WorldWideWaterCooler

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.

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.

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:

Stuff that was done in London:

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.

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!

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!

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!

I’ve totally backdated this entry to yesterday, when I meant to post it, except my not-so-hot hosting company took the entire server offline to backup a failing drive. I definitely expended more energy fretting about my lack of blogging ability than it takes to write an entry anyway, so I don’t think I should be disqualified!

When I emailed the hosting company to let them know I was pretty pissed that there would be an hours long outage to backup a drive, their response was “Unfortunately hardware failures are a fact of life. They’re inevitable. We don’t plan for them, but they do happen.”

Um… if your only business is maintaining hardware to hold onto people’s data, and hardware failures are inevitable and a fact of life, WHY ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH IS THERE NO PLAN?

Eighteen hours later, my site is up and running. Hoo-frickin-ray.

Anyone know of a good host that has some concept of service-appropriate backups? Because I’m definitely looking.

In the meantime, here’s a pretty picture:

I was all ready to share a great “Snow Day” video of me and the dog in the park.

Unfortunately for you, I got sick of waiting for both Google Video and YouTube to stop being assholes.

That didn’t happen before I ran out of patience, so no video for you.

Hope you enjoyed the snow anyway.

One of the culinary frontiers I hadn’t explored until today was shellfish. I don’t mean eating (I’m an old pro at that one), I mean preparing in my own kitchen.

I doubt I would’ve made it there, had I not possessed an excess of wine in the fridge that needed to be cooked with.

(Wine that went off with surprising regularity in our slightly-too-hot apartment in the pre-wine-fridge days.)

The man loves mussels, I’m pretty fond of them, and allrecipes.com said they were fantastically simple. So why not?

Well the recipe was right, they were DEAD easy. Dead, as in, I killed 1/3 of them by leaving them in the bag too long. Did you know mussels need to breathe? Yah. I didn’t either. In fact, there was a whole bunch of stuff I didn’t know about cleaning mussels.

No matter. It was all done in fairly short order, and the recipe we used was easy and tasty.

Unfortunately, the mussels were just a bit too… real.

The flesh of these fresh sea-treats was huge & meaty. Much more so than from any restaurant I’ve had them at. And while I usually enjoy mussels, the texture of these ones turned me off a little.

Ok, a lot.

The rule has generally been that I prefer food I’ve made in my own kitchen. It’s somewhat disappointing to form a new relationship with an ingredient, only to find out that the ingredient is “not that into you.”

Have I just been subjected to shitty mussels all these years? Did I inadvertently happen to get some juiced up “kitsilano meathead” mussels - all bulk and no substance? Could I have done something differently?

In any case, I’ll probably try shellfish again someday (especially if you, gentle readers, leave some tips or advice for me), but not until I’ve soothed my poor, brokenhearted, disappointed palate with some tea and girlguide cookies.

I want to give you a good car-life, I really, really do!

I got you inspected before buying you a little over a year ago, and other than that seemingly small pulley issue that the dealership said they’d fixed, you checked out A-ok.

Well today marked the day I paid more in repairs for you, in only 18 months, than I paid for you!

That pulley cost over $500 to finally fix properly.

But I suppose it wasn’t soon enough for you, because you rebelled with your broken crankshaft. It’s ok, I didn’t need that $900 at Christmastime anyway.

So I was good to you. I spend about $1500 more on oil changes, filter changes, tune-ups, spark plugs, a new battery, radiator, transmission and brake fluid flushes.

I even went and got you fixed up right away when that idiot backed into you.

And this is how you repay me?

A NINETEEN-HUNDRED DOLLAR TRANSMISSION REBUILD?

Fuck you car.

This is it. Anything else goes wrong, I’m pushing you off a damn cliff into the ocean.

Jonathan posted on Metroblogging Vancouver yesterday regarding his opinion on having a dog in an apartment building.

Vancouver’s no-pets-in-the-building policy is probably a good thing. If people want a dog, they should at least have a house with a yard or public park across the street.

It’s an opinion I hear a lot from people who feel “sorry” for my dog, because she lives in an apartment.

That’s bullshit.

I’ve lived in both apartments and houses with dogs of all sizes, and I can say that it absolutely DOES NOT MATTER what kind of home you inhabit with a dog, you have to exercise them. Putting a dog out in the yard does not guarantee they’re exercising.

