I make me smile. :)
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
How-to
"Me? My job is to fight the world. You? Your job is to fight for me."
...
When someone is hurt or crying or both, you envelop them in your arms and make them believe that by doing so, you are going to protect them from all that is hurtful, even if what hurts them is you. You tell them it is going to be okay. If that is a lie, then you tell them anyway, and let the ensuing silence be filled with their sobs and your racing thoughts about how you can make it okay. You be soft. You tell them you understand. If you don't understand, then you try to, and store your questions about it for later. You do everything you can to draw out the sadness and make it go away or make it your own so you can help them carry the burden. You love them. You tell them and you show them. If that doesn't solve it, repeat until it does.
But only do it if you love them.
...
How to show them.
...
When someone is hurt or crying or both, you envelop them in your arms and make them believe that by doing so, you are going to protect them from all that is hurtful, even if what hurts them is you. You tell them it is going to be okay. If that is a lie, then you tell them anyway, and let the ensuing silence be filled with their sobs and your racing thoughts about how you can make it okay. You be soft. You tell them you understand. If you don't understand, then you try to, and store your questions about it for later. You do everything you can to draw out the sadness and make it go away or make it your own so you can help them carry the burden. You love them. You tell them and you show them. If that doesn't solve it, repeat until it does.
But only do it if you love them.
...
How to show them.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Pieces
If something's meant to happen, it will happen.
I don't know if I believe in that. As much as I want to, I can't believe in it all the time.
You deserve better. You deserve the best.
I think I already know that. I just don't want to have to do what I have to in order to get it.
We should go egg some houses.
...
I found the above in an email to myself, reminding me to post something about it...back in August.
I don't know if I believe in that. As much as I want to, I can't believe in it all the time.
You deserve better. You deserve the best.
I think I already know that. I just don't want to have to do what I have to in order to get it.
We should go egg some houses.
...
I found the above in an email to myself, reminding me to post something about it...back in August.
Some Company
What girl doesn't like surprises? These ones are perfect, and what's better (or worse) is that they're real.
Congrats to the married couple to be! To think--I was there from the beginning!
Also congrats to yet another Boo to be a part of another married couple to be. With all the details you've had go according to plan for you, I'm surprised you were surprised! But pleasantly so, I assure you.
...
Yes, I'm in despair, but only for a bit. I know where my feet are.
Congrats to the married couple to be! To think--I was there from the beginning!
Also congrats to yet another Boo to be a part of another married couple to be. With all the details you've had go according to plan for you, I'm surprised you were surprised! But pleasantly so, I assure you.
...
Yes, I'm in despair, but only for a bit. I know where my feet are.
Vent
Sometimes you have so much pent up inside that you just want to scream, but you don't want to be heard because then someone might either try to offer you bad advice that you didn't want, or tell you what you already knew but were avoiding anyway.
When I need to yell, I do it on paper. That way, as much as I say, and as loudly as I scream it, no one needs to know.
But when I still need someone to know, I tell someone who doesn't care.
When I need to yell, I do it on paper. That way, as much as I say, and as loudly as I scream it, no one needs to know.
But when I still need someone to know, I tell someone who doesn't care.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Retail Relief
It's amazing how much retail therapy can work for you, even if it IS a temporary fix; a quick escape from the bigger things in life. Usually you find yourself ing a funk because things aren't going your way; you have no control and everyone is telling you what you should or shouldn't be doing.
Enter retail therapy.
Suddenly you're in wreckless control; doing what you probably shouldn't but enjoying yourself. Suddenly you're doing what you want, and no one's telling you otherwise--what store is going to stop you from spending? And suddenly, your mind is so far off from what was bothering you in the first place, you're free from the looming of your stress; exactly what you needed to re-collect yourself.
Sure, afterwards you're left with a bunch of bills to pay and then you're back to the grind, but a few moments of sanity, I think, are worth it.
...
Alternatively, you could drive your brother around the city, dropping off resumes with the promise of not having to eat alone at the end of it all. That beats over-thinking by yourself at home.
Enter retail therapy.
Suddenly you're in wreckless control; doing what you probably shouldn't but enjoying yourself. Suddenly you're doing what you want, and no one's telling you otherwise--what store is going to stop you from spending? And suddenly, your mind is so far off from what was bothering you in the first place, you're free from the looming of your stress; exactly what you needed to re-collect yourself.
