Friday, September 30, 2005

There'll be more to come!

Spider Girl's Life in a Bathtub Blog (there's pictures of Africa AND horrendous injuries, what more could you want!)

Polaris's 'Once Was A Crow' blog (she's talented, I need not over sell)

Kim writes some FINE Books! (so go buy them already!)

Bill's Music (and he's good!)

Okay, I realize it's not a TRUE links sidebar...but I'm working on it!

Is it just me?

This has GOT to be the strangest e-mail I've received in a long while.

I'll set the back drop, so as to paint as clear a picture as I can.

I work at a warehousing facility.

We receive stuff in, as per the other company's directions (obviously the company will be left unnamed for very good reason!)

They are required to tell us what is coming in, and what is not coming in.

Sometimes they forget or make mistakes, so it's my job to check, check and double check to make sure everything is correct.

I almost ALWAYS c.c. my boss or another co-worker in my e-mails when corresponding with this other company, because as we all know, 'CYA' * is first and foremost the most important rule in business.

So, here I am, asking for verification on whether or not we were going to be receiving a particular shipment, and cc'ing in my boss, Ed.


Hi Jing,
Can you advise please, if this is coming here or not?



Yes, this one does not go to you I sent wrong instruction to you which is my mistake.

But do you think there is no point to copy Ed?

You made mistakes I do too everyone does, but pls do remember our common goal is to complete our job well.

ME (replying in surprise and obvious confusion):

I'm sorry?

I don't understand...I generally copy Ed or Tom, or someone at our facility on all things that I e-mail.

I apologize if it bothers you, but it's just something I'm supposed to do when confirming activity here at our facility.

JING (replying from some other planet. The translation has apparently undergone a distinct interplanetary static problem, thus garbling it beyond all comprehension):


Simple stuff.

We suppose spending time to perform well at work.

That is answer. **

* You know...CYA "Cover Your Ass"

** But...what the hell was the question?
Come to think of it, can some one PLEASE explain that answer???

Dreams and their soundtracks.

I admit, I have my fair share of strange dreams.

This time however, I didn't have a particularly strange dream, so much as I had an odd accompanying background song...

"Thank God, I'm a Country Boy"...yup, good 'ol John Denver.

A thigh slapping old fashioned tune, but not really one I want to have continuously streaming through my head all day, if y'all know what I mean.
(Especially when those are the only words I know! over and over and OVER!)

I can almost SMELL the hotcakes on the griddle!

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Update on the attitude adjustment.

Ah, success.
Imagine a drizzly Vancouver day, grey clouds and lots of traffic.

And imagine a young women who has come to a complete stop in an uncongested lane directly ahead of me.

I sit behind her, watching her crane her neck in an extended shoulder check watching the traffic to her left waiting for a moment to switch over.

And she's at a full stop, no traffic ahead of her, and a lane that continues for at least 2 more blocks before parked cars would ever force her over.

And I just sit. Full stop. No honking or gesticulating. Hoping that she eventually feels safe enough to merge into the other lane.

On the other hand, I was to tired to do much BUT sit there.

But it's a start, right?

Behavior modification.

I'm doing my best to be a calmer, more gentler Tai, I really am!

My friends may laugh and point, but I'm determined to stop flying into a rage at the drop of a hat.
No more unnecessary frothing at the mouth or scratching at my own eyeballs out of unmitigated frustration.

So the next time some one cuts me off in traffic when the roads have been freshly washed with enough rain to bring up a nice slick of oil, and I have to slam on the brakes and fear that'll I slide into them, I'll just give them a friendly wave and wish them a safe journey.

Or when a customer calls me on the phone, unjustly accusing me of not doing my job properly, suggesting, in fact, that I've erred when it's their own screw up that's caused the mishap, I'll say to them warmly, "I'm sorry you feel that way."

Yup, you just watch me.

But this...this will be the true test.

At the grocery store when someone rams their cart into my innocent heels over and over and over, drawing blood, I swear, I'll just smile and nod.
I might even ask if I can move out of their way to accommodate their rush up and down the aisles!

Now, I know what you're thinking.
Not very pirate like behaviour, really.
Quite unbecoming to any swashbuckling maid, you might say.

HOWEVER, I have this to rebut with.
I AM a Gemini.
My other personality will MORE than make up for any fearsome behavior that I might be lacking in my 'functioning in the real world daily persona'.

After all.
I have a certain blood thirsty image to uphold, now don't I.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Taking stock.

