Category Archives: Bitchin’

Phone-y

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At the beginning of September, my latest contract with Telus finally came to an end and I made the switch to Rogers.

None of the mobile phone providers here actually offer what I’d call “good” rates on voice or data packages in the range I’m using, so my decision to go with Rogers was made strictly from a CDMA vs. GSM standpoint. I also wanted a smartphone with windows mobile and wifi, and Rogers delivered the option that was within my budget: the HTC S621.

Thanks to the recent arrival number portability in Canada, I was also able to keep my number and just swap it over to the Rogers account. Easy peasy. It only took about 18 seconds for the swap to happen.

And this is where I say FEAR YE THE PORTING OF MOBILE NUMBERS!!!!

Check your cancellation agreements, double check your dates, and make DAMN SURE everything you do is on the up and up. If it’s not, you could find yourself on the receiving end of a hefty fine, like I almost was.

I told the Rogers salesguy (a store manager no-less) while I was purchasing that I wanted to port my number, and I was pretty sure I only had a couple days left on my telus mobility contract. He didn’t mention anything about possible conflicts. I figured it was no biggie. I didn’t actually realize until it was done that the porting thing was instant – I figured it would take a couple days, based on the experience I had transferring my land line from telus to Vonage.

Not so much.

I called telus about an hour later when I got home, and found out that the second my number ported, my telus contract was cancelled and I was automatically levied their termination fee of $100 or $20 for every month or portion remaining, whichever is MORE.

And how “early” was my early cancellation? 13 hours. I ported my number at 11:00am September 3rd. My contract expired September 4th.

But according to the first few folks at telus I spoke to, I cancelled early, that is that, and I owe them $100 plus tax.

But remember that bit at the beginning where I said I “almost” paid a hefty fine? I was unfailingly polite, used every ounce of customer-service-fu I possess and prayed to every deity I could think of. And the unthinkable happened.

TELUS MOBILITY, THAT UNCARING, UNCOUTH LEGACY INCUMBENT BEHEMOTH – THEY OF THE “NO INCENTIVES FOR BEING A CUSTOMER FOR SEVEN LONG YEARS DESPITE THE FACT THAT NEW CUSTOMERS GET A BUCKET OF GOLD AND A BLOWJOB WITH THEIR FREE PHONE” – THEY GAVE ME A GOODWILL DISCOUNT FOR THE VALUE OF THE CANCELLATION FEE!

I know, pick yourself up off the floor, and read it again just to be sure. They waived the fee. I didn’t believe it either, which is why I didn’t blog about it until the bill showed up in my mailbox stating as such. But it did, and I paid my $20-worth of pro-rated fees happily!

Anyhow, I have a new phone, it’s pretty skookum (although I still can’t figure out how to upload pictures to flickr with it – help anyone?), and I managed to find the three people in the telus organization who haven’t succumbed to the borg. I almost feel bad for signing my soul away to their competitor. Almost.

Shitstorm

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Edited April 21, 2009 for The Big Wild‘s Singing in the Rain contest. Oh there was rain all right. Record-breaking rain. And that was the least of our troubles!

So Neil and I went on a canoeing/camping trip.

Oh my holy hell.

Honestly, I had a good time – but I’m not particularly pleased with:

-the guy who rented us canoes
-the BC Forest Service
-those who use their campsites regularly
-mother nature

We did the Sayward Lakes canoe circuit, which has been advertised all over the place as perfectly suitable for novices. The recommended time for the journey is 3-4 days, and we allowed 5, so we figured we’d be good with the time and our levels of fitness and experience.

Boy were we wrong.

Well, not so much us – but this is definitely not a trip for novices to either canoeing or backpacking. Or those who have a strong aversion to poor planning, bad direction or piles and piles and piles of shit.

For those not “in the know” – canoes come with wheels these days. They fit nicely in the bottom when you’re paddling, and strap to the underside for portaging. So you’d expect that the person renting and instructing you on the use of said wheels would tell you the correct way to use them. You’d be wrong. We were told to put the wheels on the back 1/3 of the canoe and pull it along behind us. Because we’re bumping down root- and rock-covered trails, the wheels would bump bump bounce off the narrow back end. Not to mention the incredible amount of effort required to pull the canoe (loaded with our stuff) through the forest.