I’d actually argue that dogs who live in homes with yards don’t get as much exercise as they should. I know that personally I was FAR more likely to just let the dog out the back door to do its business rather than actually go play outside with it, or take it for a walk around the neighbourhood or to the park every day as I do now.

And I can’t vouch for Mt. Pleasant, but there are a LOT of parks in areas of Vancouver that I’m familiar with. No, there isn’t one immediately across the street from me. But there is one across the street and two blocks west, one a block behind me, and another park across the street from that. Every neighbourhood I’ve explored has at least a public grassy patch every 5 blocks or so. It’s probably better for the dog, and the owner, to have to walk an extra block or two to get to it.

My dog’s trainer actually recommends AGAINST yards for dogs. Sure, a yard is great if you go out there with the animal, but putting them outside alone is a horrible idea. That’s where the poor dog is antaganized by any amount of neighbourhood cats and wildlife, and feels he/she must defend the yard as part of his/her territory. If a person is going to be a good dog owner, it doesn’t matter if the grassy patch is attached to the house or a 6 block hike away - the person must accompany the dog.

Having a dog is far more like having a toddler than having an animal. They’re about as smart as a 3-year old, and need stimulation and interaction in order to flourish and not become destructive and start yelling (barking) and pooping in corners just for the hell of it. The day someone agrees that it’s cruel to have a child in an apartment because they don’t have a yard to play in is the day I’ll agree with the same argument for dogs.

I think his other points are relevant - non-dog people have just as much right to live in a non-dog building as dog-people do to live in a dog-friendly building. I wouldn’t move into a condo complex knowing that strata bylaws state “no dogs” if I wanted a dog to be in my future. If it were that important to me, I’d be putting “dog-friendly” on my list of must-haves right next to 2 full bathrooms and garburator. I’m not about to be a strata-council rabble-rouser to try and bring dogs where none have gone before. People have as much right to live dog-free as those who live in “adult only” complexes have to live child-free.

But the type of house someone lives in is NOT a valid qualifier to determine whether or not they’re a good dog owner (or parent), and is not a valid argument for banning dogs from apartment buildings.

Were I to be a Strata Council renegate, I’d far rather get on the council at the new place, and try to put in a clause that bans judgemental ignorami (not that Jonathan’s necessarily one - I don’t know him from Adam - he just planted the seed to ignite my wrath) from living there.

Much to my surprise, I received a call from friendly Kurt at the Home Depot on Sunday afternoon (a customer service call on a Sunday!).

I calmly and rationally explained my experience, and told Kurt my major disappointment was in the fact that they couldn’t do a straight exchange for the item, requiring me to a) subject myself to further inconvenience with the shipping company and b) wait 3-4 weeks to actually receive my (hopefully undamaged) product.

Kurt listened politely and we chatted and settled a few things.

1. The shipping company (contracted by UPS) is supposed to offer everyone a 30 minute delivery window up until 7:00pm Monday-Friday. Not mentioning that and then showing up over an hour late is completely unacceptable. Home Depot just dumped Purolator for similar issues, and will be launching a formal complaint with UPS because of this.

2. My feedback on their return policy has been recorded and will be passed on, for whatever that’s worth. They are currently working on an inventory interface that will allow homedepot.ca orders to be facilitated through local stores, but they’re not there yet. Fair enough. Because of my feedback and situation, Kurt assured me that though it’s not their policy at this time, they’ll ensure my exchange is quick and easy (and not requiring multiple shipments) or facilitate the pickup and issue me a credit for the order.

3. As an additional good faith measure by Home Depot, I have also been offered 10% off my next order online up to $100. When all I was expecting was for someone to hear and acknowledge my complaint, and to fix the situation, the additional offer to incent me to shop again at homedepot.ca (and hopefully have a better experience) was unexpected, welcome, and really smart on their end.

And how did I manage to complain my way into this? I had a valid issue, I politely and immediately asked the lowest rung on the call centre ladder to either speak to someone, or have them call me back as soon as possible about my issue, and I stuck to the facts, rather than the emotion behind my the delay in having my precious yuppy wine fridge (because even I wouldn’t take me seriously if I were whining about that). There’s no point in trying to deal with the person who answers the phone, and sometimes the person with the decision making power to help you isn’t available right away. The more polite you are in trying to get to the right person, the faster that usually happens, and the more amenable they usually are to talking with you.

So far so good Home Depot. You’re nearly forgiven. We’ll see how this all plays out and I’ll update again with the final resolution.

After our adventures in Bordeaux buying, the man and I decided to buy a wine fridge after all. Hooray!

