I've been up since 20 past six this morning. Because work phoned. Because I brought Betty home again.
I think it's naptime now.
Luckily, I was at the boy's place, which is just around the corner from work, as opposed to home which is 20 minutes from work. Still, I couldn't get back to sleep.
I have to go buy more chocolate for my cake. But then I'm napping. Mmm. Chocolate. Nap. Cake- and banana-bread making. Salmon for dinner. Cake for dessert.
2006-01-27
2006-01-26
American bagels have no character.
I realised this yesterday while I was eating my morning bagel. Since I’ve moved back to the states, I feel the need to slather my bagel with cream cheese—the more the better, to the point that the bagel becomes merely a carrier for the cream cheese. Any bagel-ness that might be there is completely lost under the taste of the cream cheese.
When I lived in Montréal, I almost never put cream cheese on my bagels. Usually just some butter or a touch of jam. But I was also perfectly happy just eating them unadorned, just the way they were created. But maybe that’s because they had flavour; they had character; they could stand on their own.
Just a thought.
Life in the Land of Port this fourth week of 2006 has been good. All four weeks of 2006 have been good. Except for that cold the second week—although that was chased away by a heavy dose of Maker’s Mark at the suggestion of my bartender. She’s good like that.
UPS is still holding the boy’s birthday gift hostage—I think we’ll get it tomorrow or Saturday, since I finally just told them to hold it at the distribution centre for me to come pick up. Of course, it’s all the way the hell out in South Portland (or So Po as it’s called locally), which means I need a car to get there. Damn poor public transit system. It’s also open only 12-6, which gives me precious little time to get there before work, even if I were able to get there on public transit. Not that I’ve really looked into getting there on the bus, but Portland doesn’t have anything like Montréal’s Tous Azimuts and, to compound the difficulty, there is the Portland ‘Metro’ bus service as well as the South Portland bus service, which are completely separate entities. You can get a Portland bus to South Portland and a South Portland bus to Portland. But it’s like the STM versus the South Shore bus (the STL [Société de Transport de Longueuil]? or is it STRSM [Société de Transport de la Rive Sud de Montréal]? I never had to know, so I’m not sure. I guess it must be some variation on the second one, since STL is the Laval bus service, I think. Enough of that tangent. I’m writing this offline so I can’t just look it up.)
In any event, he will either tomorrow or Saturday finally have his birthday gift. Damn UPS. Supposedly they made two delivery attempts—but didn’t leave me a notice either time. When I phoned to try to change the delivery to one that didn’t need a signature, they wouldn’t let me. Stupid UPS.
I, of course, have not been keeping up with my schedule that I set out for myself at the beginning of the year to use my mornings effectively (although I’ve been good this morning) but I’m working on it. I’m almost through the first book on my list (The Name of War: King Philip’s War and the Origins of American Identity by Jill Lepore)—hopefully I’ll be done with it by the end of the weekend—and I’m not sure what I’ll tackle next.
Work is going well. The other shift lead has been named manager, which I think is a quite good thing. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that it’s probably better for me not to be manager right now. Even if I do reapply for grad school in the fall, I won’t be leaving for another year after that. All the same, I probably should stay focused on what I need to do for myself right now rather than getting even more wrapped up in this job. In other words, I’m already overly committed to this job—to the point where I have a tendency to jump in and help out when they need the help and it’s my day off and I just happen to have stopped in for a cup of coffee. This isn’t a bad thing, of course, but I need to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life since I know that this isn’t it.
When I lived in Montréal, I almost never put cream cheese on my bagels. Usually just some butter or a touch of jam. But I was also perfectly happy just eating them unadorned, just the way they were created. But maybe that’s because they had flavour; they had character; they could stand on their own.
Just a thought.
Life in the Land of Port this fourth week of 2006 has been good. All four weeks of 2006 have been good. Except for that cold the second week—although that was chased away by a heavy dose of Maker’s Mark at the suggestion of my bartender. She’s good like that.