Thankfully we met another canoeist along the way who had his wheels right under the middle of the boat. After we tried that method we found the canoes were much easier to maneuver, dealt with the weight much better, the wheels actually stayed on and portaging was all around much more pleasant.

So now that we’ve figured out the wheel situation, you’d expect that an advertised canoe portage trail would be suitable for the wheels that everyone is allegedly using. You’d be wrong again. In various places there are logs over the trails (unstrap the wheels, lift the canoe, strap back on), the corners are too narrow to get the canoe around, there are dangerous downhills (tricky to walk down, let alone wrangle a canoe on wheels without letting it go). In one shining example, we canoed down a canal, only to find that there was a giant log at the output to the next lake! We had to precariously get out of the canoe onto the log, drag the canoe over some bushes (growing out of mud) around the log, and put back in (covered in mud of course) without falling in the lake and/or tipping the canoe.

But we made it. Because at least the trails, while difficult, were well marked and the map was easy to follow, right? Oh no – wrong again. Trail markers were mostly nonexistent. When they were visible they were in stupid places (like 6″ off the ground), or faded out to grey so they were nearly impossible to see from any distance. One part of the trail (Twin Lake and Swamp Channels) had very little direction on the map or trail (we were “lost” for a good 2 hours), and finally sent us over 3 beaver dams to get to the next lake. Sorry Beavers. Nevermind the danger of leaving people to “find their own way” in the woods, the destroying a dam thing just can’t be ecologically sound…

At least the camping was nice, though! Except, not so much. I understand that part of the allure of visiting a BC Forest Service campsite is the fact that they’re a) usually fairly remote and b) usually free. The downside to that is the fact that they rarely had any facilities. No worry – people will just dig a hole. Except they don’t. The campsites are COVERED in landmines. People seem to just shit where the urge strikes them. It’s completely gross. Add to that the fact that our dog fancies herself a turd-burgler – we learned pretty quick we had to keep her tied up in camp, or risk having her run off and return with an upset tummy and some VERY bad breath.

So the canoes sucked. The trails sucked. The campsites sucked.

At least the weather was nice? Hahahaha. Of course not. There was rain on the first night, and record breaking rain on the 2nd night. Raindrops falling so hard and thick that they hurt.

So is it any surprise that after night two, Neil and I bailed? The entire group decided to cut across a logging road that bisects the circuit and head back to the starting point. If the weather improved or the group was up to it, camping would continue at sites on the lake where we initially put in so at least we were somewhere familiar, shit-free, and within reach of the cars should the situation not improve. Neil and I took that opportunity to finally escape the rain (which it did for one more night) and actually ended up spending the next two days at his parents’ lodge instead of camping. That was entirely pleasant and relaxing. The rest of the group had a great time on the last night as well – the weather cleared right up and the lake itself was gorgeous.

So while I’m definitely still a fan of camping, and definitely still like canoeing – I have a strong suspicion that in my world, never again shall the two meet.

End of an Era

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You can’t imagine how unbelievably sad I am to be writing this entry.

Ending any relationship is hard, but this one meant more to me than most. It’s seen me through so much, been with me through good times and bad, and its warm, comforting embrace has been the one constant I’ve had to rely on when nothing else was going right.

My friends, I am off coffee.

Caffe Nero

I’ve been pretty ill for quite some time. Since late March I’ve been dealing with being completely irregular (varying widely from one end of that particular spectrum to the other), and random attacks of nausea. It’s gotten to bad that I’ve had to walk out on dinners (because just being in the presence of food is enough to trigger illness) and have bolted from a cab, upstairs to the bathroom just in time to hurl. I have spent more nights than I care to admit to myself curled up in the fetal position waiting for the sweet release of sleep – or death – or anything to make me stop feeling like my torso is being turned inside-out.

Now I’m at a point where I don’t like going out much, because I have no idea how I’ll feel or what might happen (it tends to come out of “nowhere”). I’ve lost 5lbs – but not in a good way. I’ve actually mostly abandoned any sort of serious exercise routine, because on a daily basis I’m never sure if I’ll be able to consume enough calories to make it through a workout without fainting. And of course, the lack of exercise means my energy levels have gone waaaaaay down, and I’m mostly tired all the time.

It was clearly time to do something about this, and I’m already familiar with the processes of dealing with GI distresses – so I started paying really close attention to everything I do and eat.

And one constant I’ve found is coffee.

I’ve not had any for a few days (or the couple cups I have had made me pretty sick) – and I’m already starting to feel better.

