when did they start believing in climate change in the first place? I must have missed that part. Anyway, it's a decision that means nothing and binds no one. Cutting emissions by half by 2050 - well, okay. Now everyone is asking "Half of what?" and so am I. Ugh. It makes me crazy how politics is always about the next election and short-term costs and the economy. This has all been said before by more eloquent people, but it's completely unreasonable to leave all the tough work to the next administration.
So. To calm myself down I make plans for myself. I try to list all the things I can do myself without having to interact with anyone else, because we all know I'm not about to get involved in the political process. Climate change? We haven't turned our air conditioning on yet this summer and yesterday the humidity made it feel like 39 C. We keep our house relatively cool in the winter, and we're looking into getting a solar hot water heater. We just had a home energy audit that encouraged improvement in many areas. We hang our washing outside when it is sunny. We have fluorescent lights. I don't have a driving license; I walk or take the bus as my main forms of transportation, and if I get over my fear of traffic I'll start biking more. Self-righteous enough? Ouch. Clearly. The main black mark on my record is probably my air travel, and the travel that I generate by being in a long-distance relationship. More reason for me to secure legal means of living in the UK as soon as possible, I guess, in addition to the obvious emotional ones.
The little things one person or one family can do are not very significant, but I guess they aren't meaningless. While I occasionally take comfort in feeling superior to those who live less energy-efficient life styles out of ignorance or choice, my own pride does nothing to ease the global crisis. I feel pretty angry at people who don't share my opinion sometimes, especially when the world is at stake. That's a horrible thing to say, given I know many people object strongly to my opinions on lots of issues, and I recognize their right have hold most of those opposite opinions. But it's true - I'm angry.
Mostly I'm angry at those who have power for being too wrapped up in themselves to do anything that could make them unpopular with oil-hungry voters. But, for better or for worse, this is what democracy is. Sometimes that is comforting; other times it is terrifying.
In prettier news, here is dusk at the cottage.
I can't look away because I know I shouldn't. It's my responsibility to be informed, or so I keep telling myself. I feel guilty if I spend a week away from the newspapers or the radio because I've witnessed the mind-bogglingly uninformed being ridiculous in public. Wow, could I be more elitist? Anyway.
As a citizen of a democracy, I need to know what the issues are; I need to know how I feel about them and what I should do. I frequently fail at that second part.
I feel like I need to know what is happening, but what is happening depresses me, and I don't know what to do about it other than be self-righteously whiny and indignant about everyone else's bullshit. Which isn't helpful. And vote occasionally, which isn't generally helpful either.
My current annoyance comes from the recent G8 decision on climate change, which some Canadian politicians are heralding as a significant step in the right direction - hold on, when did they start believing in climate change in the first place? I must have missed that part. Anyway, it's a decision that means nothing and binds no one. Cutting emissions by half by 2050 - well, okay. Now everyone is asking "Half of what?" and so am I. Ugh. It makes me crazy how politics is always about the next election and short-term costs and the economy. This has all been said before by more eloquent people, but it's completely unreasonable to leave all the tough work to the next administration.
So. To calm myself down I make plans for myself. I try to list all the things I can do myself without having to interact with anyone else, because we all know I'm not about to get involved in the political process. Climate change? We haven't turned our air conditioning on yet this summer and yesterday the humidity made it feel like 39 C. We keep our house relatively cool in the winter, and we're looking into getting a solar hot water heater. We just had a home energy audit that encouraged improvement in many areas. We hang our washing outside when it is sunny. We have fluorescent lights. I don't have a driving license; I walk or take the bus as my main forms of transportation, and if I get over my fear of traffic I'll start biking more. Self-righteous enough? Ouch. Clearly. The main black mark on my record is probably my air travel, and the travel that I generate by being in a long-distance relationship. More reason for me to secure legal means of living in the UK as soon as possible, I guess, in addition to the obvious emotional ones.
The little things one person or one family can do are not very significant, but I guess they aren't meaningless. While I occasionally take comfort in feeling superior to those who live less energy-efficient life styles out of ignorance or choice, my own pride does nothing to ease the global crisis. I feel pretty angry at people who don't share my opinion sometimes, especially when the world is at stake. That's a horrible thing to say, given I know many people object strongly to my opinions on lots of issues, and I recognize their right have hold most of those opposite opinions. But it's true - I'm angry.