UPS is still holding the boy’s birthday gift hostage—I think we’ll get it tomorrow or Saturday, since I finally just told them to hold it at the distribution centre for me to come pick up. Of course, it’s all the way the hell out in South Portland (or So Po as it’s called locally), which means I need a car to get there. Damn poor public transit system. It’s also open only 12-6, which gives me precious little time to get there before work, even if I were able to get there on public transit. Not that I’ve really looked into getting there on the bus, but Portland doesn’t have anything like Montréal’s Tous Azimuts and, to compound the difficulty, there is the Portland ‘Metro’ bus service as well as the South Portland bus service, which are completely separate entities. You can get a Portland bus to South Portland and a South Portland bus to Portland. But it’s like the STM versus the South Shore bus (the STL [Société de Transport de Longueuil]? or is it STRSM [Société de Transport de la Rive Sud de Montréal]? I never had to know, so I’m not sure. I guess it must be some variation on the second one, since STL is the Laval bus service, I think. Enough of that tangent. I’m writing this offline so I can’t just look it up.)
In any event, he will either tomorrow or Saturday finally have his birthday gift. Damn UPS. Supposedly they made two delivery attempts—but didn’t leave me a notice either time. When I phoned to try to change the delivery to one that didn’t need a signature, they wouldn’t let me. Stupid UPS.
I, of course, have not been keeping up with my schedule that I set out for myself at the beginning of the year to use my mornings effectively (although I’ve been good this morning) but I’m working on it. I’m almost through the first book on my list (The Name of War: King Philip’s War and the Origins of American Identity by Jill Lepore)—hopefully I’ll be done with it by the end of the weekend—and I’m not sure what I’ll tackle next.
Work is going well. The other shift lead has been named manager, which I think is a quite good thing. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that it’s probably better for me not to be manager right now. Even if I do reapply for grad school in the fall, I won’t be leaving for another year after that. All the same, I probably should stay focused on what I need to do for myself right now rather than getting even more wrapped up in this job. In other words, I’m already overly committed to this job—to the point where I have a tendency to jump in and help out when they need the help and it’s my day off and I just happen to have stopped in for a cup of coffee. This isn’t a bad thing, of course, but I need to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life since I know that this isn’t it.
2006-01-25
Montréal, c'est ta cuisine qui me manque.
Basha.
Patati-Patata.
La Chilenita.
La Belle's poutine.
Schwartz's.
Toi, Moi et Café's snacks.
Lattes from Café Vasco de Gama (...only sometimes--I make enough of them every day myself, but I had a conversation tonight with a customer about Illy coffee).
Dim sum at that place whose name I can never remember.
99¢ pizza.
Euro-Deli.
Au Pied de Cochon (mmm...I could go for duck-in-a-can again).
Berlin.
That ice cream place--Scoops? Licks? I forget it's name. The one on St-Laurent and, um...near the Pizza Madonna.
La Merveille du Vietnam's spring roll subs (or whatever they're called now...Yo-Ya or something?).
Alto's.
And whatever else I've forgotten....feel free to chime in on things you miss or that I may have forgotten.
Update: How could I forget...?
Pita Pit.
Bagels, etc.
Place Milton.
FAIRMOUNT BAGELS!
Patati-Patata.
La Chilenita.
La Belle's poutine.
Schwartz's.
Toi, Moi et Café's snacks.
Lattes from Café Vasco de Gama (...only sometimes--I make enough of them every day myself, but I had a conversation tonight with a customer about Illy coffee).
Dim sum at that place whose name I can never remember.
99¢ pizza.
Euro-Deli.
Au Pied de Cochon (mmm...I could go for duck-in-a-can again).
Berlin.
That ice cream place--Scoops? Licks? I forget it's name. The one on St-Laurent and, um...near the Pizza Madonna.
La Merveille du Vietnam's spring roll subs (or whatever they're called now...Yo-Ya or something?).
Alto's.
And whatever else I've forgotten....feel free to chime in on things you miss or that I may have forgotten.