I almost wish I didn’t.

But for now, coffee is dead to me. Really rich foods (especially dense, dark chocolates) and wine are on notice.

Of course, if I actually have to move either one of those to the banned list, life may not be worth living anymore.

At the moment, though, things are slowly getting better – and Neil has switched from delivering java in the mornings to tea instead.

Harried

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A letter I just submitted through Chapters’ online Customer Service form:

——————————————————————–

I am completely and utterly disappointed by the way the Harry Potter release “delivery day shipment” was handled.

I’m not sure whether it was an issue with Chapters, or with Canada Post, but my order was NOT delivered today, Saturday July 21st by the time of writing (9:40pm). Canada Post’s tracking information states the book is still “out for delivery” as it has been since 8:11am.

I have never had issue receiving orders from Canada Post at my apartment before – they manage to deliver my mail daily, and yet I have not received my order, nor any slip on my door or in my mailbox stating that they were unable to make a delivery and I should pick up my book at a postal outlet. The tracking website also has not been updated to state that an attempted delivery was even made.

I believed in the promise that Chapters and Canada Post made to their customers, that pre-orders received by a certain date would be honoured and delivered between 8:00am and 6:00pm today.

Because that promise was broken, I will be returning my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows whenever it arrives, and purchasing it instead from an independent book retailer.

I purchased from Chapters because I believed your organization had the corporate skill and ability to effectively partner with an organization that would deliver my book, conveniently, as promised, on the day of release.

Instead, I have wasted an entire day waiting for a promise that wasn’t fulfilled. And it will certainly cause me to rethink my decision to purchase from Chapters – either in-store or online – in the future.

Sincerely,
-Jennifer

——————————————————————–

Canada Post will be getting a similar tirade, once I have access to a browser that is compatible with their site. Anyone else have this problem, and anyone know of a store (that isn’t Chapters) where I can buy a copy of the damn book tomorrow?

Update: July 25/07

Chapters = Awesome

Canada Post = Not so much.

Chapters was really accommodating responding to my request, taking my return at the store and refunding my purchase including shipping. They have apologized profusely, and basically done everything right.

Canada post told me initially they couldn’t help, and when pressed, relented to “sending a message to the depot, with instructions to tell all carriers to always attempt delivery.” Considering Chapters’ site stated that posties were already instructed to attempt delivery whenever possible, I don’t have much faith in their instruction. I was also explicitly told that I shouldn’t expect a follow-up.

I am still not impressed, and disappointed on Chapters’ behalf, because while they did everything right I still won’t buy from them if they partner with Canada Post again for a release like that. I hope they’re wise enough to use a more reliable courier if there is a next time.

Odiferous

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I only wish I were talking about Neil’s stanky running shirt again.

Despite the fact that it had only been 3 days long, this week has been exceedingly busy for me. I’ve had 4 interviews in 3 days and managed to pick up a freelance project. Combine that with an evening volunteering, the sudden heat that I’m not used to yet, and the rest of life that needs taking care of – all I wanted to do last night was relax.

After finally finishing for the day and grabbing some dinner out (we have been too busy to procure foodstuffs), it was about 9:30pm and I was looking forward to hitting the couch with a good book or whatever TiVo had in store.

Neil wanted nothing more than to go walk the dog to the beach. Despite his cajoling, I (who’d already been out with the beast twice that day) resisted and grabbed a book while he took the dog and headed out.

I’d only gotten a couple pages in when the phone rang:

Jen: Hello?
Neil: You’ll never believe what just happened to the dog
Jen: uh…. I assume she’s alive?
Neil: Oh yah – but guess what she got into?
Jen: She rolled in something smelly?
Neil: Close!
Jen: Uh…..
Neil: She got sprayed by a skunk!

If you have ever dealt with this before, you know what the rest of my night consisted of.

The Highlights:

-Googling for skunk oil removal remedies that could be procured from either a corner store, 24h drug store or other retailer open at about 10:00pm
-Wrestling with a big, wet, hairy, upset dog in the bathtub, trying to apply vinegar and baking soda to her chest and face
-Realizing vinegar doesn’t work on skunk oil worth a damn
-Sending Neil to the store for peroxide, more dish detergent, and douche (kinda bad for people – apparently good for removing skunk oil from animal faces, where you shouldn’t apply caustic solutions).
-Finding out that nobody who works the night-shift at Shoppers Drug Mart on 4th or Broadway a) knows what products the store carries, b) speaks English or c) cares.
-Applying a foamy mixture of peroxide, baking soda and dish soap to a dog who’s been bathed twice already and isn’t happy about it, and trying to keep her from shaking it all off for 10 minutes.

