Friday, April 29, 2005

Sure Thing, Not a Problem

There are some days that you arrive with the greatest intentions and leave with your head in a spin.

I am about to walk out the door now because I truly think my brain has turned off.

Just had this conversation.

*Bring Bring*

(A picks up the phone)

A: Hello?

AnyOldOne: Hi A? Yes I'm just calling *problem**problem**problem*

A: Ah yes, no worries, I will get that sorted for you by the end of today

Silence

AOO: It is the end of today.

A: Oh. I guess I won't then

Silence

A: Uhhh...have a nice long weekend?

D's been gone 8 hours and already I've lost it.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Courier Hell

Can someone please explain to me how I can list of names of companies that can get packages from Toronto to Orlando from by 9am overnight and yet getting a package from Dublin to Belfast (this is an HOUR AND A HALF DRIVE PEOPLE!!!) can actually take up to 4 days??? BY COURIER????

I love my job. I relish the challenge of the stress that comes along with deadlines. I even love the stress. I admit it. I'm perhaps a stress junkie.

I don't, however, like to be at the mercy of people, who, in my mind have not had the foresight to really THINK about the important components of running a courier company. If I didn't care how quickly it got there, I'D SEND IT IN THE POST!!!!

A lot of the time, my job relies on things being delivered. It also involves on things being delivered OVERNIGHT or within hours, something that perhaps my spoiled North American working self is quite used to.

Not so much used to the Irish delivery systems. Not so great to endure the kind of stress that comes purely at the hands of a delivery person.

Calling all courier entreprenuers: There IS a market here. If you could promise companies what Fedex and UPS promise for people in Ireland, you would make bucketloads.

(I would also like a cut of your fortune for pointing you in the right direction. I'll know who you are just by your 9am guarantee so don't think you can hide.)

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Rest in Peace

I had a dream the other night I was 3 months pregnant. My stomach was in so much pain and the doctor told me 'that happens' in the first 3 months.

I woke to realise that it was partly true - my stomach was in aches and pains although it was probably to do with the Pilates and Abs Blast classes instead of a child growing inside.

When I relayed the story to girl at work, she promptly told me:

"That means someone's going to die."

A bit taken aback, I laughed it off and realised I could attribute this to ANYONE in the world as at ANY GIVEN MOMENT someone is sadly passing.

It was only after I got home, however, that I realised my dream perhaps has actually predicted a death close to my home.

I have killed the fern I was supposed to be tending.

I walked past it last night, the pathetic leaves drooping, the stems at the bottom pulling themselves away from the roots.

Who knew you could OVER water a plant?

I did have one last ditch effort on Sunday where i mixed up some MiracleGro in water in the hopes of a miraculous revival...smiliar to the chest pads doctors use..CLEAR!

Alas, it was not to be. That plant is on a suicide mission.

The sad part is, I'm not really sure what to do next.

How do you unwater a plant?

Mental note to self: When you have children, be sure not to overwater them.

Monday, April 25, 2005

When it rains it pours...

The weather over here is pretty much the same temperature all the time. There is now extreme cold or extreme hot. Just extreme centre. I used to like that.

But now, it's old to me. It's like one day just seems to slip into the next and I can't really remember if it's April or December because the weather certainly doesn't give me any indication.

I hate to complain about the weather. It is such a trivial, inconsequential component. One that we can't control, so what is the point in talking about it.

I'm happy my mood will soon be lifted.

The excitement is building for a surprise visit by a truly cool Canadian travelling chick to Belfast.

Our friend A.K. not only saved my lonely, anti-girlie girl butt on a booze cruise in Corfu, Greece, she also put me up in her bed in Edinburgh for the festival AND made Leeds a pit stop on her final trek around England before jetting off back to Canada.

Also Ms. A.K. only stayed for a couple of months when she got back there.

She was off again to Australia this time and came back only last September after getting accepted into a PR course.

Finished her year - and finished being a student - she is off on a bit of a UK adventure and has decided to stop off and see us in Belfast!!!!

And, if that's not enough, we'll have visitors from Leeds again the weekend after she leaves. So nice that friends just can't keep themselves away. Especially in light of my current weather mood.

But with the good comes the bad, almost like a metaphor for the weather over here. Equally cold and hot all in the same week.

D is off to North America for THREE WEEKS!! Can everyone hear me now?? THREE WEEKS!!

Please see: Things I'm accepting about Me post.

I..CAN'T..BE..ALONE!

I'm independant and not a needy person. But I just get bored. REALLY EASILY.

So, as happy as I am for the arrival of some old familiar girlie faces, I am sad for the days to come as it means Mr. D is off jet setting.

So happy that his mind is being challenged. Although, will miss him terribly.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

The Pipes

It was the sound of the pipe band bagpipes and drums that brought me to a halt in the conversation with my mother this morning.

I stopped her mid sentence.

"Mom, sorry, there's a parade going by my window".

She was as giddy as I was. I quickly opened the window to allow the music to float up into our fourth floor apartment.

I knew it took us both back to a time when I was little and she was, well, probably about my age, perhaps a bit older.

We would have been standing along a road - in small-town-Ontario-anywhere - waiting to see the Ingersoll Pipe Band in the parade, march past us. And there, at the back with all the drummers - the renegade musicians - would be my dad'; his brow furrowed in concentration, altering only slightly to give us all a wink and a half smile.

The sound of a pipe band is such a lovely noise to me. To me, it was community. People of all kinds getting together locally to watch the musical procession. Togetherness really.

About 2 minutes later, there was another sound. One of chanting, of angry, drunk men shouting in song, words unreconisable to anyone but themselves.

"Oh, what's that chanting?" My mom said, thinking perhaps it was part of the parade.

"Oh it's must be the other side," I said, "Angry about the parades."

