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Welcome
This is our corner of the Internet. We're happy here. We're definitely "we" -- this blog is a group project. We all post as "My Own". This is where we write the things we can't say on our own blogs for one reason or another. We hope you like it here as much as we do. We hope you'll stick around.
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I've been waiting an hour and a half for my supervisor to check over this document. We agreed last week -- after several quality-control problems -- that she would be the one to do this from now on. I was game for it, I want to be better. But my shift ends in 12 minutes and I still don't have her name on it. And she refuses to let anyone else do it. I officially post more to the secret blog than I do my own.
I absolutely hate them. I can't say this on my own site because at any particular time, I have at least one friend who is planning her wedding. (It's always "her" wedding.) My dislike for weddings has absolutely nothing to do with any individual and much more to do with my sense that weddings are self-indulgent parties for people who are rather blatant about wanting to be the center of attention. If I told you that I was planning a party and that you had to wear a certain color, and pay attention to ME all night long, and not do anything that would upstage me, you would think I was crazy. But if I invite you to my wedding, you will think nothing of the same insane requests. I love my friends who have gotten married. I can't blame them for getting swept into the craziness that comes with that diamond ring. But just once, I'd like to get an invitation to a barbecue reception. Wear your jeans and bring your swimming trunks.
Our territorial government is a joke. A total joke.
From the cabinet, who have been mired in scandals almost since day one, to the regular MLAs, who are so out of touch with their constituents they base their priorities on our rag of a newspaper, which is so poorly regarded that its endorsements are the kiss of death to any public initiative, they are all a joke.
I can't even start to rank them. Ranking them would mean that someone would have to be at the top, and this bunch is jockeying for the lower rungs and building the ladder even deeper into the ground. Heck, they would probably blow up the ladder if they had a chance. They would self-righteously declare that the ladder wasn't built with the right sort of consultation and so the only proper approach would be to dismantle the whole thing and start over in a culturally appropriate manner.
The only thing we regular guys can do is wait for the term to be over and hope that a smarter group takes their place. And keep an eye on them to make sure they don't make any decisions that can't be undone after the election. We've learned that lesson the hard way.
I post to my personal blog pretty much every day. Some day's posts are better than others, and I admit that some days I just "call it in" and embed a video or post photos. I have to admit that in the last few months, I have been "calling it in" far more frequently than I ever have. Providing thoughtful, well-researched blog entries on a daily basis is work, and lately, I just haven't had the energy to do what's necessary to put out a quality product as often as I have in the past. I do have a full-time job, and it requires attention. But I think the other part of it is just the natural waxing and waning that's inherent in any endeavor or relationship. Sometimes, my writing is on fire, and I feel proud and energized by what I post. Other times, it feels like a chore. I'm just in a natural slump right now. So why do I feel guilty that I'm not entertaining my readers in the fashion to which they've become accustomed?
Well maybe he's not actually my boss, maybe he's just my superior. Still, it's baaaaad news. But I can't help it. Take off maybe about 10-15 years and he's my ideal guy. He's smart, witty, equally a hockey fan and does yoga with the woman at lunch. Loves his job and cares about it, and is good at it. Is probably the snarkiest person ever -- that scares some people, but I'm that way too so it just makes me laugh. We get along swimmingly. Though I'm new at my job, he turns to me for input on a lot of things that he doesn't go to other coworkers for. He gets my sense of humour, and that's so rare these days. I'm not so hung up on the man that I get all tingly when he's nearby (I mean, come on, we sit 5 feet from one another) and while most of the time he makes my day, I don't want to go slit my wrists when he's not at work. And really, the man's got two kids and a wife who's survived cancer. So it's not like its ever going to happen. But I can't help but hope maybe he's got a younger brother?