We finally gave up and got to bed around 1:00am – us in our bedroom with the door closed to protect it from the smell, the dog in her crate in the living room, the towels and clothes we used out on the deck.

This morning we were back at it at 6:00, tossing Neil’s clothes, yesterdays’ towels and anything else that got covered in skunk stank into the laundry or garbage, and scrubbing down the bathroom. Thankfully, it seems like we’ve gotten most of the offending odors out of the house – though I think I need a trusted friend to come by and let me know if it does smell in here or not.

The poor dog seems to be mostly ok. Neil was unable to get the douche solution for the dog’s face, so her wee head still smells a little – but other than her dry fur (stripped of all its natural oils, along with the skunk oil) and her wounded pride, she is recovering just fine out on the deck in the sunshine with a peanut-butter kong. I’m going to go out and try to procure some douche concentrate today to soak her face with, and hopefully that’ll take care of the last of the smell and we can let her back in the house, and get on with life, skunk-free.

I *told* Neil I didn’t think a walk last night was a good idea. I think after all that, he agrees.

Effed Up

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Further Proof that HR people (or whoever’s doing the job posting these days) don’t have a damn clue:

I’m checking out what I missed on various job sites in the past few days, and discovered something pretty odd. There’s one site that lists jobs under “Internship,” “Entry-Level,” “Mid to Senior-Level,” and “Executive.”

I like checking all of the categories, just to see what’s out there, and notice that every single job in the “Entry Level” category is asking for a degree, plus 3-5 or 4-6 years of directly related experience. Seriously?

Could someone who actually has a clue please enlighten me on what exactly is entry level about someone who’s three or four years post-collegiate? More specifically, someone who’s been working all those years, as opposed to taking a very extended Gap year?

Job Posters: Do y’all need someone with a damn degree in Communication to help figure out the definition of “Entry” so you can perhaps post your jobs in relevant places? Because currently, the medium is sending the message that you don’t make much sense.

Money Money Money

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While there haven’t been any other exciting or noteworthy developments on the wedding planning front (not that I could share much anyway, or I’ll give away the whole evening to guests who may read this), I did have my first encounter with the “Wedding Machine” the other day.

Wedding Machine? It’s the phenomenon that dictates anything to do with weddings immediately inspires the vendor to pull out a folding chair, whack you in the shins with it, then bend you over the back of the chair and reach their fist as far up your hindquarters as they can in search of vital organs. Or at least that’s how you feel when they present you with a quote for their services.

In search of some music for the evening, we contacted one such vendor, mostly out of curiosity to see what his rates may be. You see, having a wedding in Tofino means that nine times out of ten, we’re going to be paying our vendors to travel from somewhere that isn’t our venue. The photographers are from Vancouver, the officiant is from Ucluelet, and some rentals are going to be coming from the Lower Mainland. Travel and shipping costs are built into our budget.

And while we have no qualms about providing for our vendors, there’s certainly a point where their requested compensation starts to look like one of those ridiculous diva-level backstage riders from the smoking gun.

This particular performer requested the following:

1. Minimum booking charge of $500 or 4 hours performance at $520
2. Mileage and ferry costs to/from the venue
3. A meal during the event
4. Overnight Accommodation

Those were pretty reasonable – what really got me was when he added:

5. Per-diem for all meals during travel to and from the venue
6. $25/h for 10 hours of travel to and from the venue (his “normal rate” for travel anywhere past West Van or Langley)

Seriously. Seriously? SERIOUSLY!

I respect that the guy’s gotta eat, and a drive to the far west coast probably isn’t his idea of a good time, considering the rate he wanted for doing it. But while I’m sure he’s talented, he’s not any sort of groundbreaking musician. He’s a wedding singer. That’s ALL he does. He does not do weddings in addition to gigging other venues and events, he doesn’t advertise any sort of individual composition or instruction ventures. He sings cover tunes at weddings and corporate events. And has a partnership with a DJ service to offer both live and canned music. And has clearly never entertained the notion of packing an effing sandwich!