Update: How could I forget...?
Pita Pit.
Bagels, etc.
Place Milton.
FAIRMOUNT BAGELS!
Bush Warming Up to Canada's Next PM - Yahoo! News
'We are glad to see that Canadians have values-voters too,' said Bob Morrison of the Family Research Council, a Washington-based group opposed to abortion and gay marriage. 'We can be optimistic about the end of the social engineering as driven by the Martin government.'
Why can't the freaks just go away?
(Stole the link from Cat's blog.)
2006-01-19
I broke it...
The espresso grinder, that is. I was cleaning it last night and managed to get some brush bristles stuck in the grinder--despite the fact that I had already turned it off (the blades were still spinning, granted).
And I brought Betty Boop home yet again last night. She's totally the store bicycle.
I'm sure that makes no sense.
We have one of our sets of internal keys on a Betty Boop keychain and she often disappears over night because someone forgets that she's in her pocket. It's a running joke about who Betty has gone home with.
She's been home with me two nights in a row now. Rrrrow!
It's the boy's birthday this weekend. Saturday. 2-9. I'm getting him this. I think he'll like it. Because he's like that. And so am I. Which is why I like him.
And I brought Betty Boop home yet again last night. She's totally the store bicycle.
I'm sure that makes no sense.
We have one of our sets of internal keys on a Betty Boop keychain and she often disappears over night because someone forgets that she's in her pocket. It's a running joke about who Betty has gone home with.
She's been home with me two nights in a row now. Rrrrow!
It's the boy's birthday this weekend. Saturday. 2-9. I'm getting him this. I think he'll like it. Because he's like that. And so am I. Which is why I like him.
2006-01-12
Cue the heavenly chorus...
La Meglio Gioventù (The Best of Youth) is FINALLY being released on DVD in North America! At the beginning of next month!
Blech
I've been getting sick all week. To my credit, I've been sucking down echinacea tea since Monday. This morning, I woke up feeling more or less okay except for the fact that my tonsils are rather swollen. I hate being sick like this. Feel fine, swollen tonsils. My glands aren't swollen, at least, which means that it's very likely not strep throat, something my body just seems to love to get at least once or twice a year.
Just thought I'd share.
Also, has anyone else noticed that Alito doesn't actually answer most of the questions that he has been asked? And that the Republican members of the Committee tend to ask him things like, Do you think that TV cameras ought to be allowed in the Supreme Court? While the Democrats are asking him things like, Why did you specifically list CAP on your job application in 1985 if you now claim that you have no strong recollection of the organisation at all?
I'm not surprised, exactly, but still.
Also, has anyone else seen the new Liberal Party campaign ads? http://www.liberal.ca/multimedia_e.aspx
Just thought I'd share.
Also, has anyone else noticed that Alito doesn't actually answer most of the questions that he has been asked? And that the Republican members of the Committee tend to ask him things like, Do you think that TV cameras ought to be allowed in the Supreme Court? While the Democrats are asking him things like, Why did you specifically list CAP on your job application in 1985 if you now claim that you have no strong recollection of the organisation at all?
I'm not surprised, exactly, but still.
Also, has anyone else seen the new Liberal Party campaign ads? http://www.liberal.ca/multimedia_e.aspx
2006-01-07
Re-thinking thoughts on the new year
I was voted 'Most Likely to Succeed' by my high school class, along with the girl who was our valedictorian. I've always felt very strange about that. What kind of success are we talking about here? Fabulous wealth and celebrity? Okay. None of us would mind that. But what about more simple success? What about just being happy where we are in the world? The past years in Montréal have been the first time that I've been able to say that I was truly happy with where I was in the world.
My one personal wish for 2005 is that I'll be able to say the same a year from now, wherever I might be as 2006 begins.
I wrote that a little over a year ago.
While I am not thrilled with where I am in the world right now, I am certainly satisfied if not generally happy. Things could be rather worse. Portland isn't so bad. I have a decent job that I enjoy. I'm head-over-heels in lurv (not love just yet, mind you) with a wonderful man. At the end of the day, I really can't complain about what I've done and what I will do the next day.
