Emergency Room

Yesterday I was in the emergency room @ the hospital (nothing to do with me) and this guy comes up to me with his 3/4 severed thumb and gets within centimetres of my face talking about fuck knows what. I can't remember much of what he said I was too horrified about having my personal space invaded by "thumb's up" dude. Now, why do People(tm) find it necessary to talk to me?? Do I LOOK like someone who wants to have a casual conversation?? I'm sitting there waiting and watching the horrific movie "Troy" and just trying to avoid all germinal contact whatsoever. I look mean, don't I? Wait, no, don't answer that. Hey! Everyone! Go talk to the cute little fat chick! She looks friendly! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. I know all their tricks. Attempting a humourous comment, walking passed slowly, giving a smile, displaying severed body parts. Ok, so you're brave enough to approach the chickie with the skeleton purse... fine. Do NOT get into my space. This is mine!! MINE! Don't stare at my boobs, although, heh "they're real and they're spectacular". Don't breathe your alcohol tainted breath in my face. Didn't the "hand covering mouth/nose" give you any indication?? Hmmm, maybe I'm a bit loopy about this because I didn't say anything. Under the current circumstances with his thumb hanging on my a small flap of skin and tendon it wouldn't have been good to add insult to injury. HOWEVER... does that still make it ok? Does that excuse the behaviour at all? Normally, Mr. Thumbalina would have gotten an earful. Oh my, the fat girl's got a mouth. Normally, I would have got medieval on his ass and told him to shove his thumb in places we only whisper about. Normally... ugh! Anything is BUT NORMAL in the emergency room. But...

Rule of thumb (heh). AN ARM'S LENGTH! I can't stress this enough People(tm)!! NOT a severed thumb length. AN ARM'S LENGTH.

MmmmK. Admittedly, I'm probably not the most menacing character out there. I so need to work on that.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrowl!

10-1

I saw this some place that I can't remember and I thought it was interesting...

10 to 1

10 Bands/Artists You Love.
U2//Tindersticks//In the Woods//Pink Floyd//Empyrium//David Bowie//My Dying Bride//The Cure//Duran Duran//Arcturus
9 Things You're Looking Forward To.
europe//swimming//house-guests//grass in my back yard//sleeptime//clean truck//afternoon caffeine rush//home office//seeing puppies after work
8 Things You Wear Daily.
specs//underoos//silver celtic-knot bracelet//diamond earrings from my parents//a bra//lip balm//black hoodie//Happy by Clinique
7 Things That Annoy You.
speeders//continual laziness//gothic "depression"//spam//ignorance (more of a hate)//people that shuffle their feet when they walk//hot summer days
6 Things You Touch Everyday.
keyboard//unsanitary door-handles//doggies//kitty//water//tv remote
5 Things You Do Every Morning.
Shower//Brush teeth//blow-dry hair//check email//whine
4 People You'd Like To Meet.
Arjen//Kel//Ann//Ang
3 Movies You Could Watch Over and Over.
A Clockwork Orange//The Godfather//Army of Darkness
2 Of Your Favorite Songs at the Moment.
"If You're Looking for a Way Out" - Tindersticks//"Wish You Were Here" - Pink Floyd
1 Person You Could Spend the Rest of Your Life With.
Myself (errrr, I have to!)

things i love...

• lazy sunday mornings in bed with coffee
• lip balm
• the smell of rain on pavement
• daisies
• waking up inside of a tent
• dark ominous clouds
• taking photos
• skinny dr. pepper
• the soft spot on my puppies' noses
• black nailpolish
• my jack purse
• bubble baths in the dark
• dragons
• water
• the smell of leather
• my anti-RSI squishy cow
• grapefruit hand lotion
• canada
• walks on devonshire beach especially on cold windy days
• U of A campus
• reading and talking about philosophy
• walking in the rain
• IRC
• squishing my toes in mud
• thunder and lightning
• snogging
• accents
• intelligent conversation
• movies so *bad* that they're good
• music
• my army fatigues
• the day the IKEA catalogue arrives
• IKEA
• painting, drawing, sketching
• long grass waving in the wind
• storms
• coffee
• laughing until i cry
• my black hoodie
• my indoor and outdoor slippers
• fresh clean linens on the bed
• waking up in a dark room
• listening to silence

Civilization and Its Discontents

Civilization and Its Discontents changed my life.