Mostly I'm angry at those who have power for being too wrapped up in themselves to do anything that could make them unpopular with oil-hungry voters. But, for better or for worse, this is what democracy is. Sometimes that is comforting; other times it is terrifying.
In prettier news, here is dusk at the cottage.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
back to old bad habits
I'm feeling the need to blog about nothing in particular since I'm once again writing essays. My summer course has vaguely kicked off and I hand in my first weekly paper tonight. "Evening" is such a non-specific deadline; I told myself it'd be done by 5, but perhaps I'll move that to 6. Ehhh. I find the material very interesting and it's totally different from all the stuff I spent this year doing that I hated, so yay! Somehow I feel like I want another few weeks off before school again. Alas.
The way I write essays or anything with a deadline is constant. I mean, I write and write until I have to hand it in or go to bed; usually the latter. Maybe it's good to constantly revise and redo, but sometimes I'm frustrated that nothing really ever gets finished. I mean, I finish it because I have to hand it in, but there's no definitive point when I know it is finished before then. Ah well.
I finished little pink sock #1, and it fits okay. Chugging away on the next one - will post pictures when they are both done.
The way I write essays or anything with a deadline is constant. I mean, I write and write until I have to hand it in or go to bed; usually the latter. Maybe it's good to constantly revise and redo, but sometimes I'm frustrated that nothing really ever gets finished. I mean, I finish it because I have to hand it in, but there's no definitive point when I know it is finished before then. Ah well.
I finished little pink sock #1, and it fits okay. Chugging away on the next one - will post pictures when they are both done.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
blah!
The internet is not being too good to me right now, so it's time for an angry rant. I'm excessively annoyed at the prospect of phoning First Great Western long distance in order to get them to sort out my stupid credit card situation, since I know they'll put me on hold for ages and it will cost a fortune, and they'll probably deny I exist or that I ever tried to purchase a ticket from them.
The facts are these:
Last night I tried to buy a train ticket off their website for my coming visit to England. I filled out all the details and pressed submit, and my authorization was declined. Annoyed and freaking out a little I called my credit card company who said there was nothing wrong with my card, and no charges had appeared, so I should try again. I tried again. The authorization was again declined and I called them back in a growing panic. This time, they said that the authorization had certainly gone through on their end, so this was clearly the merchant's problem. And, as it turns out, my problem since the authorization went through four times, meaning there's a possibility I'd be charged four times for this one train ticket that I still didn't succeed in buying. The nice folks at the credit card company said they'd cancel all but one of those authorizations so I don't get overcharged, but they told me to phone the merchant and sort it out with them. Last night when I tried to called them they were closed, so I sent them some emails that I was supposed to get replies for within 12 hours. Nothing. Now I think I really do need to call them but how much do I not want to do that right now. Ugh. For one thing, I'm going mad writing my last paper for which I had 3 out of 20 pages done so far. If both this paper and my train ticket madness could just go away right now I'd be very happy.
Okay, that's my rant.
The facts are these:
Last night I tried to buy a train ticket off their website for my coming visit to England. I filled out all the details and pressed submit, and my authorization was declined. Annoyed and freaking out a little I called my credit card company who said there was nothing wrong with my card, and no charges had appeared, so I should try again. I tried again. The authorization was again declined and I called them back in a growing panic. This time, they said that the authorization had certainly gone through on their end, so this was clearly the merchant's problem. And, as it turns out, my problem since the authorization went through four times, meaning there's a possibility I'd be charged four times for this one train ticket that I still didn't succeed in buying. The nice folks at the credit card company said they'd cancel all but one of those authorizations so I don't get overcharged, but they told me to phone the merchant and sort it out with them. Last night when I tried to called them they were closed, so I sent them some emails that I was supposed to get replies for within 12 hours. Nothing. Now I think I really do need to call them but how much do I not want to do that right now. Ugh. For one thing, I'm going mad writing my last paper for which I had 3 out of 20 pages done so far. If both this paper and my train ticket madness could just go away right now I'd be very happy.
Okay, that's my rant.
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