"Everyone was just signing Pam's shirt, so I hauled up my shirt and was like, "sign me!""

Windows Photo Printing Wizard is the bane of my existence. I just want to print some clip art, for the library. Simple, no? Print, and it prints it in actual size.

NO!

Instead, I can only print images through PPW, and it insists on autocropping and sizing the images, so most of them are unusable. Please excuse me while I beat the computer into small shreds of cheap plastic and silicon.

Okay, just had to get that one out. I am taking a break from library work to write this, because I can't take any more of trying to format the blessed clip art so that it will print.

AHAHAHAHHA! I HAVE TRIUMPHED! I opened the pictures with Explorer, and printed from that screen. *dances madly*

I just, would prefer to not have to go into pitched battle with my computer every time I sit down to use it. You know? I'm probably having a harder time than needful since I'm on a public (read- crippled) computer, I'm tired, and I'm not used to Windows, so I don't know the tricks. Still...

Anyhow, this weekend was the Public High School Graduation. Three people from McDonald's graduated, and I've been reminded once again how different that lifestyle is. The title was Kayla's explanation as to why she has permanent marker all over her abdomen. Hmmmmm. Craig, (also a grad) who came to work despite being "sick," (headache, nauseous, pale, heavy drinking the night before) accused her of still being drunk, but she said she was just hung over. Jonathan, who is the other grad, hasn't checked in to work yet. Might I point out that all of these people are still underage? The quality of parties around here doesn't surprise me anymore, but it still seems rather strange. I guess getting drunk just doesn't hold that much appeal for me. :D

I mean, I have enough trouble keeping my temper under wraps normally, I don't want to forfeit what little control I have. I'm honestly a little scared of what I might do. Anyhow! Thankfully I haven't had to deal with any really nasty people at work yet. I've heard stories of nasty people just before I came on, or after I left, but I haven't had to deal with them personally, which is good. I think I'd get mad right back at them, or dig my fingernails into my arm in an attempt to not get mad at them, since telling the customers what you think of their intelligence, reading and counting skills is not a good idea. And I get either violent or really articulate when I'm mad, so, not a good idea to get mad.

Indeed, the closest I came to that reaction was when one of the popular highschool seniors came in with a complaint the other day. The kind of boy ,~sorry~, man, common around here, who has a carefully unshaven moustache and a trucker's hat permanently attached to the back of his head. They drive around in ford mustangs and cars of that ilk, which they did not pay for. They are too cool to study, think math is for chumps and English is a waste of time, (which is obvious in their communication skills) and they are going to go on to Fort Mac when they graduate. As a group, they've been partying hard since about age 14, and they, to a man, seem to think that they are God's gift to women. They seem to have a different girl in the front seat of their cars every time they come through the drive-thru. About five ten, dirty blond hair, and jeans. I mean, seriously, it's like a group of clones was introduced into the hospital 18 years ago, and no one noticed.

ANYHOW; one of this group came through the drive-thru, according to tradition adding most of his order once he was at the window. So we parked the order, and told him we'd bring it out once it was done. This I did, running out his order when it was up. So far, so good. I commence stuffing orders into bags for the window (we were busy). But then, I look around, and to my complete absence of joy, I see this guy standing there with his receipt and and his bag.
*thinks* darn you, what do you want.
*says* "Sorry, can I help you?"
The guy goes, "You charged me for 9 chicken sauce, but I only got 8."

I should point out that chicken sauce is 18 cents a packet. And I checked in his order three minutes ago, I know what I charged him for, and it was 8 packets. At this juncture, what I should do is apologize, and hand over the demanded chicken sauce, preferably bowing and scraping in abject regret.

Instead, what I do is pull myself up to my full height, which, since I was hunched over, means an increase of about four inches, look him directly in the eye, and in my best "I do not tolerate defiance" voice say, "I charged you for 8 packets." My body language, which stated rather clearly that I would dearly love to fling the basket of sweet-and-sour portions at his head most likely didn't hurt the effect either.

At this point, he pauses, actually looks at the receipt in his hand, turns red and slinks away. I continue my work, and then spend the next hour upbraiding myself in the back of my head for my knee-jerk temper.

*sigh*

Maybe you had to be there, but since I spend most of my time at work with my grin so firmly pasted on my face I'm practically leering at the customers, and I'm most often described as "quiet" and "sweet," I think the transformation to "I-will-eat-your-heart Medusa" was rather startling. But I don't think it hurt his loyalty to the double hamburger value pick meal, since he's been back many times since then. Of course, that PARTICULAR guy may not have returned. Like I said, I can't really tell that crowd apart. Ah well. :D

Work tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and then I have two blissful days off. I intend to sleep for 48 hours. :P

Looking for someone.

I heard Sarah Slean play this song at the Songwriter's Circle in Halifax in 2007, and it's been playing in the back of my head in snippets ever since.

I'm so glad that I waited...

It's so pretty. :D

"I will work harder."