I read this book for an Intellectual History Seminar Class @ University. At the time I would admit to going through a crisis of faith. Something that I didn't think would happen because I had gone through something similar a few years prior. I had come to "know God" earlier in my life but to me, something didn't seem to sit right. Perhaps it was Christianity's superiority complex or the idea of a deity in the form of a man or that it just doesn't make sense to begin with, I always had a looming shadow of doubt. Doubt as to the veracity of the bible, the claim of Jesus as "G"od, the idiocy of praying to some supreme being for assistance for something like sharpening a pencil or finding a date for the prom. The notion that some floating magnificence in the universe would care whether we passed algebra or got that promotion is highly arrogant and slightly insane. Indeed, "G"od must not have something better to do, like ohhhh, I don't know, save starving children all over the world, so therefore he must certainly make sure my truck can make it to the service station before running out of petrol.

I guess the logician in me has always felt "weird" about praying. It never really comforted me and to be honest I never really remembered whatever it was that I prayed for. I should have kept some sort of scientific log correlating wishes/prayers and the number of times they came true/were answered to satisfaction. My guess would be 50% yes and 50% no. Now, this is taking into mind that one is wishing/praying for the correct thing AND to the correct diety. I think 50% is a good number. Maybe that's why the French lost so many wars, they were praying to God © and not Thor ©. Now, you may say, what about the times you've prayed and things worked out just as you hoped and confetti fell from the sky and you were swooped off in a chariot of gold, blah blah blah... Maybe it was Karma's turn to answer a few from the queue. "G"od must surely get tired and need to take a break too.

Christianity (tm) is a religion that is targeted for a specific demographic. What they should perhaps also target is an Intelligence Quotient as well. Mmmk, perhaps I am being a bit uncharitable. But this religion offers little/no tolerance to people that are in the slightest bit different. It uses the sledgehammer of their morality to pound people into submission and a theatrical display of a cursed afterlife of ETERNITY for the sins committed within the span of 75-85 years. Now, please correct me if I'm wrong, but the last time I checked ETERNITY was a very large amount of time. The thought that seemingly intelligent people can subscribe to something so ridiculous is beyond my comprehension. Then again, I'm not fluent in Stupid and have no plans on learning the language.

Now, nice seguey back into Civilization and Its Discontents. My favourite excerpt from this book caused me to exclaim "FUCK YES!!!" in the Rutherford Library on campus followed by a host of "Shhhh!!!"s and a few chuckles:

"In my Future of an Illusion [1927c] I was concerned much less with the deepest sources of the religious feeling than with what the common man understands by his religion - with the system of doctrines and promises which on the one hand explains to him the riddles of this world with enviable completeness, and, on the other, assures him that a careful Providence will watch over his life and will compensate him in a future existence for any frustrations he suffers here. The common man cannot imagine this Providence otherwise than in the figure of an enormously exalted father. Only such a being can understand the needs of the children of men and be softened by their prayers and placated by the signs of their remorse. The whole thing is so patently infantile, so foreign to reality, that to anyone with a friendly attitude to humanity it is painful to think that the great majority of mortals will never be able to rise above this view of life." - Sigmund Freud, Civilization and Its Discontents (1930), Chapter II.

These few lines, in some sense, freed me. Before I couldn't articulate my frustration and disgust towards such things. These words opened a dam that flooded me with beautiful dose reality which in turn helped me to discover the understanding of my own purposelessness and my own mortality. I was finally AWARE. Utterly aware. I needn't believe, anymore that my "fate" or my existence was a direct result of some obsure Master of the Universe. And let me tell you, growing up Catholic it is difficult to shake those instincts with which they brainwash you: suspiciously looking around for the Holy Spirit © or biting your tongue if you say the J, C or G words.

