Perspective

This morning I couldn't decide whether I should wear my chocolate brown stiletto boots or my pink heels. I asked Amara for advice and she said to go with the heels.
At the end of the day as I was changing back into my winter dress boots, my ring got caught and put a hole in my fish nets.

When your biggest problems of the day are which shoes to wear and ripping a hole in your $10 stockings, life really isn't that bad.

I've got nothin' to complain about.

How do you sleep at night?

"Daylight savings time changes, sounds riveting," I said, reading the subject line of the e-mail I had just picked up from the printer for Kat.

"Actually that's one of the more interesting ones," she replied. Kat was working on an announcement to go out to Company staff. I expressed some words of sympathy somewhere in the range of "announcements must suck" to which she responded,

"I still think you have the crap job."

Some would take offense to this kind of comment, but I laughed because it's true. My job, as it was explained to me after I started, was created by taking everyone else's most time consuming and annoying task and assigning it to one person. It hasn't killed me yet.

This week I decided to try to get out of jury duty. It was a dream opportunity, but when I thought about it, it could also royally screw me out of some well deserved vacation time. I'm considering going somewhere in April/May. I really couldn't see my department being very willing to let me take off right away after coming back from serving on a jury for a month. So I got my boss to do up a "please excuse Jill from jury duty" note. I think I may have to post it on the fridge or something so that when I am feeling defeated I can be reminded of how important I am. Here's what it says:

We request that Jill B@rr0tt be excused from jury duty.

Jill is the only staff member who co-ordinates the required review of a wide variety of advertising and promotional materials that Good Wooden Leg advisors across the country must have reviewed and approved. This approval process is required by federal and provincial financial services industry regulations.

It would be impossible to temporarily replace her expertise with contract staff, and her absence for any extended period of time would compromise our advisors' ability to meet regulatory requirements for advertising and promotional materials.

That's some pretty strong language. I especially enjoy the part that calls me impossible to temporarily replace. Crap job or not, I am an important piece of red tape. That helps me sleep at night.

Kat I owe you ;)

a jill story in Chapters

I was bored tonight. Bored and had a headache. The outside conditions were favourable enough so I decided I had a craving for the bookstore. I don't think I've mentioned this before on my blog, or maybe I have once before, but it is entirely important enough to mention again that I love the bookstore. I love it so much I want to marry it and have little bookstore babies.

I love the moment I walk into the bookstore and am instantly greeted by that familiar smell of billions of pages waiting to be turned. I don't often have a book in mind when I visit the bookstore, I am quite happy to just browse all of the sections at random. I say browse but really, because I am so happy to be there I quite nearly pirouette from the popular paperbacks to the bargain bin bombs of literature. I wander and I think to myself how lovely it is to be in the presence of a universe of words all assembled neatly between shiny ready-to-be cracked covers. The only other place that gets me this excited is the stationery store--so much potential in the paper and pens just dying to meet and bring to life something fabulous that pleases the inspired writer. Whether they are mine or someone else's I just love words on a page.

On this particular occasion I found something I had to take home with me right at the beginning of my journey. The book is called Change the World 9 to 5. It is a book of 100 actions to change the world at work. It is part of something called the We are What We do movement, which aims to "Inspire people to use their everyday actions to change the world". Here are three of my favourite actions so far:

Action 076
Use one of these e-mail signatures:

Sorry this is an e-mail and not a face-to-face conversation

If e-mails save time, not printing them saves trees. (I wish I could apply this wisdom at work)

Be the change you want to see in the world

Never, ever use stuff like this:
Character is forged in a crucible of adversity

Action 086
Avoid waste
"...someone has calculated that if everyone in the UK offices saved one staple a day, that would be 120 tonnes of metal saved a year" (I bet I contribute a truckload of staples to that total, I am sad to say)

Action 089
Ring the IT help desk just to see how they are. (Hello, 1-900 Tech Support?)

For anyone who enjoyed RAK week, I think you would also enjoy this book, or the other publication titled Change the World for Ten Bucks. You can also visit the website here, for more ideas of small things you can do to make a difference and to sign up for a personal action tracker to help you keep track of the small things you do that matter. I already got to add action #5 "hug someone" and #7 "install at least one energy saving light bulb".

As you can see, I left the bookstore with my craving satisfied and a new found source of inspiration. What an awesome place.

Brains vs Brawn

I hung out with Rob, Chris, and Lisa tonight. We met up at Rob's and decided to go shoot some pool at Classic's on Portage. I thought pool was a very appropriate activity for the last day of Engineer week. I was also sporting my Google t-shirt which maybe made me look smarter but little else.

The place wasn't really busy when we arrived. I noticed a couple dressed in leather and jeans and wondered out loud if it was biker's night.

As the game got going and people were taking their shots, I was taking shots--with my camera that is--in between my turns. A middle aged guy at the table beside us stopped to ask, "hey, which one of you guys is Justin Timberlake; don't you just hate it when the paparazzi finds you?"

"He is," I said and pointed to Rob. "If you buy him a beer he'll even dance for you."