So please stop asking me. Would you be okay if your dad dropped dead unexpectedly? If you were out on a stunningly sunny Saturday afternoon, doing your grocery shopping, to come home to that really, really, really awful phone call... How do you thinkI am handling it? How the hell do you think my mum is handling it? Not bloody well, that's how. And while I'm on the subject, stop asking me how it happened. Do you want all the gory details, or is it that you would like to see me break down in tears so you can cluck and shake your head and say "You poor thing. It'll get better in time. Just remember the good times and say your prayers." I don't want to remember the good times, nor do I want to sit silently and pray for my dearly departed dad's immortal soul. What I want is to have my dad back... to have not been away the weekend before, so I could have called home to talk to (ie - argue with) him again. What I want is my dad to meet my children one day when I have them... and my mum not to be alone and so be hurting so friggin much. I'm really angry and fairly sad. I'm tired of being philosophical. I am tired of being gracious... I'm sick to death (no pun intended) of saying "Yes well, his quality of life had been deteriorating, so it was for the best I suppose... and he didn't suffer in the end." I'm sick of it. So no. I am not okay, so please, please, please leave me the hell alone. And as I write... in another window, another well meaning friend has asked how I am... and of course, I said "Fine thanks, how are you?" Because, at the end of the day, I know all the words, sympathy etc is borne out of love and well wishes. But that still doesn't mean I'm okay... so if you ask and I say I'm okay... I'm lying to you.
You know the current leader of the NWT? I don't want to say his name cuz I don't want this post showing up as a search result for him. The initials are FR. He's from a northern community. Anyway, I googled his name once to see what history I could find. Did you know he was a car mechanic before being the leader? A f'en car mechanic runs the show in the NT. What a joke! Ok, maybe it's not funny. Maybe it's just embarassing. I think it will only get worse. MM from HayR is next in line.
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Drunks
Smells bad everywhere Yell Yell Yell Bottles of beer Bad feeling Sad Sad Sad -7 yr old
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Do you know why I'm a fool? When the Canadian government announced it was setting up a Joint Review Panel to evaluate the "potential impacts" of the proposed Mackenzie Valley Pipeline, I was GLAD. Yes, GLAD. Maybe I'm more of an idiot than a fool. That was 2004. I saw the pipeline, a huge infrastructure project with environmental, social, cultural, economic, and energy implications, as something that should be taken seriously. I thought its review should be coordinated by a single body to reduce the duplication that could easily result from having several agencies do the review. The budget was about $6 million. Seven panelists would do the review with the help of staff. They were to deliver a final report within a year. This, I thought, was our opportunity to show that northerners could do it. We could take on a serious project and deliver on time and on budget. The result would be truly northern and reflect the priorities of our own people. I was such a fool. Hearings started in 2006 and went on for two years. The panel wanted everyone to have a say. EVERYONE. If you wanted to intervene, you could do that. If you wanted to appear before them, you just had to show up at one of the many, many community meetings the panel held all over the NWT. It didn't matter if you had nothing to say. It didn't matter if you were essentially duplicating someone else's presentation. You've got thousands of pages of documents? Bring them on in! The panelists questioned the people who appeared before them. They wanted to make sure all of the presenters were serious. They asked questions like "Where will the workers buy chips?" and "Suppose this project goes through. And suppose that there's another project after this one. And then, hypothetically, something bad could happen with the second project. And on that day, you might be out of town. How would your agency respond to the crisis?" I'm telling you, it was a gong show. Then we found out they were WAY over budget. Not just your standard northern "over budget", either. The last I heard, they had run up over $18 million in bills. We knew they were way past their deadline, but we didn't know just how little they cared about meeting any of the original timelines. They told us they'd publish their report in 2009. Then they adjusted this to December 31, 2009. They ended up releasing it on December 30, 2009. I am sure this is the JRP's idea of "getting the report out early". In the meantime, the estimated cost of the Mackenzie Gas Project soared to $16 billion from its original $4 billion.
For some odd reason, I've developed a hate for fat people. I don't know where it comes from. When I see an obese person, I am literally disgusted. It has gotten to the point where I have to stop myself from saying something to the person. Not all fat people bother me. It's only the ones that are so fat that they waddle around or have to work extremely hard to walk up a flight of stairs. It's the people that are so fat that the only pants they wear are those leggings (for women) and sweat pants (for guys). I know it's wrong to hate. Should I be ashamed?