Now, don't get me wrong, Freud didn't become my god, there was no transference going on. However reading Civilization and Its Discontents... well, it changed my life. Now, if only I can get rid of this cigar...

Stand on Guard for Thee...

I have a tattoo. Back in the day, it wasn't as... hmmmm, trendy as it is now. Lots of people had tattoos, but waitresses named Tiffany did not. It is a tattoo of a maple leaf, which every second -and good- Canadian has somewhere on their bodies and from what I hear now, they're just being branded on arses at birth.

Now, why a maple leaf? Obvious reasons: I am Canadian (tm); I love my country and wanted to display this proudly; the maple leaf is a beautiful thing; upon a year of contemplation to make sure it was something I *really* wanted I had it done.

















Now this leads me into the whole "I love my country, I shall wrap myself in it's flag and die for whatever cause it decides is important". I do love my country, but I do not believe in every thing that I am told what Canada is to be. There are certain things I think this nation needs to rethink and redo. I think there are things that we shouldn't do. Now I don't want to get all political so I'll just leave it at that and let you fill in the blanks yourselves.

AND... there are things that I think as Canadians we need to stand from the rooftops and scream about the nation for which "we stand on guard". Again, decide your own reasons, but here are a few of mine.

Canadians are, generally polite, courteous and have manners. We know how to say "thank you" and "please". I heard a joke one day:

How do you get 200 drunk Canadians out of a swimming pool?

Please get out of the pool."

It is our nature to be obedient and slightly passive. I am not saying this is the case all the time. I don't think that most of us would be passive in all situations. Look at the hockey players that we have raised.

Canadians, although we display much pride for our nation, we are also quite aware that there is a world that lives beyond our borders. We are not ethnocentric. We have an understanding that we are not the only culture in the world. As a very young country we are still defining ourselves in the shadow of a much larger, dominant and overpowering nation.

I think sometimes Canadians are most of proud of the fact that we are NOT American.

People on the outside might look at North America and see two countries that are quite alike and think we are the same kind of people. This isn't true. Living in the US for a while, I came to realize, very quickly, that we are TWO very distinctive nations in thought and action. Intrinsically we are just different. Howso?

Religion: It doesn't dominate Canadian culture.
Spelling: We use the "U" -favourite; honour; colour; neighbour...
Militarily: Canada doesn't *really* have one. Except for the 4 submarines in West Edmonton Mall and the fixer-uppers from the Brits, we really don't have a naval fleet.
Diversity: Canadians do not own the rights to diversity, but we celebrate it with much more vigour.
Gay Marriage: It has been made legal for homosexual couples to marry. The 3rd nation in the world to do so.

Those are just a FEW of the things that I see as different without sounding incredibly arrogant and rude (Disclaimer: The thoughts and opinions that are expressed in this blog are solely those of the blogger and are not necessarily those of blogspot.com). I am very proud to be a Canadian! I think all Canadians should be very proud to be Canadian. Celebrating the reasons why we ARE distinctly Canadian.

Here's something that annoys a lot of people, but despite the reason for its creation it holds a lot of truth.

Link--> I AM CANADIAN ©

Canada Rules!

Now, as for the tattoo... Well, at least they'll know where to send the body.