So, I think that I was able to fulfil my wish for 2005. We'll see if 2006 can do the same.
Minor changes
Still no new template. Maybe I'll just change the colour?
Moved the links down. Cut a few out. Updated one.
Nothing too exciting.
Moved the links down. Cut a few out. Updated one.
Nothing too exciting.
2006-01-06
Garrison Keillor...
...is a master storyteller and I will be very, very sad when he's no longer around.
(Listening to the News from Lake Wobegon, of course, where all the women are strong, the men are good looking and the children are above average.)
(Listening to the News from Lake Wobegon, of course, where all the women are strong, the men are good looking and the children are above average.)
2006-01-04
Progress
I'm down to 14 unread messages in my Inbox. This is huge progress for me. Six of them require big long responses to be written. Most of those are from months ago. I'm a horrible person. If it's any indication, I still haven't updated Monkey's new address from when she moved, which was rather a long time ago....
2006-01-02
Hello, 2006
2005 was a big year. I finally graduated university. I reluctantly left Montréal, a city that had very much become home over my five years there. I moved to Maine, of all places, a state with a population a mere third of that of the city which I left in June. Portland itself has only slightly over a sixth the population of Montréal.
My first six months here have not been all that bad. Reconnecting with my roommate, an old friend from high school, has been wonderful. Getting thrown straight into her mix of friends has been great and meeting scores of new people on my own has been fun. True, I certainly miss the gang in Montréal, but a lot of people had already moved on and nothing gets to stay in stasis forever. Besides, thanks to blogs and email and text messages and such, we can all stay in touch. It's not the same as being able to ring someone up to go for a pint at Reservoir, but it has to count for something.
The first half of the year was a whirlwind of finishing my last semester, dealing with stupid family drama surrounding my great-grandfather's death, and then leaving Montréal. I feel no shame in admitting that I cried rather a lot when I left. That line from the Les Respectables song still rings in my ears from time to time, when I doubt having left at all: 'Peut-être qu'il faut s'enfuir loin de son passé, toujours partir pour mieux se retrouver.'
I miss seeing and hearing and using French on a regular basis. I actually find myself slipping sometimes and throwing in French phrases here and there. The difference here, of course, is that no one knows what the hell I'm saying.
On the whole, though, Portland has been good to me. True, it is painfully small at times. I very much miss things like Cinéma du Parc and Ex-centris. And Vieille Europe. And Reservoir. And good public transit. And loonies and twonies. And poutine. And... so many things.
Still, I knew Portland was no Montréal. I knew it would even be close or, indeed, anything like a smaller version of it. In fact, I knew it would pretty much be entirely different. It's true, everyone here wears stuff from L. L. Bean. And the general fashion sense is rather different than that of Montréal. It's not bad, per se, just different. There are always those people that you wish you could just pull into a clothing store--almost any clothing store--and redress them. But there were those people in Montréal, too, just far fewer of them.
If I was less than satisfied with my first job here (washing dishes), it was only ever meant to be temporary, and despite the frustrations that I've experienced with the coffee shop where I am now, it has on the whole been a very rewarding and challenging experience. And, with things moving in the direction that they are now, I'll be getting some added responsibilities and thus added challenge that will keep things interesting. It's not nuclear physics to be sure, but it's about where I'd like to be right now with work. It pays the bills, it gives me some money to enjoy myself (some more couldn't hurt) and I generally feel like I've done good at the end of the day.