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I'm going to love this blog. I have my own blog but I can't say what I really want to. I wish sometimes I could be a kid again. Being a grown up is really hard. I remember as a kid always wanting to be a grown up, to live on my own and have my own car. Life seemed so easy as a kid. I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and kick young me's ass. Between working full time, being a parent and spouse and keep up with household chores, there is no time for ME. Of course, people always say "you have to make time for yourself". I truly believe those people do not have children. If I am making time for ME, that means I'm taking it from someone or something else. I don't know how to relax anymore. I feel like I'm being pulled in all different directions, and god forbid if I complain or get sick. Being a grown up really sucks sometimes.
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I'm putting myself in a time out. I normally reserve time out for my kids, but i'm actually feeling
like a child myself right now. I want to scream, I want to throw
myself to the floor and kick my legs, throw my arms, and do what
every other child does to seemly get out all of their frustration.
My kids are driving me insane, just listening to my husband talk
drives me up the wall, and I currently have the patience of a three
year old. The reason for my regression to the 'terrible twos'
attitude? I don't even know. I'm frustrated with the state that my
life is in right, and frustrated that I don't seem to have any
control whatsoever over my immediate future. Someone else right now
is getting to decide the path that my life is going to take over the
next couple of years, and they seem to be taking their sweet-assed
time telling me their decision. Maybe that's why I feel so much like
a child....in essence, i'm getting treated like one. I'm an educated women, I make good decisions, and have done well with
my life....yes, it has taken a different turn than I thought it
would, but overall I think I have made good choices. So I hate the
feeling of being out of control, and someone who doesn't know me from
a hole in the wall has it all. So, i'm going to stomp around, i'm going to cry, i'm going to lay on
the floor in the middle of the room and refuse to pick up my
toys....well, that is, until the kids wake up from their nap and I
have to put my 'adult' face back on.
I take responsibility for the majority of house-related tasks in my household. Errands, vet visits, service people - I take care of 95% of these tasks. If there's an emergency, I'm the one who rearranges my schedule or takes time off to manage it. The reasons for this have everything to do with the circumstances of my employment - I work from home full-time, and my husband works in an office full-time. Because I don't have a commute and do self-directed work, I have the flexibility to be able to manage these tasks effectively, and I do. I don't mind handling these tasks. It just makes sense for me to do so, and in a partnership, there are going to be certain aspects of household management that fall more heavily on one person than the other. But sometimes, just sometimes, I would like my husband to acknowledge the fact that it is always me who takes responsibility for these tasks. It's stressful for me to take care these things while still performing the work for which I'm paid, and I would occasionally like him to acknowledge that my work on our behalf is not some kind of entitlement he enjoys as a result of my profession, but is in fact something I do because I choose to. It wouldn't kill him to periodically say THANK YOU. Because nobody enjoys feeling like they're being taken for granted.
I'm terrified of my job. For a few reasons. I'm mostly terrified because I don't feel like I'm good enough at it. I feel like I'm in over my head and that I won't be able to meet the expectations of my company. I can't tell if this is just my self-consciousness talking, or if it's actually true. I'm also terrified because I always strive to love my job. To wake up every morning and want to go to work. Sometimes, I don't feel like that here. Probably partially due to reason one. I worry that I picked the wrong field. Not always, but sometimes. I'm also terrified that I don't look the part for the job I have. I'm terrified I dress wrong, or act wrong, or will say something irreparable. I'm terrified that people won't take me seriously. Now, I know someone will comment on this post, so I want to end by saying that I'm not depressed or unhappy or aching to quit my job. I didn't write this for those reasons. I just wanted to get those fears out. I'm sure they are normal fears that everyone has, I just don't normally talk about them.
My ex had a baby last weekend. A year ago we were together. Now he looks serenely at a little pink scrunchy-faced rugrat. I wish I didn't know. Not really my fault, to be fair. His mom added me to Facebook back in the day. Only realized after the fact I could 'hide' her updates on my home page. I look back now and know we didn't work. He didn't work. But at the time, he was my everything. I genuinely thought we were in it for the long haul. I'm a little bit ashamed of how naive and hopeless I was.
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