Sure, afterwards you're left with a bunch of bills to pay and then you're back to the grind, but a few moments of sanity, I think, are worth it.
...
Alternatively, you could drive your brother around the city, dropping off resumes with the promise of not having to eat alone at the end of it all. That beats over-thinking by yourself at home.
The bright effect
Today's just one of those days that I'd rather be at home, letting all the sunlight I can stream through the windows, having the music up full blast, and be dancing in clothes too big that really don't belong to me at all.
...
Today's random playlist, accompanied by the awesome sunshine out is hurtling me back to memories of the simpler days. When school was a pleasure, work was optional, and company was always in abundance. Just the last week--especially the past few days--has held a little too much responsibility for me. While I'm up to the challenge, I can't help but stress when the onus is not completely on me and I'm forced to rely on someone else who can't keep up. No matter how deep a hole I fall into, I know I can always dig myself out, I'm only worried when someone falls in with me; will I be strong enough for the two of us?
(I'm actually now picturing a dirt hole and me struggling to lift someone out with my bum wrist.)
...
The hardest thing about writing stories is sharing them. I love to write stories, I love to tell stories, but once I publish them, they're left up to the reader's interpretation and that's the scary part. I'm happy to have everyone relate personally to a story one way or another, but I'm afraid when people see too much of themselves in it and mull over the notion I was writing about them and only them. Stories borrow from real life--that's why they seem real. But the only life that I know how to tell about, is my own; the rest, I have to make up.
...
My hand cream is perfumed and is giving me a head ache.
...
Mood: Decidedly lonely.
...
Today's random playlist, accompanied by the awesome sunshine out is hurtling me back to memories of the simpler days. When school was a pleasure, work was optional, and company was always in abundance. Just the last week--especially the past few days--has held a little too much responsibility for me. While I'm up to the challenge, I can't help but stress when the onus is not completely on me and I'm forced to rely on someone else who can't keep up. No matter how deep a hole I fall into, I know I can always dig myself out, I'm only worried when someone falls in with me; will I be strong enough for the two of us?
(I'm actually now picturing a dirt hole and me struggling to lift someone out with my bum wrist.)
...
The hardest thing about writing stories is sharing them. I love to write stories, I love to tell stories, but once I publish them, they're left up to the reader's interpretation and that's the scary part. I'm happy to have everyone relate personally to a story one way or another, but I'm afraid when people see too much of themselves in it and mull over the notion I was writing about them and only them. Stories borrow from real life--that's why they seem real. But the only life that I know how to tell about, is my own; the rest, I have to make up.
...
My hand cream is perfumed and is giving me a head ache.
...
Mood: Decidedly lonely.
Friday, February 20, 2009
A break from the system
I got home from work today at 11:45pm. I got yelled at first thing this morning for getting to work ontime. I was interrogated and told I was wrong 3 times before it was realized that I was right all along. I was asked to head a project, then scolded for doing a good job. I had to apologize to someone for having done what he was told by someone else. I rolled up my sleeves and dug in.
...
The snow fell while I was confined to the compound that makes up my office. I came out to find it a blustering and windswept sort of snow. As I drove home, I discovered it changed to a fat, thick, poor-visibility and slippery sort of snow. By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was a windblown, snow-globe, big flakes sort of snow.
It's the kind of snow out that when you look up into the sky and watch the snow fall towards you, you can see to infinity, and you get dizzy. I like that kind of snow.
...
The snow fell while I was confined to the compound that makes up my office. I came out to find it a blustering and windswept sort of snow. As I drove home, I discovered it changed to a fat, thick, poor-visibility and slippery sort of snow. By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was a windblown, snow-globe, big flakes sort of snow.
It's the kind of snow out that when you look up into the sky and watch the snow fall towards you, you can see to infinity, and you get dizzy. I like that kind of snow.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Blogger's Random Profile Questions
If you were invited to dinner with cannibals, what would you wear?
Camouflage. Camouflage and spiky armour.
You get to ride the big roller coaster three times in a row. What will keep your dad from taking a bite out of your candy apple?
My mother nagging him about how he's a perfect candidate for diabetes, how he should have eaten properly at lunch-time so that he wouldn't be hungry now, how he's always stuffing himself with junk.
Whoops! Your tongue is now a magnet. Whatever will you use for silverware?
This question was weak. Who needs silverware?
Paper or briefs?