Well, I was pondering the state of my car this morning, considering all of the collective 'stuff' I have in it.

Here's a more-or-less complete log of the 'stuff' I travel with on a daily basis.

3 plastic tiger cubs ('cus you just can't have enough, obviously)
1 black rubber bat (to accompany the vampyre, of course!)
1 green lizard of a random sort (no good reason for that one)
1 'Playmobile' vampyre figure (to accompany the bat, of course!)
1 pirate girl living in my glove compartment (I think she's Bonny Anne)
1 golf ball sized disco ball hanging from my rearview mirror
1 Jolly Roger air freshener (for that freshly swabbed deck scent) also hanging from my rearview mirror
1 pair of shoes
1 book (the "Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" a mediocre book at best)
4 tapes of various musicians (including Muddy Waters, which I like, but is now useless to me now as I don't have a tape deck in my car (thank the gods...NO ONE should have a tape deck player in their car. My dad gives them to me under the mistaken belief that one day I will get the tape deck replaced because my new 6 cd-changer isn't enough. Sorry Dad. It ain't gonna happen. Though I'm sure you're still very happy with your 8-track).


That's a lot of 'stuff'.
And I still manage to fit myself in there, despite the full menagerie.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Sometimes I'd like to turn my brain off.

I was having dinner with a friend last night, when the most vile thought came crashing into my skull.

My mom, (whom I love love LOVE!) has been having some ear troubles lately.
Now, she's a healthy 55 year old women, who has never smoked or drank. She walks everyday is generally very healthy.
However, her inner-ear has been plaguing her as of late, leaving her dizzy (because we all know it affects your equilibrium), nauseaus and feeling generally crappy.
At my insistance, and after almost two months of ill ease, she's going to go in for a CT scan to see what the problem is.
(She's one of those kinds of people that has a tendency to think that if one doctor says it'll go away, it'll go does not question the doctor.)

So, I was talking about her doing this when suddenly, horribly, the thought that it might be something more than just a simple blockage or minor infection came whip-cracking across my thought pattern.
What if it's a tumour?
What if it's cancer?
What if it's one of those occasions where an initially innocent problem bloats and explodes into the worst possible scenario.

I know what if.
If THAT'S the case, I'd move back to Courtenay instantly. There would be no way I wouldn't be by her side.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Hagar loves Juliette

Look VERY closely at Hagar's shirt and sign board....
It holds important clues as to why I don't care for Hagar.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

I never liked Hagar, either.


“Hey,” my friend Chris said after I arrived in Victoria, “We should go to the meatery.”

“A meatery?” I questioned, puzzled.

“Yes, the meatery in Sooke.”

“Ummm,” I pondered that for a moment, desperately trying to understand what he was saying, but I couldn’t quite.
“Is there any special reason you want to take me to an abattoir?” I queried, suddenly nervous.

“No, no.” He laughed, “A MEADERY.”

“Yeah, as if that makes MORE sense.” I tossed back.

“You know, a place where they make mead.”

“OH!!” I reflected on that for a moment.
“Okay. Let’s go.”

If there’s one thing I like, it’s mead.*

*I mean, I like meat too, but I don't know if I really want to go to a meatery...or an abattoir for that matter.

Monday, September 19, 2005

I WAS going to write about so many things.

I was going to write about how GLAD I was that my friends made it back safely from their amazing sounding safari in Kenya and Tanzania, it really sounds extraordinary and I can't wait to hear about the rest of it.

Then, I was going to write about the lovely little trip to Victoria I just had, beautiful weather, good food and 6 episodes all in a row of the Muppet Show, what more could any one want on a mini-hols?

I also had something to write about the strange man I ran into a while ago (from my post "Safe and Sound"), as he seems to me following me about. Seeing the same person 3 times in 15 minutes aimlessly driving around the neighbourhood as I make my way home from shopping makes me nervous.
He always waves and smiles and I just walk a little faster.

I was going to write about all of those things, but the dreams I had last night kept me distracted and disturbed all day.

I dreamt of murder and rape and hideous torture. I was merely a watcher in the distance, but it was still so grim...kidnapped women tormented and cut, and once death relieved them from their agony, necrophilia.

I awoke feeling dirty and saddened that there was nothing I could do, with a horrible headache settling in at the back of my head.
Dreams are such odd things.
They can elate you or leave you weeping as you wake.
I had no part in any of this one, but it still settled over my shoulders, a dark and heavy cloak.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Two last post errors.

