So we are in the new place. Yesterday was a very long day. (Made bearable and fun by our lovely family and friends who did so, so, so much to help out. Thanks, guys!)
We have snuck into Serdic's work so that we can both satisfy our internet addiction ... having no internet in the new apartment for a few days is going to be a trial. Although it's not like we don't have enough to do in the apartment ... being without internet means we might actually get it done before we go back to work on Tuesday!
Leaving my old place was very hard (there may or may not have been tears). I have been extremely happy in that apartment for nearly five years, and I've grown a lot and figured out a lot about myself. I think I truly for the first time became a happy person, comfortable in my own skin, while living in that apartment. So it was hard to leave. And I'm going to miss Serdic's apartment, too -- a lot of my favourite memories of the beginning of our relationship are in that apartment. But onward and upward ... the new place is gorgeous and spacious, and I think we're going to be really happy there. It's feeling a bit claustrophobic at the moment, with the piles of boxes and nothing where it's supposed to be, but the potential is there to make a really lovely home. We're really excited about that part, and hopefully by this time tomorrow we'll have made a good start at it. This is the fun part!
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
T Minus Nine Hours
Packing is nearly finished (we are nose deep in my shit belongings). Moving about to commence.
Pray for us, faithful readers.
Pray for us, faithful readers.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Odds and ends
T minus 2 and a half days until The Move. Gah.
We received the new editions of the Library of Congress Subject Headings yesterday (this is perhaps my most frequently used daily tool in my job). Perhaps you have to be a librarian (or a cataloguer?) to understand how exciting that is. But everyone can understand the delicious smell of new books, fresh off the press. Yay. And I didn't even spill coffee on my copy on the first day which is, you know, unusual for me.
Saw a production of The Penelopiad at the NAC last night. Adapted from a story by Margaret Atwood, one of Canada's greatest and brightest literary lights, The Penelopiad tells the story of what Penelope and her twelve doomed maids were doing while they waited for Odysseus to come home from his Odyssey. Not exactly an uplifting story, which is par for the course with Greek myths, but beautifully presented and performed, with clever, inventive and moving story telling, capped off by a brilliant performance from the leading lady. Highly, highly, highly recommended. It plays at the NAC through next weekend, I believe.
People who are on my nerves today, in no particular order, include but are not limited to:
1) The lady who, during "rush hour" lunch time in the coffee shop, took several minutes to decide which biscuit she wanted to go with her soup, and had to be told the choices six times. They're biscuits, lady. Five minutes after you eat it you won't even remember what flavour you chose. Get on with it, or let the rest of us go ahead while you debate your options.
2) The bus driver who insisted on having the heat on high this morning, for some reason known only to him, as it was approximately 30 degrees (celcius, which translates to "too damn hot for the end of September" for my American friends) outside. Meaning a) I couldn't rest my leg against the side of the bus because the heat was burning right through my pant leg, so I had to sit in an uncomfortable position for the entire ride, and b) people started opening the windows, even though it was raining, which meant everyone got wet.
3) Gatineau's urban planners.
4) The lady who just got on the elevator with me who tapped her foot, chomped her gum, and obsessively pushed the button for her floor over and over and over. I get it, lady. You're in a hurry. You are very busy and important. Bully for you.
On a better note, the people I love today include but are not limited to:
1) Serdic, who while I was at the play hauled load after load of garbage and recycling out of my apartment. And for a multitude of other reasons.
2) My friend J, with whom I went to the play last night. I always love spending time with her.
3) My favourite coffee shop girl, who remembered I don't like tomato and so picked it all out of my tossed salad, making sure I got lots of peppers and cucumber instead.
4) All of our family and friends who are going to help us with The Move. We are very blessed when it comes to friends.
So it all balances out.
We received the new editions of the Library of Congress Subject Headings yesterday (this is perhaps my most frequently used daily tool in my job). Perhaps you have to be a librarian (or a cataloguer?) to understand how exciting that is. But everyone can understand the delicious smell of new books, fresh off the press. Yay. And I didn't even spill coffee on my copy on the first day which is, you know, unusual for me.