Not long after I was standing to the side when I found myself face to face with the old man bartender. "Hey, I've had some complaints," he said. "Are you takin' pictures of people?"

"Yeah, of my friends," I replied.

"Oh, well as long as it's only them," he said and left us alone.

I looked over at the Hells Angels Santa Claus and his bad perm job lady friend and suddenly wondered if I was going to get jumped and brass knuckled on the way out. I put the camera down for a while because I like my face the way it is thankyouverymuch. Maybe Vince is right, even St. James is on the wrong side of the river.

My billiards game is poor to say the least. Even still, I had a good time. Mostly I made things more interesting by dancing with my cue stick.

After pool we headed to Boston's Pizza for nachos and beer (yes, I made it out of the pool hall unscathed, in case you were actually worried).

Have you hugged an engineer today?

According to Google, the authority on everything (heh), it is Engineering Week. How did I miss that? They even have merchandise--I want the orange slinky.

Today is Introduce a Girl to Engineering day. I'm a girl but I've already been introduced to the iron ring mafia. Chris, Duane, Google boys, Kevin, Nusraat, Rob, Vince, I raise my naked pinky to you in salute. Maybe you think you're geeks, but I think I'm cooler because I know you.

Best Day Ever!*

I came home today, walked over to the kitchen table and saw that I had mail. When I saw the return address I got excited immediately.

"Awesome! I got..."

"Shhh!!" My sister, who was on the phone, turned around to glare at me.

"Oops, sorry," I said sheepishly. In all my excitement over the mail I didn't see her before I started to make my exclamation.

"Who's she on the phone with?" I asked my mom.

"I don't know, I think she's doing a survey or something."

My sister was randomly selected a few years ago to be a subject in a long study on high school kids and how they progress after grad or something like that. I figured they were calling her again now that she's nearing her university graduation.

A few minutes later she got off the phone and announced to me and my mom,

"I got the job!"

"Oh YAY!" I said and leaped off the couch. Last week Tracy interviewed for her dream job at the Children's Hospital. She was on edge all weekend wondering if she had done okay. From what she had told me about it, it certainly sounded like she aced it, but I could understand her anxiety. She actually let me play the big sister role for that one.

"Now what were you going on about?" Tracy asked after all the congratulatory words had been said.

I was beaming with pride as I announced, "I got picked for jury duty!"

Stop laughing! It's exciting in its own way. Think of how bloggable it will be! Well okay, first I have to go down to the law courts and actually get selected. I think there's a couple of rounds of elimination. Then there would be the trial that I probably couldn't talk about with my family let alone the world wide web. I think Good ol' Wooden Leg still pays me while I'm serving.

I have to go down there on March 29. I'll be sure to let you know how things go.

*As I am sure you know by now, I never exaggerate or get overly excited about anything so clearly this title is completely appropriate given the day's events.

Small Victories

Success in Pilates today. We've been working on this new pose called Front Splits. It's hard to describe unless you're familiar with Pilates equipment. I tried searching for a picture but could only find this, which is the prep pose to the actual pose. In the actual pose you're standing up, not hanging on to that bar, with your arms out to the side for balance, like this. Then you try to spread your legs out like in the first picture. Anyway, I stretched pretty far today! It was awesome! I also planked for a minute and 45 seconds. I wanted to go longer but Kerry told us to come up. Maybe it was the James Brown music that inspired me.

I just had to celebrate.

The great un-motivator

About six months ago (although it feels like a lifetime ago) I was talking to someone about our greatest fears. His was giving up, ceasing to live and merely existing. He asked me for mine but I didn't have an answer ready. It wasn't really something I had thought about before. (I'm fearless!) Finally, I responded with:

"I think, I'm afraid of finding out that caring doesn't matter. Caring is probably my strongest trait and worst character flaw. If I one day realized that caring couldn't really make a difference, it would destroy me. I'm not sure what exactly would have to happen for me to come to that conclusion, so maybe it's that particular event that I am actually afraid of. "

"Caring matters," he replied in a way that wasn't exactly comforting but more saying that my fear wasn't legitimate. (it's MY fear, how can you argue against someone's fear? Fears aren't rational.) He finished by adding,"whenever I've needed people they have been there for me and made clear that they cared. It made all the difference."

I argued back, "I see caring as a positive thing of course, that's easy. But I call it a flaw because it can also cause pain. Caring less would make my life much easier but then I and/or somebody else would lose out inevitably. So I guess it's caring till it kills".

Then I brought up a hypothetical situation. "You give up tomorrow. I would assume that this would involve some noticeable change in attitude that would be of a concern to your friends and family. This group, along with me, Miss Care Bear herself, would want to do everything possible to try to get you to turn around. So you either yield to the caring and stop giving up--what happens to your fear?-- or you don't, in which case caring has done nothing and my fear is realized".

We concluded that we essentially had the same fear. We agreed, and that was all that mattered at the time. About a month later I wouldn't have cared if we agreed or not, I'd just wish he'd answer.