Except, not so much.

We ordered online from the Home Despot (yes, despot), and hoped our fridge would arrive in fairly short order. Worst decision ever.

After a couple days, I received an email that my order had shipped. I tried to track it online, but no dice. I called the Home Depot to ask why it wasn’t working, when I was informed that it was being shipped by a “Common Carrier” and couldn’t be tracked online. Could I have the name or contact information of the carrier? Of course not. Despite multiple requests.

The only thing I was ever told was that the carrier (who would insist on remaining nameless) would contact me 24-48 hours before delivery to arrange a time to receive the order. Fine then.

I received a very cordial call from the freight company and set up a delivery time. Not a convenient one, but a time nonetheless. Between 11am and 1pm on Friday. So I went into work early, and packed myself up to get home by 11am to work from home and wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

Until 2:09pm.

That’s when I got a faint knock on the door. The delivery driver was there, saying my buzzer didn’t work. Too bad he tried the wrong buzzer entirely, even though the correct number was written on the delivery slip. No matter, the fridge is here!

Fridge is unloaded, delivery guy leaves, I rip open the packaging like a kid on Christmas!

And find…. the dent.

A huge unsightly gash in the side of my pristine fridge!

So I call the Home Depot, which is where they had a chance to make things right, and instead did absolutely everything wrong.

I’m instructed to keep the original packaging (have you seen how much stuff comes packaged with a fridge? I’m going to have to sleep with the stuff!) and the carrier will be instructed to contact me to set up a time to pick up the busted up appliance. There goes another few hours off work.

But instead of sending another fridge to a valuable customer in good faith to exchange the units, the Home Despot insists on waiting for the broken unit to arrive back in their Burlington ON warehouse (a mere 4500 kms away) before sending the replacememt back across the country to me.

No, there is apparently no way around this. I can’t work with a local store to make a swap, and there’s no way they’ll send a whole extra unit (I mean, I’m sure having that extra $250 out of the warehouse makes a HUGE dent in their bottom line, right?) as a replacement at the same time as the pickup.

I replied that I would arrange a time for them to pick up the fridge and would like them to promptly cancel my order. It took two weeks to get the original fridge, I’ll be damned if I’m going to take yet ANOTHER day off on top of the return pick-up and wait about four weeks to receive an appliance I can get at innumerable other places.

I also asked for a supervisor or customer service person of some sort to contact me to discuss the issue, since I find it all pretty ridiculous, and I’m hoping that someone other than their friendly but ultimately useless call centre monkeys can actually find a reasonable solution to the issue.

Considering the speed and concern with which my issues about the neverending bathroom reno were addressed (read: none) I don’t have high hopes.

Until then, no more Home Despot for me. I’ll pay more and shop around elsewhere if it means avoiding supporting such terrible practices.

In the meantime, I think I’ll crack open one of the bottles of currently un-refrigerated wine, and weep.

I do believe I’m getting sick.

I have perpetually dry eyes, a cough, exhaustion, sniffles - I figured it was just a matter of time.

Problem is, I haven’t had the time to slow down enough to just get sick! I was really feeling ill on Friday, had a busy weekend, and was a mess on Monday.

I figured Tuesday or Wednesday morning I’d be down for the count.

But nooooooooo.

So far, I still feel just fuzzy and off enough to be annoyed, but not actually sick.

Anyone have any ideas of what I can do to fully bring on some sort of plague, complete with raw, runny nose, body aches, and maybe a bronchial rattle?

I figure the sooner I get sick, the sooner I can hurry up and feel better.

Because this cold and flu season purgatory really sucks.

Scene: Morning in the Watkiss/Wiederick household.

The boy has just made coffee and delivered it to the girl, who has turned on the morning news and thrown some sort of squeaking, slobbery something across the room for the umpteenth time to avoid a storm of morningdogbreath kisses.

The coffee has led to cuddling, which has led to canoodling, which has led to… well… let’s keep this one PG for the kids out there.

Suddenly, it happens.

CHAOS ERUPTS!

That goddamn Mini Wheats commercial is on AGAIN!

Suddenly both humans in the room propel themselves violently into action in a frantic search for the remote control!

The suddenly frightened dog whines and cowers behind the door.

SUCCESS!

Remote found!

Commercial Muted!

Unfortunately not before that goddamned theme song is firmly stuck in the girl’s head for the rest of the day.

Miiiiiiiiii Niiiiiiiii FUCK FUCK FUCK.