Saw a production of The Penelopiad at the NAC last night. Adapted from a story by Margaret Atwood, one of Canada's greatest and brightest literary lights, The Penelopiad tells the story of what Penelope and her twelve doomed maids were doing while they waited for Odysseus to come home from his Odyssey. Not exactly an uplifting story, which is par for the course with Greek myths, but beautifully presented and performed, with clever, inventive and moving story telling, capped off by a brilliant performance from the leading lady. Highly, highly, highly recommended. It plays at the NAC through next weekend, I believe.
People who are on my nerves today, in no particular order, include but are not limited to:
1) The lady who, during "rush hour" lunch time in the coffee shop, took several minutes to decide which biscuit she wanted to go with her soup, and had to be told the choices six times. They're biscuits, lady. Five minutes after you eat it you won't even remember what flavour you chose. Get on with it, or let the rest of us go ahead while you debate your options.
2) The bus driver who insisted on having the heat on high this morning, for some reason known only to him, as it was approximately 30 degrees (celcius, which translates to "too damn hot for the end of September" for my American friends) outside. Meaning a) I couldn't rest my leg against the side of the bus because the heat was burning right through my pant leg, so I had to sit in an uncomfortable position for the entire ride, and b) people started opening the windows, even though it was raining, which meant everyone got wet.
3) Gatineau's urban planners.
4) The lady who just got on the elevator with me who tapped her foot, chomped her gum, and obsessively pushed the button for her floor over and over and over. I get it, lady. You're in a hurry. You are very busy and important. Bully for you.
On a better note, the people I love today include but are not limited to:
1) Serdic, who while I was at the play hauled load after load of garbage and recycling out of my apartment. And for a multitude of other reasons.
2) My friend J, with whom I went to the play last night. I always love spending time with her.
3) My favourite coffee shop girl, who remembered I don't like tomato and so picked it all out of my tossed salad, making sure I got lots of peppers and cucumber instead.
4) All of our family and friends who are going to help us with The Move. We are very blessed when it comes to friends.
So it all balances out.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Pack Rats Anonymous
So I've started packing and, uh, I'm screwed. I packed all day yesterday (except for the two hour mid-afternoon nap Serdic and I took, which we both agreed was one of the Top Five Best Naps of All Time) and feel like I haven't made a dent. I know I must have, because there's a huge stack of boxes in my living room, but I've been doing the easy stuff first -- books, CDs, DVDs ... stuff that's coming off shelves and fits nicely into rows in the boxes. So all the shelves are empty, but all the big stuff remains. I did empty out the drawers of my desk last night, which was interesting. When I moved to Ottawa from London (Ontario, not England, sadly enough) I was in classes right up until a couple of days before I moved, so I just threw everything in boxes and didn't do much of a purge at all, so there is some stuff in this apartment that I haven't looked at since I was in London, and it's just gotten buried under other stuff. I came across all kinds of neat things, and all kinds of garbage.
It's interesting in general to sort through the last five years of my life as I get ready to move. To decide what I want to keep and what I don't need any longer (I am a pack rat so the second list is very long indeed). Sometimes it's bittersweet, like the moment last night when I stumbled across a birthday card from a couple of years ago from my grandparents, where my grandad had written his own message inside. That's unusual -- my grandmother usually just signed both of their names to any card they sent me. But for whatever reason (I suspect this card was the one I received the summer he was undergoing chemo and was quite ill), on this card he wrote a lengthy message of his own about how much he loved me and how proud he was to call me granddaughter. Something that was lovely at the time but got tucked in a drawer and forgotten is now a treasure beyond rubies.
It's also interesting to have someone else to share the chore. Serdic has been so good to me, hauling garbage and recycling down to the basement, cleaning and scrubbing and moving boxes, helping me figure out a plan of attack, and when things become overwhelming keeping me focused on the end goal, which is being snug as two bugs in a rug in our new place in less than a week.
Today, I tackle my front hall and bedroom closets. Pray for me, faithful readers.