Trolls

When I was a kid I wanted to be a Photo-Journalist. Not *really* knowing what this meant in its entirety it combined two things that I was really interested in. Photos and Writing. Somewhere this dream of mine was put in the far recesses of my mind as I concentrated on more practical careers like teaching or environmental ecologist. I never became a teacher. I never ecologized environmentally either. Instead, I analyze volumetrics, numbers, expenses and captial expeditures as an accountant in an oil and gas company. You would think, with all this creative energy that I have that my career would have been in the arts not with numbers. I guess part of me wonders why I chose this direction. It's not like I was never in charge of my own career. Accounting is something that I can just... do. I am fortunate to be able to do something that, monetarily is quite satisifying and, at times, can be very creative. The analyzing part is where it can be creative, the paycheque is where is can be satisfying. ;)

A lot of people's perceptions of accountants (errr, sometimes referred to as "bean counters") is that we're boring, predictable, unfunny (I can make words up if I want to, its MY blog), static, hmmm TROLLS (yah, thanks Dilbert ©). The truth is. Yes. Most are. Heh. But I am the exception (to almost every rule, btw)!! I am NOT boring. SOOOO not predictable. I can not be unfunny. I use dryer sheets so I'm not static. And although I can act like one, I am not a troll.

I guess what I am saying is that I think I balance my life pretty well. My writing, drawing, photography and other creative interests balance off my otherwise "boring" profession. The truth of the matter is, I think most people aren't overly satisified in their current career, but its a CHOICE. I guess I'm writing this because I read something quite interesting the other day that is sticking in my mind. "If you love what you do for a living, you will never work a day in your life". I work, but never outside of my office.

Today's Soundtrack

Morning woke up with some embarassing song playing on the local radio station by some "deader than dead" 80's "band" called Deaf Leopard (yes yes, I know I spelled that incorrectly).

Commute to Work: "Zombie" by the Cranberries, "One" by U2, "Learning to Fly" by Pink Floyd, "Sear Me MCMXCIII" by My Dying Bride

Stampede Breakfast @ Work: Various Country Artists. Now this vexes me. In relation to a previous post I made this morning, the TransWESTites find it necessary to "enjoy" the throng of overplayed country music such as "Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy" or "'Any Song Title" by Shania Twain. Vomitous.

Currently: Album "American Idiot" by Greenday

Tonight I shall drown myself in Tindersticks, Ingrid Kraklins, In the Woods and other moody stuff. Can you say "Mmmmm"?

Passing the Test

So my "friend who shall remain nameless" did a bunch of quizzes online.
Here are the results from a few that I took via his "encouraging".
(He was creative enough to post the links to all these quizzes on his blog, I can't be arsed.)

If I were @ Hogwarts, I would be in Slytherin. (Surprised?)

If I were a mythical creature, I would be a Unicorn. (wtf? Can't I be a DRAGON!?)

If I were a country I would be the UK.

My inner European is British. (Blimey!)

If I were a flavour it would be MARMITE.

I was a "Stingy Gladiator" in a former life. (Rooaarrr!)

My inner age is 23. (Yes, 23. I am not dyslexic.)

Trans-What-Ite?

There's a phenomenon that occurs in Calgary every year. Beginning first week in July, for 10 days, the city hosts "The Greatest Outdoor Show On Earth": The Calgary Stampede. Now, aside from the influx of tourists, cowboys, farm animals, etc the BIGGEST change we see in the city are what I lovingly refer to as "The TransWESTite". Ordinary people with otherwise ordinary wardobes pull from under their beds the Rubbermaid container which stores their cowboy/western gear that they will adorn for the next 10 days. The Transwestite can be found boarding buses and trains to work in cowboy boots, cowboy shirts, cowboy jeans, cowboy hats and cowboy accents. I do not subscribe to this phenomenon and find it oddly disturbing that an otherwise corporate/granola-ish city can be transformed, literally, overnight just from the scent of manure.

Jelly Bellies

So the world is pretty groovy when we have Sour Jelly Bellies. Perfect match for my personality. A bit of sweet, a bit off colour, and a lot of sour. To find a candy that suits oneself is a serious journey to the core of one's inner being. (Yes, I *am* full of crap). But seriously. If you were a candy, what would you be? As you know, I would be Sour Jelly Bellies. Now if you were a candy heart what would you say? Other than the ghey things like "be mine" and "you're sweet". I think most days I would hand myself out to people and say things like "you suck" and "run along and die now". Is that bishy?