Today I still believe in the same fear but I think I am now also burdened with a new one. I feel like there is something trying to tell me that I am not supposed to be here. While a long series of events seems to have lead me up to this point, it now feels like perhaps I am supposed to make a major change in direction and location. However, I can't really tell if this feeling is a gut instinct, or part of some dream my heart has created to find a new adventure. Either way, I have a hard time trusting the message. It seems that my instinct and my heart have led me down some pretty wicked paths over the last while. Maybe if I had just stuck with logic I could have avoided a few messes.

I think of that little house that seemed so right. I remember talking to my agent the day after the inspection. I had to make my mind up by 4:00 that afternoon. She told me that she had never come out of an inspection before not knowing what to do. It always seemed clear--yes the house is fine, or no, it's about to fall down. This time, she didn't know what to tell me.

"What does your gut say?" she asked me.

I almost laughed. "My gut checked out long ago," I said. While I had had "the feeling" almost immediately upon seeing the house that it was the one, at that point I no longer knew what to do. My heart was already feeling defeated though. I half wanted to ask her if she could recommend to me a dating service where I could find a rich old man to marry and buy me a pretty little house, filled with all the shoes I could ever ask for.

As you know, in the end I let my logical head make the final call to pass on the house. The foundation was questionable. Okay for the short term, but risky past five or seven years. My heart cried and my gut instinct completely lost its confidence. As a result, all I'm operating on these days is boring logic*.

Given the string of heartaches I've suffered, I'm really not excited to give heart and gut another chance, even though I desperately want to listen to them again. They're just more fun than logic, until we get into trouble that is. So here I am, pretty much paralyzed by my fear, and also afraid of missing out on some absolutely mind blowing adventure. I'm stuck and I guess I'm hoping someone or something pulls me out of the cement before I become part of the sidewalk.

*I actually wrote the first act of a play starring me, my logic, and my imagination. I kind of liked it. If you'd like to see it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you, or its secret location (yes, that secret location).

Back to your regularly scheduled programming

Random Acts of Kindness Week is pretty much over so go ahead and go back to being randomly unkind.

I think I pretty much did my last RAK deed on Thursday. I had my grandma over for dinner. After I got back from taking her home my sister announced that she should have come with me so we could have gone for dessert.

"Well I still have one shoe on and the truck is still warm," I replied.

"Okay, but I'm not changing out of my pajamas."

So we got into Truck and she directed me out of the driveway, down the street and westward via left/right instructions with no other hints as to where we were actually going.

We ended up at the McDonald's drive-thru, a first for Truck I believe, where she treated me to a hot cherry pie. Yes, my sister does love me, not that there was ever any doubt.

I don't think I did any good deeds on Friday. Well, I did take Elmo for a walk that he was pretty happy about, but that doesn't really count. Or does it? I kept getting caught up in what does and does not count. Who's really counting anyway?

I knew back in November that I wanted to do something for RAK week but I didn't think I'd find anyone other than Joanna to join me. Some people did get into it though once they saw how committed I was to it, which was pretty cool. If anything, I enjoyed the week for the challenge and the new experiences I picked up. It was encouraging knowing that sometimes even the smallest gestures could yield big results. On the other hand, there were some gestures requiring more effort, time, or other sacrifices which were not met with much perceivable response. I found this very interesting. I have a tendency to over do things in a few aspects of my life and it's true, bigger is not always better.

***

It's early Saturday morning and I just got home from Tavern downtown where I joined Tracy (designer, not sister) in celebrating her birthday. I did the acid green drinks tonight instead of the pretty blue. The group was mostly work people, which was a fun change because we don't usually go out after work together. It's weird because we're a pretty close and fun group but all socializing seems to stop at 4:00.

Truthfully, I'm only blogging tonight because I'm tired of opening my blog and seeing the "la la la la" picture. I think I'm getting a craving for some anonymity again. I hear Fargo calling too.

Can you take my picture, cuz I won't remember

Once again I am too sleepy and fuzzy to write with any kind of flair. I'm not really sure if I'm going to hit the publish button or not. (editor's note, I did not hit the publish button until 8:30 this morning because Joanna made me. I'm such a push over :P )

Joanna was sad today because she does not have a Valentine. I was not sad because Valentine's day does not make me sad. I was happy because I had been saving a pink sweater to wear especially for the holiday. Yay, virgin pink sweater! So Joanna and I went on a date. She picked me up and we went to The Tavern on Pembina. I paid but I told her I would not kiss her good night.

Pretty blue drinks
Look,I got earrings for V-day

Mmm, wrist.
Lemon I love you!
And she's singing again.

Smile like you mean it

Today is February 14. Valentine's Day. It's kind of a dumb holiday because the married and long time attached couples don't pay much attention to it while the single folk feel like crap because they can't celebrate it. Well, I'm single and I don't feel like crap today. Actually, I haven't had this good of a day since my birthday.

I know a lot of my single friends, especially my guy friends get pretty bummed about Valentine's Day. When I found out about RAK week I knew I had to do something about it because A) I love the idea of RAKs and B) because I thought it might be a good distraction for my friends who ordinarily spend the day feeling lonely.