The ONLY thing he’s being compensated for, at his $25/hour, is he’ll be driving instead of sleeping in until 3:00pm, then writing love songs for Drew Barrymore so he can sing to her on a plane while Billy Idol distracts her big beefy jerk of a fiance… wait, no… I don’t think he does that either.

In any case, when I called him out for his exorbitant demands, he simply said “fine, good luck finding someone else” and left it at that.

Dude, if you didn’t want to travel, just say so. Don’t assume I’m stupid enough to cop to your particular brand of crazy simply because I’m a bride to be.

And incidentally, we did find someone else, who happens to be an enthusiastic, recognized and well-trained musician/composer who happens to accept weddings in addition to other regular gigs, and like the rest of our vendors is as far from a Diva as one can get, and really just wants to offer any advice and expertise in his realm that he can in order to make our event the best it can be.

Also, because he’s making perfectly reasonable demands in terms of travel & logistics, we can afford to hire him, and a few of his bandmates as well – making our musical experience even better than we’d initially planned for!

Take that wedding singer. I hope you’re enjoying hitting the snooze button next March 29th.

My So-Called Life

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Our true friends are those who are with us when the good things happen. They cheer us on and are pleased by our triumphs. False friends only appear at difficult times, with their sad, supportive faces, when, in fact, our suffering is serving to console them for their miserable lives.
~Paulo Coelho

It’s no secret to those who know me and care to ask that the whole job-hunt has me pretty miserable these days. I could say that I’m trying to harness the power of positive thinking and all that jazz, but in reality there are as many days that end with tears as those that end with smiles or just exhausted ambivalence.

Yet I still don’t feel compelled to blog about it.

About a year ago, you could hardly stop me from pouring out my misery online at being single and the horrible injustices I was suffering while attempting to find someone suitable to date. Or, if not suitable, at least not wanting to make me scoop my brains out with a spork to forget the encounter.

Then I found someone – and things were really steadily going up in my life. Great man, great job, great dog, great home. That lasted about a year – you’d think that wouldn’t be long enough to erase the cynicism, vitriol and spite in my wee, black heart when one of those ceased to exist in my world.

You’d be right. And still, I felt no compulsion to blog about it.

And I didn’t really understand why. Until now.

I attempted to throw a party last weekend. For all intents and purposes, most things about my social circle and the invite were the same. Early reports indicated it would be an even bigger success, since the location was far more desirable to potential party-goers. Last year, 90% of the people who RSVP’d “Yes” attended, plus a motley assortment of extras. This year, barely half the confirmed attendees bothered showing up.

What’s different?

This year I’m not nearly as interesting.

A year ago I was a dating blogging sensation, who had just entered into a relationship with a man who had his own fair share of scandal.

This year? We’re just another set of yuppies. For the most part, fortunate and exceedingly happy ones.

I could fill pages and pages with cutting testimony of my job-hunt frustrations and foibles.

But underneath it all lies a desire to keep these personal feelings for myself and those who have more than an idle curiosity about them.

I’d rather live quieter, knowing who my true friends are.

I’d rather be happy, than interesting.

Head, meet Desk

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I am slowly realizing why I’m not getting any bites on the job front.

I am kindof an idiot.

I believe I’ve made some sort of formatting or spelling mistake on every. single. application I’ve sent out.

In a list, I’ve used a dash, then colons (I should’ve gone with one or the other). I’ve completely misquoted the job title (specialist instead of manager). I’ve forgotten an attachment. I’ve misspelled all sorts of words – especially the first few days of using Open Office, before I realized I had to install a dictionary.

In short: I suck.

I can not proof anything on a screen to save my life. You would think this means I’d start printing out cover letters and proofing them on paper before sending – but that seems like such a waste of paper.

My resume is obviously ok, but any cover letter or email I’ve sent is guaranteed to have a tiny glitch in it somewhere. It’s usually only one (sometimes two), but I’m assuming this is the death knell in my chances for all these jobs whose descriptions ask for “attention to detail” and “impeccable writing skills.”

Some days I swear I’m just destined to fail at life.

Dear Blogland

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I could certainly use a bit of a pick-me-up today.

So I ask you, blogiverse, to indulge me in my wee pity party, while I present to you a list of things that suck today:

I am still jobless. Not only that, but of the dozen or so applications I’ve sent out, I’ve received exactly one phone interview (which is as far as that candidate experience went). Otherwise, no responses at all. In addition to that, at least two of the jobs I applied for were re-posted within a week of sending my application. It’s not like I wasn’t qualified, and didn’t demonstrate that in my resume or cover letter, so it’s pretty sucky to realize I don’t even merit a phone call.

