| A resurection? |
[Nov. 18th, 2006|12:35 am] |
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I just want everybody to know that I quit. |
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| My Last Post (and my first title!) |
[Sep. 26th, 2006|04:21 pm] |
It was great seeing everybody this weekend. Good, good times all around. Very sorry if I somehow missed you (it doesn't mean you're not liked). It was hard to schedule everything and even harder because of the apparent confusion re: my wording in my email. Sad sad.
Anyway, as an even MORE open invite, my dad is having a going-away party on Saturday, Sept 31 at his place in Detroit. All are welcome (if you can get there). There's free beer (including Chimay Blue!), ribs, salmon steaks, and more! As well as a bed for the night, breakfast in the morning, and the oppurtunity to buy cheap beer at the Duty Free! What more could you ask for?
I hope to see as many of you as are able. Just let me know if you're coming and you're not in Mark's car.
Otherwise, we'll see each other in a year (or, if you're all cool, you can all come out to Banff! I hear the skiing is good and stuff).
To everyone: thanks for everything over the years. I have been truly lucky to know all of you.
I hereby declare this blog closed! Check me out at my new place (same great product, new great look! Now 37.68% better!!) at oustidenotworking.blogspot.com |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 15th, 2006|05:33 pm] |
not being in school feels good. Really good. Don't get me wrong, I liked school a lot. Learning stuff, haning out with people, etc etc etc...good times. what i disliked (and, consequently, what feels good about not being there) was that I'd go to class all day, every day, and hten go home and work on the stuff that i did in class. Burnout and stress and whatever else..bad stuff. Anyway...my first school-free September since I was 3 is going swimmingly.
And now the big announcement....
I got a job in Banff! I will very shortly be an Assistant Manager of Tony Roma's in Banff. Woot! Woot! Woot! Let's cut to the chase...that's $45,000/year right there. And a good job! A *real* job...ish...mostly. But a job that is well-paying, not a day-in, day-out grind, that is TRANSFERABLE for when I go back to school for a grad degree, and that will boost my resume significantly. Oh yea...and it's in Banff. Small detail :p
I'll be in touch. I plan to come to London, probably next weekend, and hopefully have some kind of party. Granted, since I don't have a place in London anymore, there are some rather "small" details that need working out on that front.
Also, I'll be starting a new journal for my parents' sake. My mother is, well for those of you who know Mama Claw, disappointed. But i'm excited! |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 12th, 2006|11:32 am] |
Bonnie and I are watching "The Price is Right"
There's a big black guy that comes down the aisle and eventually gets on stage.
His name is "Ivory". No joke.
Big post coming. I mean BIG!!! |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 3rd, 2006|02:50 pm] |
My dad has cleaning ladies that come in every couple of weeks
Facts:
- They come every 2 weeks. I have been here for 8 weeks. Hence, today is the 4th time they have been here
- They come in pairs. I have never seen the same lady twice. Hence, 8 different ladies
- For some reason unrelated to my query here, they are almost always fatter than blazes. Stupid Americans
- I have a bookcase in my room and on top of the bookcase is some Lord of the Rings paraphenalie arranged as such:
\ - / to make a nice little semi-circular type arrangement. I happen to like it
With the above things in mind consider this:
Every time they have come, they have rearranged my stuff to look like this: _ _ _
WHY?! WHY GOD?! WHY?! |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 21st, 2006|05:19 pm] |
I have a bone to pick with the way Detroiters recycle their bottles and get their deposits back for them.
You see, you have to pack your car full of all your empties and drive to the grocery store where you have to place them, indivudally, into machines labeled "plastic", "cans", and "glass".
INDIVIDUALLY
Automation run amok. I don't want to go to the store with my dirty, nasty, and not-completely-empty empties and proceed to place over 100 of them into a damn machine.
Even worse, there is ONE machine for glass. ONE. Screwed if anybody else is there because i have to wait for that person to individually load bottles first.
This is no way to encourage recycling. I like this even less than the stupid self-checkouts.
Go ahead, call me a luddite.
Oh also, if the empty doesn't have a bar code on it, the machine spits it back instead of taking it for recycling anyway and just not giving you $.10 more. Grrrrr.. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 13th, 2006|01:47 pm] |
Well all, I am now a Canadian citizen. My first act as Canadian citizen? To come home ot Detroit :p In any case, I feel good, proud, and all-around Canadian.