I had an awesome day today. My RAK work finally seemed to be doing something. My aunt e-mailed me this morning:

Hope you are having a good day. Well you made Uncle Brian’s day yesterday he told me you were a wonderful girl and he is so happy you bought a truck. He told everyone who came in to his room today that he had a special visitor last night. He told me that you made a good choice for the colour of the truck and he looks forward to seeing the truck once he is out of the hospital.

PS … saw a street guy this morning on my way to see Lexi at the school and gave him $5 … he thanked me .. as well I bought the attendant who showers Uncle Brian a coffee … Both fellows were very happy.

I went to Starbucks at lunch today to treat myself to a latte and determined to RAK someone. I was kind of nervous as I approached the counter. If someone had been watching me carefully they may have thought I was going to rob the place (I was wearing my bad girl pink hat). I made my request and then I turned around to the person behind me and said, "and I'll buy whatever she's having because today is Random Acts of Kindness Day."

The girl looked at me and laughed.

"That's very nice of you but I actually work here so I get all my coffee for free" (she was clearly in on her day off as she was not in uniform). "But buy her a coffee," she said and pointed to the woman standing behind us.

So I went up to her, held out one of my little pink hearts and said, "Today is Random Acts of Kindness Day and I would like to buy you your coffee because I want to do something nice for a stranger."

"Ah, what?" She was clearly stunned. But she came and stood beside me at the counter and placed her order. She had a gold travel mug just like mine (if I believed in these things anymore I'd say it was meant to be). She wished me a happy Valentine's Day and that was that.

I had not felt that invigorated and inspired in a long time. It was super! And it only cost me $2.00 for a high that will last all day.

Later in the afternoon I went to talk to one of the designers. When I came back to my desk there was a Random Act of Dessert sitting by my mouse! How sweet!

Tonight Joanna is picking me up and we're going to hang out somewhere. I'm going to have some girly martinis and maybe bounce a little. Duane, I might just do a shot of tequila, in PUBLIC just for you. Hopefully my eyeballs don't pop out.

So whoever you are, if you're sad today, I hope you read this and can at least smile for me, or smile because I'm thinking of you.

Yes, you. Right now.

Me.

Thinking, thinking,

still thinking...la la la la...thinkinnnnnnng....yooouuuu...

RAK Day 2--is this week over yet?

I just got home from my latest RAK task. My great uncle is in the hospital. My aunt (his niece, not his wife) goes up to see him at least once every day. I called her up today to ask if I could go with her this afternoon. She picked me up at five and we headed to the St. Boniface.

I have not had the pleasure of spending much time in any of Winnipeg's hospitals. I was born in the Victoria and I've visited my grandma, grandpa and great-grandma there, but that's about the extent of my hospital experience so far. The Vic seems like a nice enough place for a hospital. The Saint B on the other hand is the saddest institution I've ever seen. The walls are the colour of cold oatmeal and the floor nearly matches. Walking through the halls I thought I was in the basement. I followed my aunt to my uncle's wing all the while looking for an "under construction" sign as an excuse for the cold decorating.

"Oh, there he is," she said. I looked around the hall and all I saw was this tired old man slumped over in his chair. We walked over to him and he looked up. Wow. That was him. I knew it had been a while since I last saw him but it was all I could do to hold back the shock at how much he had declined. I still remember him as a barrel chested man with strong arms covered in dark hair. I remember watching him smoke cigars on the patio at his house. I remember how he was always smartly dressed in shirts and sweaters. Now here he was, smaller, slouched, and wearing a dull and drab blue hospital gown.

We took him to his room and sat him in a chair in time for his dinner to arrive. My aunt chatted away while I perched on the edge of the bed. I didn't say much. My uncle mostly responded with "yes", "no", "hmph" and I think he got more words in than I did. He recognized me although he couldn't remember what he had for lunch that day. His mind is all there but his spirit is weak.

After he finished eating my aunt asked if he would like to see what I brought to show him.

"Yeah," he answered and looked over at me. I reached into my purse and pulled out the die cast nearly exact model of Truck, same colour and everything. Amara had given Baby Truck to me for Christmas as my Secret Santa. I brought it to show my uncle because in the summer time he said he wanted me to take him for a ride. This was the best I could do for him today.

I set Baby Truck on the table and my uncle examined it.

"Same colour?" he asked.

"Yeah, but my tailgate doesn't fall open like that."

He studied it from all angles, turned it upside down and asked me how many doors mine had.

"Four, just like that one. It's an extended cab too. They open suicide style."

I asked him if he ever had a truck.

"Ford F150. Green," he told me. "Mine had a cap on the back."

"Yeah, that's an old man's truck," I said. I always swore my baby would never wear a cap. My uncle laughed.

"You don't see too many girls driving trucks," he said.

"I know, it's different. It's fun. One day it's going to move me out too."

By 6:30 he was getting tired so my aunt helped him into bed, tucked him in, and turned out the light. My act there was done.

"I'm really glad you brought that truck," my aunt said as we walked to the parking lot. "I think he really liked it. He'll probably talk about your visit for days."