Just in case anyone ELSE noticed...

It's actually "Hair of the Dog" by Nazareth *


the word is STRIPE, not stipe.

Thanks for your attention, you may resume your regular blogging.

*Which, in the commercial, they changed the words to some weird rappy thing, but the background bass is SO obvious.
Kind of like when that strange Vanilla person used the Queen riff from 'Under Pressure' for his ICE ICE Baby song.
tsk tsk tsk

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

I don't think I'll buy one, despite the cool tune.

Well, the old chargers are gone.

And the new ones are a comin'.

I saw one of the first commercials on tv last night for it.
They were playing a catchy tune in the background that took me a few seconds to recognize.

It was Nazareth's "Now You're Messin' With a Son of a Bitch."

I was initially suprised that they chose that tune, but in retrospect, it's not like anyone younger than 25 will have a clue.

(oh gods...I really AM *ahem* 'mature')

I still prefer MY old charger.
'Cept mine was DIRT BROWN, not shiny red.
AND mine had a racing stipe down the side.

Now doesn't THAT picture just bring back all the years of repressed angst, eh girls?

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

I just remembered.

Yeah, I suddenly recall, with alarming force, all of the reasons I don't like Juliette Lewis.

And it all comes to a ugly head in the 'spandex "Solid Gold" dancer meets East German Pro-Wrestler type woman' ensemble she vomited up and then put on.

(I'll forgive the horns. Sort of.)

Monday, September 12, 2005

It's all about the bling?!?

As I AM currently reading J. Mitfords facsinating and disturbing book, "The American Way of Death: Revisited" I keep feeling compelled to look up the Canadian versions for reference.
(Not only is this book about the American 'tradition' of death, it's also almost 10 years out of date.)

And lo, I discovered that these days a variety of funeral jewelry can be had, as shown by the lovely piece above.
That dandy little number will run you about $800 big ones.
It IS, after all, a Black Onyx Pendant.

And here I am, running around without the slightest idea that I would need some new jewelry when someone I love passes on.

The notion of buying myself jewelry when my mother dies is perfectly VILE.

(On the other hand, I may need something big and sparkly when my father goes....)


I come to work and instantly I'm thrown into a foul mood.

We are currently understaffed in the office by 2 people.

Meanwhile one of my other co workers is off sick (again!).
For weeks at a time she's gone, putting a considerable amount of pressure on the rest of us.

Now, there are several things wrong with these scenarios.

Firstly, that we've been running at half staff for so long with no direction or indication by management that it's going to change any time soon.

Secondly, that one of the key employees here is not capable of being in the office for more that a week or two at a time.
I've never met ANYONE who was so ill so often!
During the summer she was gone for several months, and now she's going to be gone AGAIN for at least three more weeks!?!

While I like this person as an individual, I've never been so annoyed.

I don't see why she can't be replaced.
A company can not be expected to be run with an employee that is never well enough to be here!
It so seriously affects production (not to mention morale) you would think it would be of importance to deal with.

So, then it once again rests on the management to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!

The rest of us work hard with very little thanks (and no, I don't think that a crappy piece of pizza for the companies third birthday constitutes thanks, and it hardly counts as a celebration either. Nary a piece of cake or a hearty 'congratulations' was evident.)

Also, (while I'm ranting away) one of my OTHER co workers thinks that they are above the regular rules of office conduct.

He yells at people, he's rude and belligerent and acts superior in general.
Once, he was annoyed with me because I didn't jump when he commanded, so he complained to the boss I was taking to many smoke breaks...the irony being that I had been quit smoke for almost ONE MONTH at that point!

After a multitude of complaints made to management over the years by almost everyone in the facility regarding his inappropriate behaviour, he continues on as before with no change.

So I suppose that I'm in the same boat as everyone else, overworked, underpaid, under appreciated and disgusted with their co workers.

There's GOT to be a light at the end of the tunnel, doesn't there?
(and the first one that suggests it's a train is going to get a little visit from me, and it ain't gonna be for tea!)

Thursday, September 08, 2005

One day...

...I really ought to learn how to use my fabulous computer.

I tried to download a pic of my revitalized computer, but no.

Apparently I'm SO technologically DE-clined I can't even do that!
(I wasn't kidding, just getting a new blog-post posted takes all my abilities!)

Well, you'll just have to believe me that Kris did an absolute bang-up job of taking a sow's ear and making a silk purse.

It slices!! It DICES!!! It GLOWS IN THE DARK!!

And a bottle of rum, too!