It was sad to think that a sound I related so much with togetherness really does not actually have the same effect in this part of the world.

D overheard the commotion and came into the room where I was looking out the window.

"Those guys," I said to him. "What are they fighting about down there."

"Oh," he smiled, "There's a football game today and INSERT TEAM HERE won. INSERT OTHER TEAM must have bumped into some opposing fans."

Cops were breaking up the commotion. I wasn't relaying all of this to my mother as I did not want to un-nerve her. It's one thing for me to get used to living in a place where drunken idiots pick fights with each other. It's another thing to hear it over the phone.

I told my mom what D said. She laughed.

"Your father just said that. How is it that your father would know that?"

Perhaps there is one thing that is universal.

Sport.

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Letter to the Kid #3

Right, listen up little dude. I just realised that I am really crap - oh, sorry, don't tell your mother I just said crap; it will be our little secret.

So, I'm really crap (AGAIN...ix-nay on the wearing-say) at updating lately and have realised that the least I could have done was update on 15 April to say a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my most avid reader (probably only reader) your mom.

She has now - as my mother liked to point out - entered her 30th year.

Which just goes to show two things, little man.

1 - I really need to get a grip and a schedule but mostly that I need your help to continue smiling and laughing all day as this helps me to feel not so bad that not only am I not there to celebrate with her but that I totally dissed her in the blog world, oh-bad-friend-that-I-am.

2 - Parents will get their revenge in the end. Like I'm not going to be able to call my 29th birthday the first day of my '30th year'. Thanks mom. But hey, they do clean our bums so we should let a few things go eh Mr. T?

Keep laughing. I'll see you soon.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Things I Am Accepting About Me

As I approach 30, I begin to think about the personality traits I have that I don't think I can ever change.

It's not about giving up, more about letting go.

I am so competitive - The only board game I can play without getting agressive and red faced is Trivial Pursuit, and that's because it feels less like a game and more like a 'joint learning experience'.

I am crap at being alone - I need about 30 minutes alone time a day. This can be easily achieved on my walk to work and on the bus. I can go for about 5 waking hours not speaking to another human being but after that, I just start speaking to myself. After a day, I start reinventing my childhood imaginary friend Jenny. Although, she never really talked that much, just listened to all my wisdom. (With you're imaginary friends, you are always right)

I am a non-conformist who hates breaking the rules - I was a goody goody as a child, rarely got in trouble, always was saying sorry and was deathly afraid of police officers.

I hate, however, having to WANT to do things 'because everyone else WANTS TO DO THEM' ie, get a marketing degree if I want to work in marketing, buy a house because I'm over the age of 25, get married because I've been with my partner for more than 5 years. Have a baby because my clock is ticking.

My mother always said I was fiercly independent when it came to decisions. I will do these things IF I want to and WHEN I want to.

I can only go shopping ALONE for about 2 hours max - This is perhaps my 'alone' time. I'm a bit selfish, I'm sorry, but I have trouble getting excited about other people's clothes. Heck, I can't even get excited about my own clothes. I just keep thinking, 'that 20 quid could go a long way in Greece...'

I can get excited about a boy you met or a job interview you went on or some gossip you have about that bitchy girl in high school but how great you look in that skirt? Five words really: Yeah, great, can we go?

I just don't find this an enjoyable social outing. I find this more a mission-impossible-style event. Need an outfit. Scour the shops. Get the goods. Get out. As. fast. as. you. can.

I have trouble being wrong - It rarely happens, however, so really, this one doesn't really need to be analysed.

I'm a Gemini who has two sides to every story - This must be why I loved debating politics in my early twenties. I could see both sides because, hey, us twins can really never decide what we want.

I will always over analyse - And myself is no exception to this rule. I have a keen curiosity about the human spirit.

And an intense desire to truly understand each facet of society.

Out of all these revelations, there is the one I'm most happy with:

I'm comfortable with me - I must admit, I can't remember a time being uncomfortable with me.

I'm glad some things never change.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Miss Brown Thumb

All day Saturday, in your comfy blue pants, your too long Hard Rock Cafe Mexico shirt and your Canada Hockey baseball cap, walking with bags in hands out of my apartment, down the hall, into the lobby, down the stairs, across the road, down the alley, across the other road, into the new lobby, up the new elevator, down the new hall and into the new apartment.

Trip after trip after trip.

Ready to sleep by 4:30

The arrival of a friend with a van sparks a bit more speed but conversation tends to take over.

And then the realisation that the last ice hockey game of the season is on in Belfast.

A mad rush to find out who wants to go. A dash to the box office to buy 6 tickets, a mental scramble to finish cleaning the old kitchen, eat chinese food amongst boxes and bags in our new apartment and frantically tidy ourselves up for a night out.

Livening up at the game and the glee of realizing they have gin and tonics NOT just beer, although at the last 4 games you've suffered through with lager.

Party party at the dance bar later, where you wait anxiously at the bottom of the stairs for the top bar to open so you can make a mad dash to get a seat. Happy days when you're one of the first and find ample room for all 6.

Dance, laugh, sing, drink, shout over the music and stumble home, stopping by the chinese place again for fries and gravy.

Chat, laugh at the new place with friends waiting for cabs and finally drag your feet into the two bedrooms to make up the beds you ignored while busy getting ready for a night out.

Crash into your pillow, fall asleep with deep deep dreams of nothingness.

Wake up, head fuzzy, throat sore from the smoke and the yelling, body aching from the multiple trips from old tiny place to new spacious place.

Finally, after boys take off to watch the grand prix, you sit with a cup of tea in your hand in your new window sill, looking down on the world below in quiet and peaceful tranquility.

Gazing around the apartment with a drunk smile sliding across your face, you scrunch your eyebrowns in confused horror.

Am I now owner of all those plants?