I guess I did a good thing, but it seemed so small and like something I should have done anyway. That was kind of the theme for today it seemed. Either the act seemed not very special or I wasn't sure just how much effect it had made. When I decided to commit to this challenge I wanted to see results. Today it seems that I didn't quite see results, but upon reflection, I see how at least I did make a conscious effort when I could have done nothing. I think that's all that really matters. I made a difference to at least one person today. I can't ask for much else.

Here's a summary of the other things I did today.



Cookies

Joanna and I hiked it into the village to deliver a plate of cookies to the fire hall. The guys seemed to be confused by gesture and perhaps thought that we made the whole thing up just so we could check out some firemen. They happily accepted the cookies anyway.


Random Valentine greetings

Finally, Vince got one of my cards. Apparently he was having a gloomy day today so the card cheered him up. That made me feel a little better. Please think some sunny thoughts for my buddy Vince.


New efforts

I sent a note to someone in the office today who always makes the place a little happier for me. She is such a warm and caring person. I told her that some days I get so busy buzzing around and just trying to do what needs doing but I end up feeling kind of invisible. Whenever she stops me and says, "hey Jilly, how's it going?" it just makes everything better. One day she just looked at me and asked, "Do you need a hug, Jilly?" I don't remember feeling particularly blue at the time but it sure felt nice to know that someone was looking out for me. So I thanked her for making my day whenever she is around. She wrote back and was really appreciative of the note.

I also e-mailed a friend of mine who works for a radio station in Fargo, ND. I had to send her a note because I met her in a random way through blogs. We have had two failed attempts at meeting up so far but I'm sure we'll get together soon. I owe her a pretty martini for a huge favour she did for me on my birthday. I asked her to mention RAK Week on her show. I'm pretty confident she'll come through.


Near the end of the day I e-mailed Kasia to ask for an update on the Vancouver RAK efforts as I was in need of some good news. She sent me an encouraging note in an e-card that had me laughing out loud. Thanks Kasia!

Random Acts of Kindness Day 1

I was feeling pretty anxious about today, a lot of pressure to do something nice for someone. All day I was looking around going, "what can I do?!" Here's what I've done so far to celebrate RAK week:

1. Randomly mailed out valentines to people from the phone book. Also sent some to some friends in far off places and a few local radio station morning shows. In each card I included one of my Share a little heart/RAK 2007 pink hearts. The cards should have arrived in the mail today. Anybody check their mailbox lately?
2. A new guy started in our department today so I sent him a welcome greeting wishing him a good start and offering my support.
3. I took my sister's car to the car wash tonight and put some gas in it. She's been really busy lately studying and her poor car was pretty dirty.
4. I went to Joanna's tonight to bake cookies with her. We made a package for the department (shh if you're reading this before Jo gets in) and we also wrapped some plates up for the two security desks and the local fire hall. We plan to do deliveries tomorrow.

My list seems so small but I'm hoping I reach a lot of people who will in turn pass the message along. Duane has run away with the challenge already and his friends have also jumped on board. It's pretty cool to know that I started something on the other side of the country. This is me sending a big Thank You to anyone who has decided to participate.

What goes on at the King's Head will inevitably appear on someone's blog

Joined Rob and friends at The King's Head on Friday night to celebrate Rob's alphabet birthday (why alphabet you ask? He turned 26!). Joanna came with me and she drove which meant I could actually drink. I don't know why but people get very determined to "get Jill drunk". Drunk Jill really isn't much different from fun and sober Jill. She's just a little bit louder and she bounces. On the way home she'll sing. Badly.

I'm too tired to assemble this into a narrative so I will just try to pull some fun quotes and pictures from my slightly fuzzy memory.

Jill and Chris doing a "model pose". It took several attempts and two head bonks to get this even close to right.

Arm wrestle!Jill believed that her pink wristband would not only get her into the pub but also give her super strength which would allow her to defeat The Iron Ring.
Jill soon learned that iron is kind of hard to move.

You must be at least 27 to get on this ride
--Jill stating her cut-off age after ruling out the possibilities of The Guy With the Good Hair. At this point she was having issues with counting even on her fingers.

Best Buds forever

Such a clown. Okay, you're cut off. No wait, you've only begun.

Happy Birthday Rob

It's Rob's birthday today! How exciting. Tonight a bunch of us are getting together with him at the King's Head. You need a pink wristband to get in (or pay $5 for a lifetime membership). Anywhere that takes a pink wristband as admittance is my kind of place!

In honour of Rob's big day I wanted to post for him his birthday horoscope. So I searched around for a good one, but I wasn't really satisfied with what came up. At that point I decided to write one myself MAD LIBS style! I wrote the template and then I got my lunch buddies to give me the words to fill in the blanks. I highlighted the blank words in red. Here is what we came up with:

The year ahead of you will be furry and upside down. Your month for money will be November when you will happen upon 13 dollars. Where? Look for a sunny cat and the money will be just around the corner. Romance will blossom around the 27th of a fall month. Look for a girl wearing an orange dress standing beside a zebra. Your career will develop quickly over the next 12 fortnights. Your boss appreciates your school and strong house skills.

If any of this comes true, make sure you tell me so I can start charging for this stuff. Maybe it will make more sense or sound more promising after a few pints. See you all there!