And while I would normally console myself with the procurement of something pretty or shiny (say what you will about filling personal voids with material goods), the EI gods who determined that unemployed workers in BC are entitled to 55% of their earnings, up to a maximum of [insert figure that launches one into abject poverty here], have convinced me I’d rather have groceries and electricity than trinkets.

The condo we purchased, waaaaaaaay back in May 2006, that was supposed to complete in July 2007 has been pushed back. The official word from the Realtor representing the developers is that they “hope to have everyone in by December.” That basically negates the awesome mortgage pre-approval interest rates we secured for a July closing (rates right now are at least 0.2% higher than what we got – but our rates are only good for 120 days from approval) and means we get to spend an extra 6 months pouring rent money into someone else’s pocket.

I make a shitty, shitty housewife. Being at home all the time means I go stir-crazy, and also lose all concept of space and time. I rarely know what day it is, and have no idea where time goes when it passes. All I know is that all of those “things” I figured would be so easy to get done around the house, still aren’t.

There are doggy-hair tumbleweeds blowing around everywhere, there is always laundry to do, the bathrooms are shamefully filthy (think college aged male bathroom levels of icky), the kitchen sink is always full of dishes – especially today, since I overcooked the basmati rice last night and made quite a dog’s breakfast of the aloo gobi (nothing says “good morning” like a pot full of tepid water and leftover stuck-on curry bits).

Obviously none of the aforementioned are terribly tragic compared to any number of things going on in the rest of the world, but they’re certainly harshing my buzz. And I still definitely feel entitled to a bit of a mope about my situation.

So blogosphere – I implore you – give me something to smile about!

Tell me something awesome that’s going on in your world. Give me an example of the best opening for a cover letter you’ve ever seen. Leave a comment with anything funny or smile-inducing (I have tried both Knut and the hand-holding Otters – I need something stronger).

And hopefully in a day or two I’ll return to tell you something that doesn’t suck.

Paralyzer

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Two loaves of homemade whole wheat bread (no, I don’t own a breadmaker).
One batch of brownies.
Two loaves of banana bread.
Two sparkling bathrooms.
One 90-minutes-of-prep/cooking Moroccan feast for two.
Countless loads of laundry.
Hours of happy dog walks.

Three-point-seven-five days of unemployment.

Five job openings sitting in open browser tabs, waiting for me to apply to them.

And I’m stuck.

I look at my resume and hate every line. I look over the umpteen cover letter formats and styles I use, and see everything but inspiration.

May I introduce to you my friends Rock and Hard-Place?

I am mostly miserable and hate being at home all day. But I also loathe submitting applcations for jobs.

I certainly don’t mind networking, have a sick love for interviewing, and can generally write circles around things – except when it comes to my own damn resumé. But then, my best work comes out when I’m excited about the subject matter. And instead of excited, I’m mostly annoyed, and more than a little intimidated.

I WILL NOT BE CONFINED TO TWO MEASLY PAGES!

Although I suppose I should save that particular rant for after I manage to get a single satisfying sentence down on paper.

So here I sit. Trying to devise things to do that are both satisfying, and a good way to procrastinate.

Baking and cleaning have, thus far, been completely unsatisfying. (I imagine that anything but some success in the job-hunt will have much the same result.)

But then, so has the application process.

And I seem to be fresh out of mojo.

Trip recap

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I suppose I said I’d share the details of the trip, and fast-fading as they are, now is as good a time as any.

However I am still tired from the jetlag, further compounded by some various and sundry other illnesses that I picked up on the plane. So a brief summary will have to suffice. (Oh, and the pictures are all here.)

Stuff that was done in Oxford:

  • Three separate walking tours of Oxford, highlighting the history of the town and colleges that make up the university.
  • The Oxford Story
  • Drinks at the Eagle and Child (and various and sundry other pubs).
  • The Oxford Castle
  • Day Trip to Henley on Thames
  • The Hold Steady & Guests at the Zodiac
  • Awesome Indian (Aziz) and Thai (Thai Orchid) dinners

    • Stuff that was done in London:

  • Exploring of Picadilly Circus & the Trocadero
  • Drinks in Lecster Square with Neil’s 2nd & 3rd cousins
  • The Tower of London
  • Tate Modern
  • Borough Market
  • Milennium Bridge
  • Flypasts (looked, didn’t stop or pay to enter) at Tower Bridge, St. Paul’s, London Eye, Parliament Buildings, Buckingham Palace
  • Shopping on Oxford Street, at Selfridges and Harrods
  • Wander through Hyde Park and past the Princess Diana Memorial fountain
  • Theatre in the West End (Stomp)
  • Dinner at Sarastro – kitschy but good!