Well, while I prefer to read the paper, I don't get it on a daily basis, so I get my news through the short taglines that gmail throws across the top of my inbox, or from the info blurbs on the radio. Sometimes I'll be around in time for the evening news, if not the 11 o'clock. That was the question, right? If we weren't talking about the way I prefer to digest my news, and were really talking about undies, well, see above...
...why bother?
Why don't you ever wear a scarf? It doesn't need to be cold outside for your neck to feel naked.
Stupid, irrelevant question; I love scarves.
Your pajamas have duckies on them. Why did you switch from choo-choos?
Because I was tired of everyone seeing my jammies and making that damned joke from the Simpsons...nobody "choo-choo-chooses" anyone anymore. That and mom always likes to say "Lord love a duck" when she see the things I get myself into.
What kind of tape is best for creating a sculpture?
Why, sculpting tape, of course!
Never mind the turtle. Don't you think you're sure to win?
No. I suck at races. I have no stamina whatsoever. When I train at running, I don't get faster, I just get better at making it to the finish line without keeling over right after.
...
Okay, so that last one is the one you'll see up on my profile. This again wasn't a terribly revealing exercise, but I felt more of a need to write than a need to go to sleep. And the other stuff I might have thought about writing was too grumpy to allow myself to mull over anyway.
Camouflage. Camouflage and spiky armour.
You get to ride the big roller coaster three times in a row. What will keep your dad from taking a bite out of your candy apple?
My mother nagging him about how he's a perfect candidate for diabetes, how he should have eaten properly at lunch-time so that he wouldn't be hungry now, how he's always stuffing himself with junk.
Whoops! Your tongue is now a magnet. Whatever will you use for silverware?
This question was weak. Who needs silverware?
Paper or briefs?
Well, while I prefer to read the paper, I don't get it on a daily basis, so I get my news through the short taglines that gmail throws across the top of my inbox, or from the info blurbs on the radio. Sometimes I'll be around in time for the evening news, if not the 11 o'clock. That was the question, right? If we weren't talking about the way I prefer to digest my news, and were really talking about undies, well, see above...
...why bother?
Why don't you ever wear a scarf? It doesn't need to be cold outside for your neck to feel naked.
Stupid, irrelevant question; I love scarves.
Your pajamas have duckies on them. Why did you switch from choo-choos?
Because I was tired of everyone seeing my jammies and making that damned joke from the Simpsons...nobody "choo-choo-chooses" anyone anymore. That and mom always likes to say "Lord love a duck" when she see the things I get myself into.
What kind of tape is best for creating a sculpture?
Why, sculpting tape, of course!
Never mind the turtle. Don't you think you're sure to win?
No. I suck at races. I have no stamina whatsoever. When I train at running, I don't get faster, I just get better at making it to the finish line without keeling over right after.
...
Okay, so that last one is the one you'll see up on my profile. This again wasn't a terribly revealing exercise, but I felt more of a need to write than a need to go to sleep. And the other stuff I might have thought about writing was too grumpy to allow myself to mull over anyway.
Those 25 things...
On FB, there's a note making the rounds where once you're tagged, you're supposed to write "25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you" and then let everyone know about it by paying it forward and tagging another round of inductees. I was interested in doing it, but doing it there was just too bait. FB is about networking with people; with people's people. And there are some people's people that I just would rather not be linked to or sharing things with.
Irregardless, it's an exercise interesting enough to have piqued my writing itch.
Irregardless, it's an exercise interesting enough to have piqued my writing itch.
- Much of what I write means more than what it would appear to mean...unless I don't want it to.
- My name used to be spelled differently until I was 4--but I learned both ways.
- I love to travel.
- I want to get married.
- I want to have kids.
- I'm terrified I won't accomplish the above three before I'm thirty.
- I prefer softer, sadder music to most others.
- People like to try to be my friend more than I try to be theirs.
- Though hard as it is to become friends with someone, I am ridiculously loyal once that commitment has been made.
- I love to be in love.
- I am confident I will never find someone as romantic as I am.
- As spontaneous as I like to be, I have to be in a good routine which I feel comfortable deviating from before just doing things.
- While I am not a gambler, nor do I buy tickets on a regular basis, I fully expect to win the lottery one day.
- I am an optimist who can hold onto realism.
- My dream would be to be a permanent student--but one who learns of the weird and wonderful. A few months of dance, of outdoor survival, of flight training, horse-back riding, scuba, ancient civilizations...