My second act as Canadian citizen was to write to my MP and MPP in Sauble Beach and ask abou the Land Claim Settlement up there. However, since (based on many conversations) I appear to be the only one among us who doesn't believe that we should turnover every claimed land to the First Nations regardless of reason, initial circumstance, or what is currently on it, I will refrain from this discussion here.
What i have for you is the second installment of my series on Michiganders i've met! As promised, today's installment refers to:
-- Slutty Farmer Jack Cashier --
For those of you who don't know, Farmer Jack's is a grocery store. Let's get started
Sophistication: Well, this one is difficult. As suggested by the title I have given her, she dressed quite slutty and was part of the generation of kids that are probably around 16 years of age and dress as if they were 23 year olds down on 8-mile. Never really understood that. It's not attractive, it's slutty. However, this is not isolated to America, so doesn't really count in this survey. I think, unfortunately, I am going to have to stick with an N/A for this one.
Helpfulness: Now we're getting to it. As I also hinted at, this girl was a cashier and so, by definition, she gets paid by the company to take what I buy, put it across the laser scanner thing, and charge me for it. What she does not get paid for is to read her book on the job and when i walk up, keep her back to me and finish her page. Unless, of course, farmer jack is going by a new business model. (side note: this is similar to the cashier in Home Depot who was standing 20feet from her open register and seemed unsure of what to do while I waited by it. I helpfully pointed at the product i was attempting to buy and this seemed to clue her in). Score: D for having the easiest job in the world and failing at it.
Ignorance: As i expect will be commonplace, this is where the money is. You see, I bought beer at the grocery store that day and, as in almost every american i've ever showed my liscence to, she was unable to find my birthdate. I try help out by saying things like "Look in the center bottom" or "It's right here" *point* but these attempts simply seem to confuse. This day, they were met with the comment "no no, i'm looking for your birthday". Granted, the Ontario driver's liscense is not the best designed liscense i've seen, but there is also a limited amount of information on it. It should not take 30 seconds to find my birthday.
It was after this discovery that she asked if i had come to michigan for cheap beer. When I told her that no, I lived here, she was confused but continued along her conversation path anyway. She asked what beer cost in canada (not in ontario, mind you, in Canada. Nevermind the parallel circumstance where boose changes price from state-to-state) and I answered. She was shocked and, after some thought (the quality of which i make no comment on. other than this one), asked a real zinger: "Why would anybody live in Canada?"
Unsure how to answer such a deep and well-informed question, I suggested that one perk was free medical care. While this is not since, as we all know, we pay for it through the teeth in taxes (much of which probably comes from beer, ironically enough), I felt that it was an appropriate thing to say. This girl was now QUITE shocked and ranted for a while about how her dad spends $6000 in health care every year and how (despite 30 seconds earlier professing a lack of information towards why one would live in canada) she thinks she'll buy a house in Canada so that she can get free medical care as well.
I should point out that her plan does not involve MOVING to Canada. She only wants to buy a house there and continue living in the States. It was here that I saw fit to discontinue the conversation. Score? A+
So let's sum up
-- Slutty Farmer Jack Cashier --
Sophistication: N/A
Helpfulness: D
Ignorance: A+
A fine specimen! |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 26th, 2006|11:13 am] |
I guess I haven't yet written about how I'm back in Michigan. Well I am. I can't believe they still have neighborhood ice cream wagons here. The music is WAY more annoying now though.
Anyway, I had forgotten just how different from Canada it is here. VERY different. How? Well let's start with "RAMPANT CAPITALISM". Usually works out in my favor, if I can just put up with the insane amount of advertising without going postal on the place.
The other difference? The people, for sure. So different that I am introducing a new series all about Americans that I meet. In my haughtiness, I will be ranking them in 3 categories:
Helpfulness
Sophistication
Ignorance
To explain how the system works, I will use the control group of: friends in London. Most of you would rank as follows
Helpfulness - A
Sophisticaion - A
Ignorance - F (or in my case, D or C :p)
Good score! Get yourselves a beer! In fact, you could do no better!
Now a quick vignette putting the system into action:
Greg and I needed a piano dolly for the move. WE located this store.