It's interesting in general to sort through the last five years of my life as I get ready to move. To decide what I want to keep and what I don't need any longer (I am a pack rat so the second list is very long indeed). Sometimes it's bittersweet, like the moment last night when I stumbled across a birthday card from a couple of years ago from my grandparents, where my grandad had written his own message inside. That's unusual -- my grandmother usually just signed both of their names to any card they sent me. But for whatever reason (I suspect this card was the one I received the summer he was undergoing chemo and was quite ill), on this card he wrote a lengthy message of his own about how much he loved me and how proud he was to call me granddaughter. Something that was lovely at the time but got tucked in a drawer and forgotten is now a treasure beyond rubies.
It's also interesting to have someone else to share the chore. Serdic has been so good to me, hauling garbage and recycling down to the basement, cleaning and scrubbing and moving boxes, helping me figure out a plan of attack, and when things become overwhelming keeping me focused on the end goal, which is being snug as two bugs in a rug in our new place in less than a week.
Today, I tackle my front hall and bedroom closets. Pray for me, faithful readers.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
What he said
I was all ready to post a moving update this morning, but Serdic has it covered. Yay for firm moving in dates! Yay for building a home together! Boo for everything I have to do in the next ten days.
I will add a couple of things. One of my major responsibilities here has been that we are going to use my phone, cable, and utilities accounts (Serdic not having cable, his utilities included with his current abode, and us not needing two phone lines) and so I needed to make the arrangements to transfer them over. Serdic has taken care of so many of the arrangements to this point, being the one to do all of the phoning around, booking viewings of apartments, connecting with our future landlord for lease signings and move dates, so this is the least I could do. But there is a reason I have let him handle all of that ... I hate making phone calls. I don't know why, I just have this irrational hatred of picking up that phone and dialing. I don't mind talking on the phone (as those who have spent hours on the phone with me know all too well) but I hardly ever initiate the call. Serdic says one of the ways he knew I loved him was when I started phoning him, and I still don't do it all that often, preferring to drop an email if I can. Which is just silly. I'm the same way with just about everyone I know, up to and including my grandparents, sister, and closest friends. I think it stems from my insecurities and lack of self-confidence ... I'm always worried I'll be bothering/interrupting/annoying the person I'm trying to call. Which, again, is just silly. But there it is.
But. These accounts are in my name, therefore Serdic can't make these phone calls for me. (He would if he could, because he's just that damn awesome.) So I have been putting it off. And it has gotten into a vicious cycle, as now I feel guilty about putting it off, so I continue to put it off because I don't want to deal with it because I feel guilty. I felt like I was letting Serdic down, and I was mad at myself because I just had to do this one little thing and why was I being so stupid about it? Unfortunately, hoping something like this will go away hardly ever works, so today I sucked it up and called Bell to transfer my phone service and find out our new phone number (which we need to provide to other people).
And of course it was fine, and no problem, and the customer service agent was terrific (I actually dropped Bell an email -- see? -- to compliment her, because I think we are all so quick to complain but we don't take time out often enough to say "well done, you") and we are all good to go. I figured out how to transfer my utilities online, and also set up a mail forwarding account with Canada Post for the next six months. So now I just need to call Rogers to deal with the cable, and that's the major bills dealt with (already changed my address online with bank last week). Just doing something about it has made me feel so much better, as of course is so often the case.
And while I have been doing all that, my beloved has been doing this.
I will add a couple of things. One of my major responsibilities here has been that we are going to use my phone, cable, and utilities accounts (Serdic not having cable, his utilities included with his current abode, and us not needing two phone lines) and so I needed to make the arrangements to transfer them over. Serdic has taken care of so many of the arrangements to this point, being the one to do all of the phoning around, booking viewings of apartments, connecting with our future landlord for lease signings and move dates, so this is the least I could do. But there is a reason I have let him handle all of that ... I hate making phone calls. I don't know why, I just have this irrational hatred of picking up that phone and dialing. I don't mind talking on the phone (as those who have spent hours on the phone with me know all too well) but I hardly ever initiate the call. Serdic says one of the ways he knew I loved him was when I started phoning him, and I still don't do it all that often, preferring to drop an email if I can. Which is just silly. I'm the same way with just about everyone I know, up to and including my grandparents, sister, and closest friends. I think it stems from my insecurities and lack of self-confidence ... I'm always worried I'll be bothering/interrupting/annoying the person I'm trying to call. Which, again, is just silly. But there it is.