- I pride myself on worldly/cultural knowledge, etiquette, and use of tact.
- If I can break something down into a repetitious routine, I can get really, really good at it.
- I didn't like eating eggs until just recently, despite having worked at a breakfast restaurant.
- My dream job would have me telling stories with pictures.
- I'm still uncomfortable with knees, and can't drink water while in the bathroom, or from the bathroom tap.
- I enjoy being intimidating to men, but hate having to be the one to do the breaking up because I know when to call a spade a spade.
- I've had a teddy bear named Bear Bear since I was 2-3 years old. I still kiss him goodnight on occasion, and can't sleep if I don't know where he is.
- Despite my outwardly disposition and general character, I love being taken care of, babied, and being a suck.
- I am self-conscious of my Cantonese/Toy-San. Even if I know how to respond to a question, I will choose to do so in English if I can.
- I think I did a bad job on this exercise--I feel I learned more about my friends than they would have about me from reading this. But there are still things just not fit for the internet--FB, blog, or not. :)
- I'm great at learning things on my own; I just spent an hour on teaching myself how to edit my blog template code so that it would FINALLY should unordered and ordered lists properly.
...
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Romance in absentia
Being a romantic, I always was of the notion that love would find me unexpectedly; in the streets, on the elevator, in a foreign city. Instead of love finding me, I'm finding couples finding love in each other as they walk down the streets, ride the elevators, all in pairs, and in this foreign city. Ugh. If you're trying not to remind yourself of how alone you are on Valentine's Day, don't spend that weekend in a hotel...they're everywhere.
...
When you're in love, you sing them songs like this, and look at each other the way they do in this video.
...
Everywhere I'm looking now
I'm surrounded by your embrace
Baby I can see your halo
You know you're my saving grace
You're everything I need and more
It's written all over your face
Baby I can feel your halo
Pray it won't fade away
...
Everything and more.
...
When you're in love, you sing them songs like this, and look at each other the way they do in this video.
...
Everywhere I'm looking now
I'm surrounded by your embrace
Baby I can see your halo
You know you're my saving grace
You're everything I need and more
It's written all over your face
Baby I can feel your halo
Pray it won't fade away
...
Everything and more.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Overly seasoned
It's 11pm and I'm lazing in bed, not packing. I suppose I HAVE done this a few too many times, but still, shouldn't I have learned by now?
Perhaps New York just feels that much like home.
Perhaps New York just feels that much like home.
Accidentally learning
In trying to change my status for chatting on Google Talk, I discovered that they had a curiously cute pre-set status line.
not available for dating
Even after I realized that I hadn't set myself to "not available," I kept it as my status. I like it--it's true!
...
On a completely unrelated topic: who DYES their dog?
not available for dating
Even after I realized that I hadn't set myself to "not available," I kept it as my status. I like it--it's true!
...
On a completely unrelated topic: who DYES their dog?
Monday, February 09, 2009
Along the highways...it takes a woman
On my way to and from work, I pass a snow-dump. Similar to a garbage-dump, it's where they bring truckloads of the stuff and dump them to form piles--or in this case, one huge pile--of it in an attempt to clear it from the streets. Typically, as in the picture below, this pile is so massive that it's not until well into spring or even nearly summer that this thing will melt.
One thing missing from the picture, however, is a little touch of Canadian spirit. It was there last year, and this year I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of it being bravely installed this year. It would appear that each year, when it is suspected that this man-made snow mountain has reached its peak, one lone soul will climb to its pinnacle, armed with a flag to proudly claim the spectacle's nationality. And so, I watched a safety-vested (sans harness though) mountaineer scale the artificial cliffs to plant a Canadian flag atop the snow-capped, well, snow. I've looked for it every day as I drive by and it's still flying proudly.
...
Another sight I've encountered along my drive home--this one during the hours-long traffic-jammed snow-day drives--is a lone animal, frolicking alongside the hundreds of stuck cars along the highway. There's a patch of empty space on my way to the highway. It's bordered by the highway itself, and the curvature of the on-ramp I traverse daily. Loosely the size of an elongated baseball diamond, it's a barren piece of land that's completely snowcovered at the moment. All alone, this dog or wolf or something of the like is king of this domain. Both times I've seen him now, he was frolicking through the snow, leaping and bounding at something unseen.