Wednesday, September 07, 2005


After poking around in the British Columbia funeral restrictions information I found this little gem.

Prohibition on sales, and offers of sale, of
arrangements relating to cryonics and irradiation

14 A person must not offer for sale, or sell, an arrangement for the preservation or storage of human remains that is based on

(a) cryonics,

(b) irradiation, or

(c) any other means of preservation or storage, by whatever name called,

and that is offered, or sold, on the expectation of the resuscitation of human remains at a future time

Well, there goes MY hope of making a nice little nest egg for myself!
I had space in the freezer set aside and everything!

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Emily Dickinson

I'm a decided fan of Ms. Dickinson.
She's wrote in an unusual manner for a woman of that time and religious upbringing. (Rather Puritan)

She died in Amherst in 1886 without any public recognition of her astounding abilities while she was alive.
It wasn't until her room was being sorted after her death that her family discovered her (literally) hidden talent.

One of my favorite of her poems isn't uncommon, but it speaks so clearly of her catching of breath at seeing a snake, that any time I've seen a snake since I recall the last line of this poem with cold clarity.


A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides;
You may have met him, -did you not?
His notice sudden is.

The grass divides as with a comb,
A spotted shaft is seen;
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on.

He likes a boggy acre,
A floor too cool for corn.
Yet when a child, and barefoot,
I more than once, at morn,

Have passed, I thought, a whip-lash
Unbraiding in the sun, -
When, stooping to secure it,
It wrinkled, and was gone.

Several of nature's people
I know, and they know me;
I feel for them a transport
Of cordiality;

But never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing,
And zero at the bone.

Friday, September 02, 2005

Missing something.

I'm missing more than just a few things these days.

One girlfriend, and the VERY talented writer of, is away in 100 Mile House B.C. I don't even KNOW where that is...jeeeeze, she might as well be in AFRICA!
(Hey 'Pol, why don't you use your blog to show off some of your amazing graphic art talents? We didn't go through all that time in that little apartment on Boundary Ave for nothing, right?)

And as for Ms. Holm of the famous, she really IS in Africa these days...perhaps in Tanzania at the moment?
I miss the both of them very much.
Their blogs are cobwebbing away with out them.
And so am I!!!!


I think that I'm the only Canadian resident that's missing the CBC.

I used to swan in to work on Swan Lake, and march in on other days to a brisk 1. 2. 3. 4. by Haydn.
The most disturbing thing I've heard so far on my way to work, was the other day, THE funeral march...dum dum dum dum DUM dum dum dum dum dum dum. Dark and linear and NO allowance for anything else.
I suspect it's Beethoven, or Haydn...or maybe Wagner.
It's hard to say because the CBC is ON STRIKE and Jurgen Goth isn't around to tell me what the hell I've just been listening to.
I miss him.


Here's something else I missed, apparently.
Today my workplace 'celebrated' it's the 3rd year of existence with (drum roll here please) some pizza.
"Congratulations!" Says the boss, "You've seen this company through to the dynamic moving force it is today, you are a part of the success and we thank you very much."
~oh, gee, that's the DREAM portion of this blog. That didn't really happen. 'Cus you know, why should it? We got some pizza, thank GOODNESS!~


I miss my door knob, too.
I tried to exit my apartment the other day via the normal route (meaning, through the door way of course) only to discover that the door handle was NOT turning the little interior thingy that slides the bolt back to allow me to leave.
Fortunately, my phone call to the landlord saw some relief from being trapped inside my place for the entire long weekend.
I was also lucky in that my friend Danny is very mechanically inclined and can fix all sorts of things that go wrong in my life (including clutch fans, windshield wiper motors and dodgy window motors).
He was able to remove the guts of the door knob so that I no longer have to rely on it, but what a strange feeling to only have a bolt slide and a chain to 'keep the outside world out'.
Of course, the promise the landlord made to replace the importants bits didn't go through, but at least, (thanks to Danny) it shuts and locks, and the strange world out there will stay out there.


oh yeah, my sanity too. Miss it desperately.

Thursday, September 01, 2005


Almost a 1000 people died while on a pilgrimmage in Baghdad the other day.
As they streamed over a bridge spanning the Tigris, panic ensued when word of a suicide bomber spread.

1000 people.
Stomped to death or pushed over the sides of the bridge to drown in the fast moving waters below.

At least 700 of the unfortunates were women and children.
The rest were most likely the old and infirm.

Every able bodied man for himself.