The morning after

I didn't want to go to work this morning and tell everyone about the nightmare on Brooklyn Street I had yesterday (Yeah, the little house was on Brooklyn, I was hoping I could title a blog, Moving to Brooklyn!). Some gave me the "it's not meant to be" speech that I nodded through, but everyone was supportive and of course disappointed for me. I sent pictures around. My favourite response came back from Michael who e-mailed me his take (my additions in italics):

Soundgarden is a bad omen--I wish I could remember what song it was, I don't
think it was Black Hole Sun. We've decided that Dance all Day by Wang
Chung is my good sign song (Michael refuses to acknowledge Everybody Have Fun Tonight, my birthday song).

Half basement looks like dungeon to store potatoes or moonshine

Non-working fireplace takes up entire wall that could be put to good use

Sure it comes with appliances - that will all need to be replaced within the next 6 months, just when you can't afford it

Where's the counter space?

Stairs are a hazy morning death trap

How's the yard? Snow may be hiding something!

Garage?--Inspector did say it was a potential death trap for my
"pretty truck".

Fence in good condition?--it was new.

If house is a fixer-upper, how fixy are you?

Positives:

Looks cute on the outside

Bay window

Modern shower

Double sink in kitchen

Has character

Overall verdict -
if house was a man, could be worth a fling for a few months but would you really want to marry it?

Well said, Micheal.

Joanna came over and said "that sucks". Kat and Diana offered to join me in a round of the Hokey Pokey if it would make me feel better (I tried to get a round going at a department meeting once). Laura came over and told me there is a house waiting for me somewhere beside a tall single man who likes music and has a golden retriever (Laura, you will be missed when you leave us for BC).

I know some really great people. I have no excuse to be sad.

Just the facts

Jill: I'm debating about blogging.

Vince: People need to know.

Jill: Yeah, I just don't know how to find the words.

This was my conversation with Vince tonight. When I can't find words, it's pretty bad.

The House dream is pretty much flushed right now. I don't really want to get into it except to say I'm pretty mad and disappointed. If you want to do me any favours, DO NOT say any variations of the following:

1. Don't worry Jill, you'll find something some day
   
2. It just wasn't meant to be
3. It's a big scary decision
4. Don't rush into things

I'm really not looking for advice or lectures on what is meant to be. I'm not really a subscriber to the "meant to be" theory as I like to challenge destiny. I'm also not dumb. I am very aware of what I am doing and the amount of debt I am signing up for and I know I can handle things. I'm a survivor and a fighter. I'm not really a pragmatic person, I believe in taking action and not waiting for things to happen and fall in my lap. I think I've done pretty well so far and I feel that my personal philosophies will continue to carry me to great success. Try to tell me that something is impossible or unlikely and I'll just try harder to prove you wrong. I may not always get the desired results, but you'd be surprised at how far I do get.

So if you want to say anything to me about The House That Was It and the search for The House That Will Be It, just say something like:

1. That sucks about the house, girl
2. I get why you're bummed
3. But don't give up your dream

Thanks.

Share a little heart

Does anyone know what Wednesday, February 14 is? If you guessed Valentine's Day, you're only half right. It's also Random Acts of Kindness day as part of RAK week, which kicks off on Monday, February 12.

To honour the week I intend to carry out several acts of kindness, random and otherwise. I will give one of these paper hearts to anyone I commit kindness for to help spread the word.

I also want to issue a challenge to all my readers to make a conscious effort to do something kind for a friend, relative or stranger. From giving up your seat on the bus to washing your mom's car--if you do something, I want to hear about it. It doesn't matter how small the gesture or to whom you direct your kindness, just as long as your heart is in the right place. I'll keep you posted on my own efforts. Naturally, I'm working on a media blitz...

Go ahead, out-kind me!

Little red balloon

This morning I thought I would be writing a very different blog post. I was going to tell you about finding The One. It was love at first sight on a frigid Saturday afternoon. It seemed too good to be true but slowly I let the excitement creep in. This was The One I wanted to be with, The One I wanted to lean against after a long day, The One that had everything I was looking for and that was cute and bright and cheery—like me. This was The House I wanted to buy.

My mom and dad came with me to look at it. My mom shared my excitement; my dad of course had doubts. Having him around to help me pick out Truck was easy; having him around for house shopping was not going so well. I had already let him talk me out of one place, I was determined I was not going to let him talk me out of the next one.

The house is an old 1 ½ storey with a ¾ basement. It has a bay window in the front room, which I love. I don’t know why, but I have been obsessed with this architectural feature since I was eight years old. Maybe it has something to do with watching Full House. The kitchen was all redone with new cupboards, counter-tops and a double sink. The interior had all been recently painted in soft yellows, creams, and blues. The ceilings and doorways were all framed in crown moldings.

There is a steep staircase to the master bedroom loft. They remind me of climbing the stairs to the playhouse my dad, grandpa, and uncle built for my sister and me at the cottage. The room is painted all white with a rusty brown wood floor. It has the east facing window I love so I can wake up to the morning sun. The potential downside of the room was all the low ceiling angles that could prove difficult with my high bed. A small en-suite painted light blue with white trim is to the left. There are cupboards and built in drawers everywhere.