    • Impressions of Oxford
    Spending time there, it’s a beautiful town with incredible architecture and history. The longer I stayed though, the more my jealousy grew. Amazing scholars have been gracing those hallowed halls for centuries, producing some of the finest writing, and most significant math, science and economic breakthroughs in the history of higher learning. Watching the students, it seemed to be everything I wanted my university experience to be, but never was. I want a do-over. I wish I had the grades and finances to pursue a graduate program there.

    Perhaps it’s the academic intimidation factor (most college grounds aren’t open to non-students/faculty, and have large iron/wooden gates and signs to tell you so), but I felt very much like an uneasy tourist there. I actually found that the entire town had a very “fuck you” feel about it. Most people were oblivious, and those I encountered in customer service were ambivalent at best. I distinctly understood why Canadians are perceived as so friendly. Not that anyone was unfriendly – but having to interact with us, offer assistance, or (heaven forbid) do their job (even the cashiers at Sainsbury’s and Boots) came across as a huge chore. Everyone just came across as very… sour.

    Impressions of London
    The insistent and haphazard mix of centuries old buildings with ultramodern architecture was disconcerting to say the least.

    Charing Cross Road is now devoid of traditional pubs, with a slew of US and UK-but-modeled-after-US franchises, like TGI Friday’s, O’neil’s, and some now-forgotten but ubiquitous steakhouse. The iconic Spirit of the West song has now been ruined for me.

    Everyone I’ve spoken to who’s been to London in the past 6 years has said that “wow, the scaffolding over St. Paul’s was already up when I was there…” Not exactly a model of restoration efficiency or effectiveness.

    The one tourist thing we paid for was the Tower of London. The Yeoman Warden (Beefeater) tour was really entertaining, and while I couldn’t bring myself to believe that the jewels in the Crown Jewels were the real ones (having heard too many times that the ones on display are fakes), the artisanship that went into creating those pieces is still extraordinary.

    The London Tube is the least accessible public system I’ve ever encountered. Stairs everywhere – very few escalators and lifts, and even those that do exist only go to street level, and not between lines in a station. Example: you can get from a far underground tube station up to street level, but to change lines, you’ll still need to hike 3 flights of stairs up and over tracks to the other platforms. Highly inconvenient for those who are burdened by wheelchairs, strollers or (like ourselves) luggage.

    With the notable differences of modernization and obvious indicators to which trains are on which lines (for the slow and jetlagged, like myself), and the fact that the London Tube had significant service problems while we were there, it’s very similar to the Seoul subway system. I think that for the relative size and age of the city, Vancouver is doing just fine in terms of providing accessible, relevant and cost-appropriate transit systems. What we need now are longer trains and more frequent (and further reaching) service. Also, we need turnstiles and RFID chip payment cards. Seriously. Whoever decided against those is a first-class idiot as far as I’m concerned.

    Another tidbit in terms of being a “world-class city” – I didn’t find any shopping in London or Oxford that I couldn’t have reasonably done at home (different store of course, but essentially the same merchandise is available). I did pick up a few things at H&M and Dorothy Perkins, but again comparing the size of the cities, Holt Renfrew and Robson Street offer exactly the same shopping opportunities as Selfridges and Oxford Street. Except popular London fashion is about 6 months ahead of what’s being worn in Vancouver, and (as everything except beer is in london) about twice as expensive.

    Even though we had a great time chatting with both Neil’s colleagues in Oxford and family in London (proving certainly that the Britons can be great and friendly people), and that we were treated to a fantastically beautiful Saturday during which to wander the banks of the Thames, I never felt welcome in England. As a tourist I was merely an entity to be tolerated. The history, the beauty, the significance of the Empire and its role in the shaping of the world seems entirely wasted on the English, who would rather sneer at those of us who come to admire it, and adop0t an unexplainably sour disposition the rest of the time.

