Feb
7
2010
Last night I broke into a house to rescue a cat.
OK, it wasn’t that dramatic.
The landlord is away and his daughter was supposed to come over and take care of the cat. But she got locked out. She and I (both slightly tipsy and with no break-in skillz whatsoever) jimmied and poked and tried to pick the door, to no avail. The cat was meowing piteously at us. We were getting frustrated. We were going to have to do something drastic, up there on the third floor fire escape at midnight.
So I wrapped my jacket around my fist and punched in the glass pane closest to the knob. You always read about that in books. Top tip: It works! Thank you, reading, for giving me new skills!
I vacuumed up the glass while Shaena got the cat some food. Then we giggled for a while, because, really, neither of us expected to become criminals on a Saturday night!
Feb
6
2010
Yesterday I was reamed out for my inability to bend space and time.
Here’s what Tanya wanted: The Volkswagen Golf from 20th and Commercial cleaned inside and out, and delivered to the alley under the Co-op at Granville and Pender at 8AM.
Here’s what happened: At 8:26 AM I get a call from one of the office staff, asking if I could go get the car, wash it, and bring it to 555 West Cordova. No time limit specified, or that I’m already (to Tanya’s mind) 26 minutes late.
At 10:06, the office staff person calls me again. I explain that I just drove by 555 Cordova and it was a construction zone, not a parking lot yet. I’d get the car there by noon. She says ok, and then says, I can put the car ‘in the alley’. There’s an alley behind 555 Cordova? Maybe she means alongside the train yard?
At 12:18 PM, I get an hysterical phone call from Tanya, who rants on for 5 minutes about how I’m late and was supposed to be in the alley under the Co-op at 8AM, and I was supposed to call her cell and… Well. A lot of improbable things. I explain the info I have received (including not having her phone number, a timeline, or the correct place to put the car) and that I will be on it ASAP. I’m in the car. She keeps talking. I explain that I’m not allowed to talk and drive, and can get there faster the sooner I hang up.
I hang up and book to Tremblay, and then downtown, sliding into the alley and punching Tanya’s number. She looks mad when she gets to the alley, but seems mollified that I’ve dusted and polished and vacuumed and washed.
Then I get a call from my boss, full of profuse apology.
“It’s ok,” I said. “We can’t bend space and time. Much.”
“We also can’t act on instructions we haven’t received,” he answered. Turns out HE didn’t get the email asking for the car til 9AM.
Sometimes, a situation just isn’t going to go right, no matter what.
Feb
3
2010
And it may well cost me my job.
The boss sent out an email about the new website, asking for teacher pictures and introductions. Having a look around the site, I noticed several glaring grammar errors and some careless typos. Well, if you’re trying to convince the world that your reading system produces the best readers in the world, why the hell would you have a website with so many English language mistakes?
I thought a lot about it. I’m coming up against cultural stuff like nobody’s business here. The company is overwhelmingly Korean, which means it’s very top-down. You’re not allowed to question authority. I don’t know if you’re even allowed to make suggestions. But I sent the boss a tentative email suggesting that if we wanted to showcase how well we teach kids to read, we might want to address the grammar and usage issues. I didn’t mention the typos.
I just got an email back informing me that the website was designed by the Head Office in New York, and that he would notify them of my observations. I certainly hope he will. I told him to please email them my contact information, should they wish to ask me anything.
I sincerely hope I haven’t offended anyone just by being a white lady with opinions. But the fact is, right now, that website is an embarrassment to the company. I have students who don’t make those grammar errors.
Also, I hope he doesn’t can me for being mouthy.
Jan
31
2010
Ow. Rachel and I and our classmates trekked out to Maple Ridge today for what our teacher calls a Master Class in bellydance. Basically, we’re advanced students and worked on advanced choreography.
It used muscles I forgot I even had. I could tell I was rusty, but Kim got us doing some yoga to warm up, which was a departure from how we usually warm up. It was great, but ow! Those are my hiiiips!
Then we worked on the choreography, which was a challenge, because we haven’t done it for several months. It was less of a mess than I thought, but not perfect by any means.
I worry that as a member of the master class, I will let us down. I get mixed up, especially in a dance when we don’t repeat any sequences. And are using zils. But Kim thinks we can do it, and that means she thinks I can do it. So I will.
But I am *not* going to be a Kitsilano Yoga Bunny.
Jan
28
2010
So I’m puttering around the house, and the tv is on the Food Network. I don’t necessarily watch it, but I like the noise and I like glancing over and seeing yummy food. Also, I get ideas.
But all the shows today have been about Valentines Day meals and for about an hour, I was thinking, “Gosh, these must be reruns. V Day isn’t anywhere around now.”
And then I remembered it is. See, there is no reason for me to think of it because I haven’t really seen E for a while now. I come in from tutoring and he is dozing on the couch. At best, we have a little conversation about the day and then he toddles off to bed because he has to be at work so early, fixing the Olympic stuff that keeps on breaking. In fact, they put a night crew on because the day crew can’t even get to all the stuff that’s breaking during the day. Yeah, VANOC, I wrote that down on the Internet. Suck it.
In any case, I probably won’t see much more of E until after the brouhaha, so we will probably have V Day in March or something. There’s no earthly reason for me to make duck in orange sauce or whatever (current guy is deep-frying okra. I wouldn’t make that at any point) for him at any point in February.