I went back today with a measuring tape in hand. I needed to know if my bed would fit in the room given that the headboard at its highest point is 48” and the ceilings come in at about a 45 degree angle from the windows. My mom and my real estate agent were with me and we tried all sorts of different positions. It took some time, but eventually we found a way I could angle the bed so that it would fit. I was satisfied as this seemed to be the only hurdle keeping me from being able to put an offer in.

We took another look around the house to check for anything we may have missed. My agent asked if I cared to see the basement again. I shrugged and said, “sure”. There isn’t much to see down there. It’s a tiny cement space for the hot water heater and furnace. The walls only go ¾ of the way up and are surrounded by dirt. It’s not meant to be anything but utilitarian. My dad had said the day before that he was concerned that it was so cold down there. My mom said you couldn’t expect much on the coldest day of the year and if the pipes weren’t frozen on that day, what else could you worry about. Today when we took a second look though we found a puddle of water on the floor. We couldn’t figure out where it had come from. There didn’t appear to be anything leaking and obviously nothing would be melting at this time of the year. My agent frowned and the little imaginary red balloon that I had been floating around with started to deflate. I was glad my dad wasn’t there to see it or the house would have been written off for sure. I know I have to grow up and take a stand against my parents sometimes, but honestly, if something ever needs fixing or replacing I’m going to have to ask my dad for help. It would be in my best interest to have his blessing.

My agent told me she would call the realtor listing the house and inquire about the puddle. She told me to think long and hard if I wanted to make an offer on Monday and strongly suggested that if I did, I should add the condition of a home inspection.

I didn’t say much as we left the house and got into the car.

“Well, maybe it’s not meant to be,” my mom said. “Maybe that puddle is an omen.”

“Yeah, that I’m supposed to go live by the ocean,” I replied with the last bit of sense of humour I had left.

I’m tired of the cold, I’m tired of my dad being a black cloud, and I’m tired of always having to walk away. All I want is a little sunny corner of the world to call my own; all I want is a little red balloon.

The Light of My Life

I considered titling this post "How many blondes does it take to screw in a CFL light bulb?" but I have no sense of humour when it comes to dumb blonde jokes so I just couldn't do it (but the writer in me still thinks it's pretty good, so I had to throw the line in here somewhere).

Anyway, on Friday, Duane found a safer way to be a hero by issuing a challenge to his friends and blog readers to go out and purchase CFL light bulbs to replace their regular incandescent light bulbs with.

Here's an excerpt of his challenge post:

If you don’t know what a CFL light bulb is, then read on. CFL light bulbs are very efficient light sources (at least when compared to the typical incandescent light bulb).

Replacing a single incandescent bulb with a CFL will keep a half-ton of CO2 out of the atmosphere over the life of the bulb. If everyone in the U.S. used energy-efficient lighting, we could retire 90 average size power plants. Saving electricity reduces CO2 emissions, sulfur oxide and high-level nuclear waste.

No only that, but they are far more efficient than incandescent light bulbs, meaning that you’ll save money on your electric bill each month.

Okay, so first when I read the challenge I was like, "CFL light bulb? What kind of oddball marketing scheme has the Canadian Football League come up with now?" (Bite your tongue, no dumb blonde jokes allowed.) But then I researched further and learned that CFL is short for Compact Fluorescent Lamp, and a CFL bulb has nothing to do with footballs and everything to do with being a responsible global citizen.

A typical CFL bulb resembles a twisty soft serve ice cream cone. You can purchase them pretty much wherever you buy regular light bulbs. I got mine at London Drugs--$8.99 for two. Note that nowhere on the packaging of the bulbs I purchased did it refer to the term CFL bulb (perhaps there's some licensing issue with the aforementioned sports league) so I was kind of worried for a bit that I was going to get tricked into buying some imitation bulb that really wasn't going to make any positive difference whatsoever. The bulbs are supposed to last for seven years. Mine came with a warranty. I realized too when I got home that I already had a CFL bulb in my reading lamp, but it's not a cute twisty one. See, I knew what they were all along, it's just some shoddy marketing that hasn't put the proper language out there yet. I am more than happy to step in and help in that department.

Duane would like to hear from anyone who has taken him up on his challenge. He has added a fun photo element as well:

To make this a bit more “fun”, I’ve created a flickr group for photos: check it out here. As you replace your bulbs, take a few photos and post them to that group for inspiration. The more fun the photo, the better — show everyone you replacing a bulb, you buying a bulb, or anything else related to this activity.

Please visit Duane's blog or use mine to let us know you did your part. (Cue Captain Planet theme song here...oooh how I loved that show.)

Stay tuned for a challenge of my own that I will be issuing sometime this weekend. In the meantime, if you were a Care Bear, what would be on your tummy?

I shake my fist at you Blogger!