But. These accounts are in my name, therefore Serdic can't make these phone calls for me. (He would if he could, because he's just that damn awesome.) So I have been putting it off. And it has gotten into a vicious cycle, as now I feel guilty about putting it off, so I continue to put it off because I don't want to deal with it because I feel guilty. I felt like I was letting Serdic down, and I was mad at myself because I just had to do this one little thing and why was I being so stupid about it? Unfortunately, hoping something like this will go away hardly ever works, so today I sucked it up and called Bell to transfer my phone service and find out our new phone number (which we need to provide to other people).
And of course it was fine, and no problem, and the customer service agent was terrific (I actually dropped Bell an email -- see? -- to compliment her, because I think we are all so quick to complain but we don't take time out often enough to say "well done, you") and we are all good to go. I figured out how to transfer my utilities online, and also set up a mail forwarding account with Canada Post for the next six months. So now I just need to call Rogers to deal with the cable, and that's the major bills dealt with (already changed my address online with bank last week). Just doing something about it has made me feel so much better, as of course is so often the case.
And while I have been doing all that, my beloved has been doing this.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Musings from a bus
In theory, I am a firm supporter of public transit. I think it's good to reduce the number of cars on the road, public transit for me is definitely cheaper than maintaining a car, I don't have to worry about weather or traffic and can just settle in with a book and my iPod, and I am willing most of the time to deal with the increased inconvenience of not having a car in order to be a good citizen and save money. But there are definitely times when I hate, hate, HAAAAATE taking the bus. And as I think about it, I realize that 90% of that is because of the other idiots who take public transit as well. And I'm not even talking about people like the ladies I overheard last year talking about how they refused to take the #2 bus anymore because of all the, and I quote, "coloured people" who ride that route nowadays (the girl sitting next to me and I exchanged the most perfect raised eyebrow "Whaaaaaaa?" look when we heard that), but just your general garden variety urban assholes.
I have long thought these Urban Asshole Notification Cards were inspired, and wished I had the guts to order a pack or two and use them. But I think we need to make up ones specifically for users of public transit. Violations would include:
1) Getting on an empty bus with only one other person and sitting down directly beside that other person. Sure, just like sitting next to the only other person in a movie theatre, there is nothing specifically rude or wrong about sitting where you want to sit, but why bypass all the other empty seats in order to be in someone else's personal space?
1b) Taking up more than your allotted space when you do sit next to someone. Now, I'm a big girl, I realize this, but when I am sharing a seat on the bus with someone I make every effort to make myself as small as possible and not intrude on my seatmate. And that includes making sure my purse and any other bags stay on my side of the dividing line. Men who sit with their legs spread and slouched down in their seats? That doesn't make your penis any bigger, sorry.
2) Conversely, the bus is packed and people are standing in the aisles, and yet somehow your backpack still needs its own seat. There better be an original of the Magna Carta in that backpack, because otherwise I'm not understanding what, exactly, is so special about it. Move it, asshole, and let someone sit down.
3) Getting on the bus and standing in the aisle directly behind the driver, instead of moving further back. Forcing everyone who wants to get on or off the bus to squeeze past you.
4) Wearing a backpack while standing in the aisle ... you are guaranteed to be smacking someone who is seated in the head with that backpack every time you move.
5) Waiting until you are on the bus to start looking for your pass/fare. You have been standing at the bus stop for ten minutes, putz. Why do you now need to hold up a line of people waiting to get on the bus while you fumble through every last pocket (and they are invariably wearing cargo pants with eleventy billion pockets)? Minus an extra ten points if you do this on a rainy day, making everyone else behind you wait in the rain.