I kind of miss him. The couch is too big.
Jan
21
2010
So when I bought E an iPod for Christmas, I knew I was giving him the gift of music, but I didn’t know I was also giving him a safe way to navigate the streets at night.
Not that he needs it. At six foot five and slightly burly, he looks like there’s a wookie in his immediate family tree. Especially with the shoulder-length hair and the not shaving very often. Only drunk guys with Napoleon complexes challenge him. His strategy is to agree with them until they go away. He’s just not a fighter.
But I was just taking out the recycling and heard him as he wandered into the yard. “Yeeaaah, mmmmmmhm….brawr…dooo doo bwap!” He’s half-singing to himself as he shambles along, shaking his head to the music.
My boyfriend looks like a crazy person when he has his iPod on. I kind of think that’s awesome.
Jan
20
2010
This last pay period, I got paid in cash. Plus a $50 cheque.
That has never happened before. Part of me thinks it’s just some tax thing. After all, my pay stub was accurate. But part of me wonders if the boss is going to do a runner in the middle of the night and Bang! like that I’ll be out of a job.
Enrollment has been decreasing steadily over the last six months or so. I moved from twenty hours a week to eighteen, sometimes sixteen. I assumed it was because the economy is in the toilet all over the world. Korean dads are losing jobs just as much as any other dads are, and that means a lot of Korean moms are upping stakes and moving back before they’d planned.
I know another academy isn’t poaching students because I’d have heard if another one was the new, hot place to go. It looks like the other existing ones in the city are struggling as well.
Logic tells me I should just ask the boss, but he’s not really into transparent communicating. Maybe he’s trying to save face.
But still. I got paid in cash. That troubles me.
Jan
14
2010
I’m trying to be aware when I’m walking around listening to music. I don’t want to be one of those clued-out zombies who stare, slack-jawed, into the distance while old ladies have to stand on the bus, or people on crutches try to get past me.
So I’ve been using my eyes more, and I see there are a lot of people with MP3 players out there. They are everywhere.
So why are they not dancing the way I am? Why do their lips not curl in sheer delight when a riff they love plays? Why aren’t they nodding their heads and swaying? Am I uncool for loving my music? Do I care?
In an unrelated note, I bought a pair of size 6 jeans today. They fit. I was swimming in the size 10 and 8. I cannot credit ten days of iPod dancing, though. Thank you, vanity sizing!
Jan
13
2010
Or something like that. Life is a mixed bag.
We were at a fantastic wedding on the weekend. Longtime friends, potluck food, live music from various people. Family flew in from elsewhere. I danced and drank and helped out in the kitchen. It was lovely. Only one thing marred it. A woman I hardly know put her hand on my belly and said, “Congratulations!”
Now, we all know what this means. It means she thinks I am pregnant. Thanks for the downer, lady. I carry some extra weight on my belly. It’s wine and cheese. It’s not a fetus. But instead of going off about asinine assumptions and the invasion of my personal space, I looked down and asked, “Why?”
She recovered pretty quickly. “Oh! Oh, just your..finding such a lovely partner.” She gazed at E and I walked away. Maybe I should have lectured her. I don’t know. But what pisses me off is that I thought I looked lovely (and not at all pregnant!) in the dress I was wearing. Did she not notice I was drinking and eating runny cheese? Maybe not. Other than that, it was a hell of a good time.
E is up and out early as he is working on Olympics stuff. He and his crew are the only people I know who are benefiting from the enormous clusterfuck the Olympics is turning into. (Can they arrest me for saying the Olympics is a mad clusterfuck? I’m not holding my tongue about that.) He’s up early, home late, and bursting to tell me what he’s doing, but he can’t because of some Olympic gag order. No, really. He’s under orders not to tell ANYONE what is happening, like the ceremonies are some CIA-engineered operation.
I’m really glad he’s busy and needed, as he just got a particularly clueless letter from his well-intentioned father, telling him to ‘give up his dreams’ and go back to school ‘for computers’. I absolutely itch to send that man a bullet-pointed missive stating just how wrong his assumptions are, and how small his worldview is.
One day, I am going to stop holding my tongue, and the world will know me as the angry, righteous bitch I really am. I look forward to it more and more.
Jan
9
2010
Anybody else noticing the strange, patriotic spots on the Space Channel, wherein they wax poetic about someone who died in a war and got a medal? At first I thought it was some kind of Olympic, YAY CANADA propaganda, but Morgan thinks it’s about recruitment.
“Liz, who joins the army?”
“People with low IQs?”
“Um. Sometimes. Who else?”
“Poor people? People who want a free education?”
“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of young, single males. People who watch the Space Channel. They get influenced by the guts and the glory, and they sign up.”
So I told E, as we were watching the Space Channel.
“I’m a young, single male?”
“I guess you are!”
“WooHoo! I’m a young, single male!”
“Yes, you are. But so am I. So we’re going to review our stance on spooning in bed, if you want to keep your current sexual orientation.”
“Oh.”
Morgan’s theory makes more sense than mine, even if not only young, single males watch Space.
Although he also said that Christian groups have been authorized to hand out coffee and cookies at Skytrain stations during the Olympics, because the lines for the trains will be more than an hour long. So I don’t know if I trust his brain.
Oh, wait. this suggests we’re fucked.