The first time I saw him, I thought that the traffic had been so bad that his owner had pulled the car over (because there was a car on the shoulder that day) to let his dog out for a break. You'd never seen a puppy more playful. The second time he caught my attention I realized that he hadn't belonged to anyone in a car, but was there of his own accord. I spent my inching-along daydreamily musing to myself about the solitary but wild life he must live; playing with the imaginary, fending for himself, being the lone wolf he probably wasn't born to be.
The third incident that I encountered him in wasn't a visual one, it was a audio one.
"Oh! Guess what I saw on my way home today along the highway? A wolf or a fox or something stuck in the snow!"
"Oh him! I've noticed him a couple of times now. I guess he's there pretty regularly. He's so playful, always leaping around in the snow."
"Oh no. When I saw him, he looked cold and miserable! I called animal control to go get him!"
"Oh."
So much for visions of the wild life.
...
One thing I pride myself on as a female is my independence from all things damsel-in-distress. While I have a bum wrist, yes, I have to sometimes turn to others (sometimes male) to help me staple things or open jars. But as for the other, "manly" things, I can still manage those on my own. Take my TV, for instance, I did all the hooking up by myself--speakers, cable and all.
Another classic example was set forth today: jump-starting someone else's battery. At the end of the work day today, I was asked if I could help boost someone's car. Of course, being the great comrade I am, I obliged. After donning my coat and grabbing my keys, I got outside of the office to find 4 guys and a girl, already at it. It was a poor Honda Civic that had lost its juice, and the girl had pulled up her Nissan 350Z alongside of it to try to lend the much needed boost.
She'd popped the hood, and all the men were crowded around, debating on which node was positive, which was negative, and how to attach the booster cables (okay, they had weird clips on the ends, but still). I watched for 10 minutes and 2 unsuccessful attempts before I strode off to my car to pull it to the other side of the Civic, mounting the curb a la emergency rescue vehicle style.
I pulled out my longer, more practical jumper cables, popped my hood, and had that little Civic running in 45 seconds flat. *sigh*
And that wasn't the first time I'd done such a deed at the office. The last time had been for one of the more senior staff when his rental car died. Again, I authoritatively drove on over and hauled out the ever-reliable jumper cables. Only this time, Senior Staff had tried to help.
"Black to black, red to red!!!"
"It doesn't matter which colours go to which, as long as they're the same."
"It DOES matter when I've already got MINE hooked up!"
"Oh...I guess you'd better do it then."
Damn right I did it. Why is it of all the drivers in the office, I'm the only one with a set of cables who not only can JUMP the cars, but can do it always level-headedly?
...
Finally, a few weeks back, I found myself with a hopelessly flat tire. I had just arrived to pick up my passenger when we decided it was irreparable by extra inflation ("that's rubber on rim!"). Initial attempts at removing the damn spare tire cover failed due to it being so cold it was frozen in place--any attempts to coax it off were resulting in tears to the case. Caught between a rock and a hard place (we needed to be somewhere), a call to CAA was placed; he was convinced we were stuck. While my caller was on hold, and then having a deflating-sounding conversation, I made my decision.
I am GOING to change this tire.
And so I did. I donned my mitts and went at the tire cover with new-found ambition. I half-pried, half-tore at that thing, until it came off piece by piece. Cover off, I started wrenching the lug-nuts loose and before long, I had the spare ready to mount. My previously defeated passenger had returned by then to deliver the news that there was no CAA to come, but instead stared in wonderment at my progress.
He helped me dismantle my trunk ("I have a table back here?") in search of the car jack, and when we came upon the place it was said to be (according to the car manual), tried to pull it out of its place.
"I don't even know if they gave you a jack!"
"Sure they did. They had to have!"
"Ugh. Then it's stuck."
Defeated anew, he turned away. I conferred with my manual.
Twist the jack counter-clockwise, then lift straight upwards to remove it.
*Twist* *Lift*
"Got it."
And so, I let him do the rest. I felt I'd done enough of the man-work by then. Back in the car, back in business, and nearly home by then, my passenger turned to me with a question.
"I was really impressed that you got the tire cover off. I have to ask--how did you do that?"
"Honestly--and while I'm a great story-teller and all, I'm not saying this for dramatic effect; it's the truth--sheer determination. I said I was going to change the tire, and I did it."
"Huh."
...