Then, of course, there are the boys. To be fair, Portland has not skimped on me in that department either. Even if the paramedic decided to have a mid-life crisis, we've become good friends now and that's probably the important thing in the end. Things with the current boy, the minister, continue to go well. We've not quite made it to two months but things show no sign of getting any worse--only better. So far as I can tell, he is as smitten with me as I am with him, which certainly cannot be a bad thing. I had a bizarre dream about getting engaged to him last night--bizarre because it involved seeking approval from Queen Anne, among other things. Also bizarre for the very fact that it involved an engagement. I blame it on the fact that engagements seem to be popping up all over my life recently. Six weeks into this--and it's hard to believe that it's only been that long--I'm certainly not about to suggest we spend the rest of our lives together. You all know that I'm far to practical to go down that particular crazy path so soon. Still, it's probably a sign of just how smitten I am that although I acknowledge that it was a bizarre dream, it still gave me a vague warm fuzzy feeling all the same.
As for the New Year, my only real resolution is the same one that I make every year and every year fail to keep: floss more. I'd also like, as I think I mentioned previously, to read the paper the day that it's published as well as to really get cracking on my planned pre-grad school reading list. I have 9 months, give or take, to gestate this grad school idea, assuming that I stick with my original plan. The past six months have been spent in a sort of intellectual limbo, which is fine, but I think that I really need to get my brain going again. Besides, limbo is on its way out, according to the Catholic Church, and I certainly wouldn't want to find myself stuck somewhere that no longer exists.
And so, as I scan the books on my shelf, I realise that I have a number of things that I really ought to finish reading. Many of which have been unfinished for over a year now. Still, it was always difficult to keep up when I was in school full time--these are all, in fact, books that I started reading for classes and just never finished. David Hancock's Citizens of the World: London Merchants and the Integration of the British Atlantic Community, 1735-1785; Joyce Chaplin's Subject Matter: Technology, the Body and Science on the Anglo-American Frontier, 1500-1676; Jill Lepore's The Name of War: King Philip's War and the Origins of American Identity; Carolyn Merchant's Ecological Revolutions: Nature, Gender and Science in New England; Tulio Halperin Donghi's The Contemporary History of Latin America; Edward Said's Orientalism; J.R. McNeil's Something New Under the Sun; Michel Foucault's Discipline and Punish; Jane Jacobs's The Death and Life of Great American Cities.
And these are just the titles that I've already begun reading. Never mind the ones on my shelf that I haven't even cracked open yet.
I have my work cut out for me. Starting with this month, I'm closing five days a week at work. Which means that I have all morning to get stuff done. I really must do my best not to fritter away my mornings but to actually use them to their fullest. Up by 8 I think is reasonable. No more than an hour for emailing and blog reading. Then go to get the paper by 9. Back for coffee and breakfast. The paper, realistically, should take an hour or two. Which brings me to 11. Shower, think about making a lunch large enough to have leftovers to bring to work. And I don't have to leave for work until 1.30, which means that I should be able to get in an hour of academic-type reading before heading off to work. That all seems very reasonable to me. Let's see if I can actually stick to it.
My first six months here have not been all that bad. Reconnecting with my roommate, an old friend from high school, has been wonderful. Getting thrown straight into her mix of friends has been great and meeting scores of new people on my own has been fun. True, I certainly miss the gang in Montréal, but a lot of people had already moved on and nothing gets to stay in stasis forever. Besides, thanks to blogs and email and text messages and such, we can all stay in touch. It's not the same as being able to ring someone up to go for a pint at Reservoir, but it has to count for something.
The first half of the year was a whirlwind of finishing my last semester, dealing with stupid family drama surrounding my great-grandfather's death, and then leaving Montréal. I feel no shame in admitting that I cried rather a lot when I left. That line from the Les Respectables song still rings in my ears from time to time, when I doubt having left at all: 'Peut-être qu'il faut s'enfuir loin de son passé, toujours partir pour mieux se retrouver.'
I miss seeing and hearing and using French on a regular basis. I actually find myself slipping sometimes and throwing in French phrases here and there. The difference here, of course, is that no one knows what the hell I'm saying.
On the whole, though, Portland has been good to me. True, it is painfully small at times. I very much miss things like Cinéma du Parc and Ex-centris. And Vieille Europe. And Reservoir. And good public transit. And loonies and twonies. And poutine. And... so many things.