What gives? Vince can comment on my blog but I can't?! The comments thingy is broken for me! So there he goes making smart remarks about me not working and doing music player shuffle list games and I just have to sit here and take it? It's a freakin' Googler conspiracy. You geeks are supposed to use your powers for good not evil! I'm sending the Carebears after you.

A date with destiny

I love the TV show The O.C. and watch it religiously. Surely you can appreciate how upset I am that it has been cancelled with the last episode to air at the end of this month. The story lines have been lacking lately but it appeals to me on a more personal level. Tonight's episode dealt with the idea of destiny. Summer visited a fortune teller who foresaw, among other things, a different future than what she wanted. The fortune teller's predictions started to come true, which made Summer wonder if she really had a future with her boyfriend.

This reminded me of the tarot card reading I received last September and one I received a few years back. The first time I had my cards read I was in my 3rd year of school. I asked where I would end up working. I was not impressed when the reader told me I would work in the health field. That couldn't be right, I wasn't going to school to be a doctor, nurse or therapist. That summer though I ended up working in the office of a personal care home where I was of course surrounded by health professionals. A bit of a stretch maybe, but interesting.

For the reading in September I decided to be bold and ask for a distinguishing characteristic of the man I would marry. I had to pick seven cards from a shuffled pile. Six of them would explain factors from my past and the last one would answer my question. The reader was pretty bang on about some details and about my character. In the end, the answer to my question was, "he will have dark hair and dark eyes and he is coming quickly". How exciting, although I really wasn't expecting I would meet The One for at least a year or so.

A few weeks later I went on a date with a guy with dark hair and eyes. (Quickly indeed!) My fortune was supposedly coming true, but something did not feel right and my heart was not in it. I told Mr. Destiny I couldn't see him anymore. I felt bad that it couldn't work out, especially when there were so many signs that seemed to say it should have.

Last year, even before The One Who Would Not Be, I thought I had intuitively seen a piece of my destiny. I was seeing the signs everywhere, so much so I started to scare myself. The supposed signs came in the form of a song on the radio, a picture, a book, a name, even an actual piece of signage on a building. I wanted to believe that if I didn't lose hope, that if I was patient, things would work out because all the signs were there. Things didn't quite go that way but I eventually, reluctantly, accepted reality.

I was talking with Vince this week about some advice a friend had given him. Don't look for the answer, she told him. When you stop looking, the answer will find you.

I agree with this wisdom but I find there's a catch to it. It always happens that when I stop looking, something wonderful and surprising presents itself, and then Destiny catches me looking and wags her finger at me. For a while I would yell back at her, "but it seems so perfect! Don't you see? How can something that feels so right be so terribly wrong? And if this is wrong, what on earth will right feel like?"

I can think of three big moments in my life where I think Destiny stepped in and put me on the right track (although I refuse to give her all the credit). These are the moments that still have me going, "I can't believe I was so lucky". So far they have all been career related:

1. Getting into the Creative Communication program when I thought I had totally blown the interview.
2. Getting my job at The Agency, which was the best first job I could ever ask for.
3. Getting my job at The Company, which saved me from a dead end job at DF (The Place Where Dreams Go to Die).

Now I wait for my next unbelievable moment. I try to look away whenever I see something that looks perfect because the supposed signs always leave me disappointed. Nevertheless, I try not to be completely faithless. I like to believe that the author of my story has a very good sense of humour. Even though I scowl and pout sometimes when things don't work out the way I want them to, I tell myself there's just something even more fabulous coming my way. (But honestly, couldn't you at least let me write a chapter or two? I have some really great ideas!)

I heard my song on the radio last night. For now, it is the only sign to which I will hang on and pay attention. Every time I hear the soothing strum of the acoustic guitar, the wistful whistler, and Axle Rose singing all we need is just a little patience... I take a deep breath, smile and say okay, I can wait a little longer. I know in the end it will be worth it (and it will be a really great story).

Hair-raising story

I heard Kat and Tracy talking outside my cube at about 2:00 this afternoon. I wanted to jump in on the conversation so I pushed myself away from my desk. Kat immediately started to laugh.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you having a rough day again, Jill?"

"Sort of, why?" I responded before realizing what she was referring to. "Ohhh," I grabbed my hair and groaned. A little while ago Kat astutely noticed that it's evident when I am having an especially painful day because my hair wings up and out, usually more so on the left side. Here is a demonstration of how my hair-stress barometer works:

The day starts off with me and my intentionally messy fun hairdo

(It's actually looking flat here cuz I had to wear a toque today)

Then I come back from an enjoyable lunch with my friends and proceed to check what fascinating e-mails showed up while I was away.



The first e-mail reveals that the team of people I work with in London have created a stupendous mess for me to present to my client.

I sigh, exhaling dramatically which tousles my bangs around a bit.

A second e-mail reveals an even bigger mess, and the following one is no better. At this point I rest my elbows on my desk, put my head in my hands and have a short conversation with The Man Upstairs.

(Alternative position shown here which yields similar results)

The result is a visual representation of me having a "rough day".

(my best "please take me home and away from all of this" face. The left side isn't winging as dramatically as usual but hopefully you get the idea)

Yes, I wear my heart on my sleeve and my stress in my hair.