Leave it to a woman. And just for the record, I didn't have to consult the manual to find out how to change a flat tire--I've known how to do that for a long while now--I consulted it to find out where all of my tire-changing tools were. It's a good tip: every car is different, so rather than floundering around trying to guess where all of this stuff might be stored, just take a second to read. It's a good way to distract yourself and keep level-headed too--I speak from experience.
...
Finally finally, a line (not my own) to describe a male who could not change his own flat tire, who probably didn't consult his manual to find his tools, and who had to be rescued not by someone else, but by someone else's roadside assistance:
"A moronic brainwave of historical propotions."
I only wish I could claim authorship. :)
One thing missing from the picture, however, is a little touch of Canadian spirit. It was there last year, and this year I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of it being bravely installed this year. It would appear that each year, when it is suspected that this man-made snow mountain has reached its peak, one lone soul will climb to its pinnacle, armed with a flag to proudly claim the spectacle's nationality. And so, I watched a safety-vested (sans harness though) mountaineer scale the artificial cliffs to plant a Canadian flag atop the snow-capped, well, snow. I've looked for it every day as I drive by and it's still flying proudly.
...
Another sight I've encountered along my drive home--this one during the hours-long traffic-jammed snow-day drives--is a lone animal, frolicking alongside the hundreds of stuck cars along the highway. There's a patch of empty space on my way to the highway. It's bordered by the highway itself, and the curvature of the on-ramp I traverse daily. Loosely the size of an elongated baseball diamond, it's a barren piece of land that's completely snowcovered at the moment. All alone, this dog or wolf or something of the like is king of this domain. Both times I've seen him now, he was frolicking through the snow, leaping and bounding at something unseen.
The first time I saw him, I thought that the traffic had been so bad that his owner had pulled the car over (because there was a car on the shoulder that day) to let his dog out for a break. You'd never seen a puppy more playful. The second time he caught my attention I realized that he hadn't belonged to anyone in a car, but was there of his own accord. I spent my inching-along daydreamily musing to myself about the solitary but wild life he must live; playing with the imaginary, fending for himself, being the lone wolf he probably wasn't born to be.
The third incident that I encountered him in wasn't a visual one, it was a audio one.
"Oh! Guess what I saw on my way home today along the highway? A wolf or a fox or something stuck in the snow!"
"Oh him! I've noticed him a couple of times now. I guess he's there pretty regularly. He's so playful, always leaping around in the snow."
"Oh no. When I saw him, he looked cold and miserable! I called animal control to go get him!"
"Oh."
So much for visions of the wild life.
...
One thing I pride myself on as a female is my independence from all things damsel-in-distress. While I have a bum wrist, yes, I have to sometimes turn to others (sometimes male) to help me staple things or open jars. But as for the other, "manly" things, I can still manage those on my own. Take my TV, for instance, I did all the hooking up by myself--speakers, cable and all.
Another classic example was set forth today: jump-starting someone else's battery. At the end of the work day today, I was asked if I could help boost someone's car. Of course, being the great comrade I am, I obliged. After donning my coat and grabbing my keys, I got outside of the office to find 4 guys and a girl, already at it. It was a poor Honda Civic that had lost its juice, and the girl had pulled up her Nissan 350Z alongside of it to try to lend the much needed boost.
She'd popped the hood, and all the men were crowded around, debating on which node was positive, which was negative, and how to attach the booster cables (okay, they had weird clips on the ends, but still). I watched for 10 minutes and 2 unsuccessful attempts before I strode off to my car to pull it to the other side of the Civic, mounting the curb a la emergency rescue vehicle style.
I pulled out my longer, more practical jumper cables, popped my hood, and had that little Civic running in 45 seconds flat. *sigh*
And that wasn't the first time I'd done such a deed at the office. The last time had been for one of the more senior staff when his rental car died. Again, I authoritatively drove on over and hauled out the ever-reliable jumper cables. Only this time, Senior Staff had tried to help.
"Black to black, red to red!!!"
"It doesn't matter which colours go to which, as long as they're the same."
"It DOES matter when I've already got MINE hooked up!"
"Oh...I guess you'd better do it then."
Damn right I did it. Why is it of all the drivers in the office, I'm the only one with a set of cables who not only can JUMP the cars, but can do it always level-headedly?
...