6) Carrying on a loud conversation, either with a companion or on your cell phone. Nobody cares, nobody wants to hear it. Keep your voice down.
7) Testing all the different ring tones on your cell phone. Yes, faithful readers, I have seen this more than once. Sure, it's something to do to occupy yourself on a long bus ride. Too bad you're going to burn in hell.
8) Plopping down in one of the priority seats at the front of the bus, pulling out a book and studiously ignoring the elderly, disabled or pregnant riders who get on after you. You're able bodied and healthy -- be thankful for that and let someone who needs it have the seat.
9) Carrying on a lengthy conversation with the driver about anything other than the route or what stop you need. He or she is doing a very difficult job, and has the lives of many other people in his or her hands. No one cares what movie you saw last night or your thoughts on the current political climate in Ontario. Let the driver do his or her job without distraction or irritation.
In short, sit in your seat, keep quiet, don't intrude on other people and be courteous to those around you. You wouldn't really think it would be that hard, eh?
Tune in next week when we continue our lessons in how not to be an urban asshole, with sessions on elevator ettiquette and "Sidewalks: For walking, not gawking ... or biking."
I have long thought these Urban Asshole Notification Cards were inspired, and wished I had the guts to order a pack or two and use them. But I think we need to make up ones specifically for users of public transit. Violations would include:
1) Getting on an empty bus with only one other person and sitting down directly beside that other person. Sure, just like sitting next to the only other person in a movie theatre, there is nothing specifically rude or wrong about sitting where you want to sit, but why bypass all the other empty seats in order to be in someone else's personal space?
1b) Taking up more than your allotted space when you do sit next to someone. Now, I'm a big girl, I realize this, but when I am sharing a seat on the bus with someone I make every effort to make myself as small as possible and not intrude on my seatmate. And that includes making sure my purse and any other bags stay on my side of the dividing line. Men who sit with their legs spread and slouched down in their seats? That doesn't make your penis any bigger, sorry.
2) Conversely, the bus is packed and people are standing in the aisles, and yet somehow your backpack still needs its own seat. There better be an original of the Magna Carta in that backpack, because otherwise I'm not understanding what, exactly, is so special about it. Move it, asshole, and let someone sit down.
3) Getting on the bus and standing in the aisle directly behind the driver, instead of moving further back. Forcing everyone who wants to get on or off the bus to squeeze past you.
4) Wearing a backpack while standing in the aisle ... you are guaranteed to be smacking someone who is seated in the head with that backpack every time you move.
5) Waiting until you are on the bus to start looking for your pass/fare. You have been standing at the bus stop for ten minutes, putz. Why do you now need to hold up a line of people waiting to get on the bus while you fumble through every last pocket (and they are invariably wearing cargo pants with eleventy billion pockets)? Minus an extra ten points if you do this on a rainy day, making everyone else behind you wait in the rain.
6) Carrying on a loud conversation, either with a companion or on your cell phone. Nobody cares, nobody wants to hear it. Keep your voice down.
7) Testing all the different ring tones on your cell phone. Yes, faithful readers, I have seen this more than once. Sure, it's something to do to occupy yourself on a long bus ride. Too bad you're going to burn in hell.
8) Plopping down in one of the priority seats at the front of the bus, pulling out a book and studiously ignoring the elderly, disabled or pregnant riders who get on after you. You're able bodied and healthy -- be thankful for that and let someone who needs it have the seat.
9) Carrying on a lengthy conversation with the driver about anything other than the route or what stop you need. He or she is doing a very difficult job, and has the lives of many other people in his or her hands. No one cares what movie you saw last night or your thoughts on the current political climate in Ontario. Let the driver do his or her job without distraction or irritation.
In short, sit in your seat, keep quiet, don't intrude on other people and be courteous to those around you. You wouldn't really think it would be that hard, eh?
Tune in next week when we continue our lessons in how not to be an urban asshole, with sessions on elevator ettiquette and "Sidewalks: For walking, not gawking ... or biking."
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
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