    Perhaps after another 600 years of history and tourists, Vancouverites will seem just as bitter and jaded, but I certainly hope not.

    Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t expect too much from a people who have collectively managed to completely bastardize, assault, and otherwise ruin the noble sandwich.

    Violated!

    Posted on by

    I was about to leave the house this morning, when my home phone rang. It rarely does this (since the only folks who have it are telemarketers), and even more rare is it ringing in the morning.

    So I answered.

    On the other end of the line was a gentelman from my bank, Coast Capital Savings, letting me know that my debit card has been cancelled, since it was used at a confirmed card skimming location. I got the number for my new card over the phone so I can continue to use online banking, and it was suggested that I take a look at my bank records for the past 30 days to ensure nothing out of the ordinary had gone on.

    I wasn’t terribly worried about the situation – I’d just downloaded my January transactions and reviewed them at the end of the month anyway, so I knew they were fine.

    But Lo! In the last two days, someone’s certainly been taking some far-reaching liberties with my account. The last transaction I made was to deposit a cheque on Saturday afternoon. Two hours later, a $500 withdrawl was made (my daily cash limit), followed immediately by a $2000 “deposit” (likely an empty envelope). Sunday another $500 was withdrawn, and this morning my card was cancelled.

    At first I thought maybe my card number was skimmed at some shady corner store I’d stopped in at some point on my travels. But looking at the transaction pattern, I’m significantly more creeped out.

    Because my financial institution is a Credit Union (instead of a bank), I’m able to use the services of any BC Credit Union ATM. The closest ATM to my home isn’t a Coast Capital machine, but it is a credit union nonetheless, so I use it most often – and Saturday afternoon was no exception.

    Looking at my transaction records, the fraud was committed at the EXACT SAME BRANCH I’d just deposited that cheque at a mere 2 hours earlier. Coincidence? I’m not so sure. I’m thinking back to that night – I used my card in the outdoor card-reader to open the door. I put my card in the machine. I entered my pin. I don’t remember if there was anyone else in the bank, but I don’t think there was.

    Because the investigation is ongoing, the fraud protection people weren’t able to tell me which location my card was skimmed at – but I’ve used my card MULTIPLE times at all of the places I’ve got in my bank statement in the past 30 days, and that bank machine is no exception.

    So there’s your lesson kids. Cover your PIN, no matter where you are or how safe things seem. The bank people tell me that compared to the amount of cardholders and transactions that take place each day, card scams are generally pretty rare, but clearly they do happen!

    Grinchified

    Posted on by

    I’ll admit, I haven’t exactly been feeling the Christmas Spirit the past little while.

    Yes, we have the tree, and lights, and carols and parties galore! Not to mention, we’re young, in love, and engaged! Despite all that, things just haven’t been… cheery.

    This morning over our usual Coffee and Breakfast TV in Bed, Neil and I figured out why: We’ve been trying to celebrate with people who are staunchly resisting celebration.

    Now I know misery loves company and all that – you only need to glance toward any passel of angsty teenagers to figure that one out – but when did all these people I know turn into such… complainers and parade-rainer-on-ers?

    Apparently unlike a lot of the people I’ve encountered of late, I’m pretty sure I’m managing to adhere to the “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all” school of interpersonal relations.

    Unfortunately, after the week I’ve had, that mantra’s left me feeling mostly silent – because I refuse to let my good mood be dragged down and squelched by those who’d rather by cynical than celebratory.

    Neil and I both spent FAR too many years of our lives with people whose default reaction to everything was negativity and suckitude.

    NO MORE!

    The present we’re giving to ourselves this year? Spending time only with those who can muster up a smile and a happy holidays without following it up with a complaint or criticism or contradiction of some sort.

    As far as this (obviously somewhat hypocritical) little rant? It’s the official end of my own personal Grinchitude.

    And my Christmas wish to everyone else? That you take some time to realize how very blessed you are in your own lives, and end your campaigns of crankiness as well!

    Brr

    Posted on by

    Snow awesomeness: skiing & boarding! Snowball fights! Snow days from work!

    Snow not-so-awesomeness: the cold! The bad drivers! The endless slushy muck! did I mention the cold?!?

    Holy hell Batman, there’s a reason I don’t live in Toronto, or Edmonton, or Montreal, or Juneau.

    This perpetual blizzardiness can just feel free to fuck right off now.

    Bring back my tepid drizzle!