Finally, a few weeks back, I found myself with a hopelessly flat tire. I had just arrived to pick up my passenger when we decided it was irreparable by extra inflation ("that's rubber on rim!"). Initial attempts at removing the damn spare tire cover failed due to it being so cold it was frozen in place--any attempts to coax it off were resulting in tears to the case. Caught between a rock and a hard place (we needed to be somewhere), a call to CAA was placed; he was convinced we were stuck. While my caller was on hold, and then having a deflating-sounding conversation, I made my decision.
I am GOING to change this tire.
And so I did. I donned my mitts and went at the tire cover with new-found ambition. I half-pried, half-tore at that thing, until it came off piece by piece. Cover off, I started wrenching the lug-nuts loose and before long, I had the spare ready to mount. My previously defeated passenger had returned by then to deliver the news that there was no CAA to come, but instead stared in wonderment at my progress.
He helped me dismantle my trunk ("I have a table back here?") in search of the car jack, and when we came upon the place it was said to be (according to the car manual), tried to pull it out of its place.
"I don't even know if they gave you a jack!"
"Sure they did. They had to have!"
"Ugh. Then it's stuck."
Defeated anew, he turned away. I conferred with my manual.
Twist the jack counter-clockwise, then lift straight upwards to remove it.
*Twist* *Lift*
"Got it."
And so, I let him do the rest. I felt I'd done enough of the man-work by then. Back in the car, back in business, and nearly home by then, my passenger turned to me with a question.
"I was really impressed that you got the tire cover off. I have to ask--how did you do that?"
"Honestly--and while I'm a great story-teller and all, I'm not saying this for dramatic effect; it's the truth--sheer determination. I said I was going to change the tire, and I did it."
"Huh."
...
Leave it to a woman. And just for the record, I didn't have to consult the manual to find out how to change a flat tire--I've known how to do that for a long while now--I consulted it to find out where all of my tire-changing tools were. It's a good tip: every car is different, so rather than floundering around trying to guess where all of this stuff might be stored, just take a second to read. It's a good way to distract yourself and keep level-headed too--I speak from experience.
...
Finally finally, a line (not my own) to describe a male who could not change his own flat tire, who probably didn't consult his manual to find his tools, and who had to be rescued not by someone else, but by someone else's roadside assistance:
"A moronic brainwave of historical propotions."
I only wish I could claim authorship. :)
Friday, February 06, 2009
Song of the Moment: "You Belong to Me" - Jason Wade
See the pyramids around the Nile
Watch the sun rise from the tropic isle
Just remember darling all the while
You belong to me
See the market place in old Algiers
Send me photographs and souvenirs
Just remember when a dream appears
You belong to me
And I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too
Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me
Oh I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too
Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me
...
Don't let the lyrics fool you--it's another sunny day out. :)
Watch the sun rise from the tropic isle
Just remember darling all the while
You belong to me
See the market place in old Algiers
Send me photographs and souvenirs
Just remember when a dream appears
You belong to me
And I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too
Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me
Oh I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too
Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me
...
Don't let the lyrics fool you--it's another sunny day out. :)
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Sunny
Despite the BITTER Canadian cold of the last few days (including today), the sun was out and shining full force today. My office before this one used to be a windowless one (if you don't count the one we DREW on the wall), but now that a whole WALL of it is glass, sunlight has a direct effect on my mood.
I was in a good mood today.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Movie night at my place!
A million options, 3 hours, 3 stores, and 2 credit cards later, I was the proud owner of a brand new theatre system. Yum. I was going to name him Sam, but that name was already fondly taken.
"Extended warranty? How could I lose?!"
Yeah, I saved myself $349...a bit of a gamble, but life wouldn't be interesting if we didn't take risks...
...besides, I have 30 days to change my mind. :D Thanks to Dawson for helping me make up my mind, and for convincing me I wasn't crazy for thinking the top of the line was a little too ugly. Oh, and for lugging it home, dragging it up, then down the stairs, then helping connect all the dots. And *hopefully* for buying me a new BluRay to watch.
"Extended warranty? How could I lose?!"
Yeah, I saved myself $349...a bit of a gamble, but life wouldn't be interesting if we didn't take risks...
...besides, I have 30 days to change my mind. :D Thanks to Dawson for helping me make up my mind, and for convincing me I wasn't crazy for thinking the top of the line was a little too ugly. Oh, and for lugging it home, dragging it up, then down the stairs, then helping connect all the dots. And *hopefully* for buying me a new BluRay to watch.
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