Sophistication: There were several people helping us, and the first thing we noticed was that one of them was chewing tobacco and spitting it all over the place. Very nasty. I'd never actually seen it in person before. Inside the store, outside the store... who cares? Gotta spit when you gotta spit. That's what I always say. 2nd thing? The giant pet tarantula next to the service desk. i don't know if greg ever saw it, but holy crap it gave me the willies. Did I mention the rusted-out equipment all over the lawn? Score? D
Helpfulness: Wow! What i needed was in an awkward place, and they were only too excited to show it to me before i'd even agreed to rent it! Big, heavy, high-up, and awkwardly shaped? no problem. Then, it didn't fit in my car, so they took it apart! Woot! Helped us put it in the car and everything else. Score? A
Ignorance: Mixed bag here. As with most people, when I gave Canadian ID they ha dsomething to say about it. However, it was not the usual. These people wanted to tell me about all the things about canada that they KNEW. Like African Lion Safari, St. Jacob, and Pelee Island. Ok, so that's not really Canada, but it's 3 more things than most people I've met down here know. At the same time, for thinking they could strike up a conversation with a random Canadian about any 3 specfic locations (office bob? he's dead), they will have their score penalized. Score? C
Next time, the story of the girl who, to save her father $6,000 on medical insurance, wants to buy and maintain a house in Canada |
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| Call me what you will |
[Jun. 22nd, 2006|01:30 pm] |
My mom wrote this for the paper and her MP. I think it's worth posting. So I am.
Sorry that I don't know how to use LJ cuts
The advantages to being an Indian are becoming more and more enticing. All you need is a so-called “band card” and you’re in. And all you need to get a band card is 1/16th Indian blood in you. With this band card come many privileges, i.e., you are exempt from paying taxes of any kind. Wouldn’t it be nice not to have work six months every year just to give it to the government? And every time you made a purchase not to have to pay all that tax on top of the already astronomical price tag.
And then there are the medical benefits. It’s free, plain and simple. And along with all the free meds, comes a little piece of paper you get to have the doctor sign and then you receive your gas and mileage back for visiting the doctor. Wow, get paid to go to the doctor.
And the price of education today we all know is beyond belief. Well, don’t worry about that either. It’s taken care of.
Plus, on top of all this free stuff, you get an allowance to spend on alcohol, beer and cigarettes.
And when all this being taken care of begins to bore you, you can always move on to the latest idea, claiming your ancestors were cheated and claiming land already owned by other people. What fun!
But wait, there are more perks. When you are told you can’t have the land, you can pile up a bunch of old beat up cars and set them on fire. You can dig up roads and destroy and loot property. You can even tie up a whole community. And the best part about this all is that no one is going to anything about your two year old antics. They aren’t going to tell you to go sit in the corner or that you have been very bad. They are just going to let you get away with it. What more could you ask for?
Life off other people and do anything you want. With this attitude, it is no wonder we have problems with the Indians today.
It’s time the government did away with the reservations and made the Indians citizens of the country they live in and embedded all the responsibilities into their communities as the rest of us. Earn a living, pay the taxes and buy your own beer. And most of all, if you break the law, you will pay for it.
The land claims the Indians have today are ridiculous. Their claim is that their ancestors were cheated. Their ancestors were paid according to the monetary value or currency at the time whether it was beads or dollars. An example would be the property and home my husband building the early 1980’s which cost us $19,000 for the lot and $140,000 to build the house. I sold the house in the early 1990’s for nearly $300,000. Now the builder comes back to me and says I cheated him because the house is twice the value today as it was when I paid him for it. If this be the case, then we should all look back at our buying and selling and file some claims. Hey, don’t forget to burn some cars at the ends of the drives or just dig them up so no one can get in till you get your money.
I remember as a young girl, the Indians bringing their wares to the house to sell, beautiful art and furniture to die for today. I also remember stories about how the Indians valued the land and all that was on it or above it. They were a people to be respected because of their beliefs. It seems the young people today do not have the same value for their environment. They burn cars and churn thick black smoke into the blue sky and they destroy property. A prime example of this is what they have done to beautiful Ipperwash. It’s a disgrace!
When you are given everything ---- you respect nothing!
Any respect the non-Indian population had for the Indians is fading fast if not already gone. They have managed to alienate most Canadians and communities. It is time the government stood it’s ground and said NO. It may have been yours once, but it is not now. If this is not stopped, these claims and destruction of property will continue until the damage is irreversible.
I believe the Indians, by their actions, have shown us that the time for taking care of them is over. It is time they took care of themselves and bought land like the rest of us and pay taxes on it also |
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