Still, I knew Portland was no Montréal. I knew it would even be close or, indeed, anything like a smaller version of it. In fact, I knew it would pretty much be entirely different. It's true, everyone here wears stuff from L. L. Bean. And the general fashion sense is rather different than that of Montréal. It's not bad, per se, just different. There are always those people that you wish you could just pull into a clothing store--almost any clothing store--and redress them. But there were those people in Montréal, too, just far fewer of them.
If I was less than satisfied with my first job here (washing dishes), it was only ever meant to be temporary, and despite the frustrations that I've experienced with the coffee shop where I am now, it has on the whole been a very rewarding and challenging experience. And, with things moving in the direction that they are now, I'll be getting some added responsibilities and thus added challenge that will keep things interesting. It's not nuclear physics to be sure, but it's about where I'd like to be right now with work. It pays the bills, it gives me some money to enjoy myself (some more couldn't hurt) and I generally feel like I've done good at the end of the day.
Then, of course, there are the boys. To be fair, Portland has not skimped on me in that department either. Even if the paramedic decided to have a mid-life crisis, we've become good friends now and that's probably the important thing in the end. Things with the current boy, the minister, continue to go well. We've not quite made it to two months but things show no sign of getting any worse--only better. So far as I can tell, he is as smitten with me as I am with him, which certainly cannot be a bad thing. I had a bizarre dream about getting engaged to him last night--bizarre because it involved seeking approval from Queen Anne, among other things. Also bizarre for the very fact that it involved an engagement. I blame it on the fact that engagements seem to be popping up all over my life recently. Six weeks into this--and it's hard to believe that it's only been that long--I'm certainly not about to suggest we spend the rest of our lives together. You all know that I'm far to practical to go down that particular crazy path so soon. Still, it's probably a sign of just how smitten I am that although I acknowledge that it was a bizarre dream, it still gave me a vague warm fuzzy feeling all the same.
As for the New Year, my only real resolution is the same one that I make every year and every year fail to keep: floss more. I'd also like, as I think I mentioned previously, to read the paper the day that it's published as well as to really get cracking on my planned pre-grad school reading list. I have 9 months, give or take, to gestate this grad school idea, assuming that I stick with my original plan. The past six months have been spent in a sort of intellectual limbo, which is fine, but I think that I really need to get my brain going again. Besides, limbo is on its way out, according to the Catholic Church, and I certainly wouldn't want to find myself stuck somewhere that no longer exists.
And so, as I scan the books on my shelf, I realise that I have a number of things that I really ought to finish reading. Many of which have been unfinished for over a year now. Still, it was always difficult to keep up when I was in school full time--these are all, in fact, books that I started reading for classes and just never finished. David Hancock's Citizens of the World: London Merchants and the Integration of the British Atlantic Community, 1735-1785; Joyce Chaplin's Subject Matter: Technology, the Body and Science on the Anglo-American Frontier, 1500-1676; Jill Lepore's The Name of War: King Philip's War and the Origins of American Identity; Carolyn Merchant's Ecological Revolutions: Nature, Gender and Science in New England; Tulio Halperin Donghi's The Contemporary History of Latin America; Edward Said's Orientalism; J.R. McNeil's Something New Under the Sun; Michel Foucault's Discipline and Punish; Jane Jacobs's The Death and Life of Great American Cities.
And these are just the titles that I've already begun reading. Never mind the ones on my shelf that I haven't even cracked open yet.
I have my work cut out for me. Starting with this month, I'm closing five days a week at work. Which means that I have all morning to get stuff done. I really must do my best not to fritter away my mornings but to actually use them to their fullest. Up by 8 I think is reasonable. No more than an hour for emailing and blog reading. Then go to get the paper by 9. Back for coffee and breakfast. The paper, realistically, should take an hour or two. Which brings me to 11. Shower, think about making a lunch large enough to have leftovers to bring to work. And I don't have to leave for work until 1.30, which means that I should be able to get in an hour of academic-type reading before heading off to work. That all seems very reasonable to me. Let's see if I can actually stick to it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