Wow, the days are really just whirring by. What has happened since I last posted? Hmm...

First order of priority, which colours all the other news, is the fact that I successfully pulled off a 67 hour work-week. *pats self on back* Only.. seven more of those to go... :P It was good though. My nearing total lack of a "life" makes it relatively easy to spend most of my waking hours at work, since I'm not taking away from anything to do so. :D

I got to call Third World on Friday night/Saturday morning, which was super jolly. :D Given that it was after midnight when I called, and I had already worked an 8 hour McDay, I don't think it was the most intelligent conversation on my part, but it was lovely to hear her voice again. *grins*

Then Saturday night Fraulein and I watched How She Move after I got home in the evening. It was a very fun movie, and I think rather better than the other heartwarming-tale-of-a-dancer-who-struggles-to-escape-the-ghetto movies I've come across. The people reacted more realistically, the set-up was not really far-fetched, and the characters said believable things. Yeah, on the topic of "saying," there were definitely language issues. But in traditional fashion, I didn't really notice until I was repeating the dialogue in my head. "Hmmm, I shan't be repeating that one- or that line- or that line- nor that one either. Hmmmm..." Yes, it was fun.

Then on Sunday, we all watched Nancy Drew. The movie had been the catalyst for the movie watching of Fraulein and I the previous night, since, if they were going to have a special movie, we needed one too! *cough* And, since we weren't doing anything special, we watched it as well! I know, we're bad. :D It was a fun movie, though I personally wouldn't watch it again. The characters were somewhat- how shall we say- shallow. Best part? Nancy performs an emergency tracheotomy on an anaphylactic party-goer. (Am I serious? You'll have to see the movie to verify.) This was the first almost-grown-up movie for the small ones, due to the tense music and made-you-jump cuts, and they were very seriously excited about it. I overheard them talking about it the day after, debating whether Nancy was smarter, or the bad guys were. One was arguing that Nancy was smarter, since she escaped in the end, while her debating and dish washing partner was arguing that the bad guys were smarter, since she didn't know what was going on until they caught her.

My, but I have cute siblings.

Mommy and Gid came through McDonalds for ice cream on Monday, almost simultaneously as Fraulein and the Small Ones came through the Drive through for Ice Cream, (it was a hot day), and I was struck by that fact again. Gid's eyes are so huge, and he was dancing around a little in anticipation of his ice cream cone. Not CUTE!

Oh, and on Sunday I was feeling rather tired, so I decided to curl up with a cup of coffee and some cozy books. And what cozy books did I choose? The Wild Children, about displaced children in Russia during Stalin's ascent to power, and Animal Farm, by George Orwell.

...

Wild Children was good, and I'll probably read it again. Animal Farm, however, was whole nother kettle of fish. "It was nasty. I loved it." I really surprised myself with how much I loved it. It was just so balanced! And yes, I know that made no sense to anyone... Anyhow, I started to read 1984 last year, and I had to stop. I found it too hopeless and nasty. This time, however, I loved Mr. Orwell's work. *shrugs* What're ya gonna do?

Mommy and Daddy and Gid returned from St. John's, and a course of Gid's new chemo drug, on Sunday evening. They're going to be back for a week, Lord willing, which is extremely reassuring.

That's most of what has actually been happening lately, but I've been doing a lot of thinking, since both my jobs are not exactly highly intellectual. You engage anywhere from 50% to 5% of your brain, and the remainder goes into hiding. Anyhow, the main tidbit which the remainder of my brain has been chewing on has been- a wedding announcement. In fact, the wedding announcement of an OLD friend. How old? We played with caterpillars together when we were both three, in Germany. Our families hung out, and since we were only 6 months different in age, in the logic of our age group, it was decided that we were going to be married when we were really old, like 13 or something. Then, as we grew older, (try age 8) we both realized that more is required for marriage than close ages. Anyhow, I'd barely heard of him for years, though our parents remained in contact. Then our family receives a wedding invitation to this guy's upcoming wedding.

(Remember, he was only six months older than me.) So, my first thought, when we received the little slip of embossed plastic, ribbon and paper, was "it has begun." At college, several of the other students, at age 22, had talked about how most of their contemporaries are marrying off and/or having children (both with and without marriage as a prerequisite), so I heralded this guy as a front runner. An early front runner, I suppose, since he was only six months older than me.Wait a second; that really does seem awfully young, you know... Especially since the average age for marriage around here is, um, 26. There seems to be a discrepancy here. I'm sure that the others said that their cohorts were pairing off in the eyes of God and Man at age 22 and 24. 24 being late. But around here, 24 is positively early to get married. I mean, you're not even done with you Masters, and if it took you a while to decide on your major you might not even be done with your Bachelors.

Slowly, light dawns. Oh, this is a cultural thing. Hmm, so marriage age is cultural, even within Western civilization. What are some other things that are cultural? I muse over the fry vats. Well, alcohol, to drink or not to drink, is certainly cultural within Christendom. Around here, if you're a Christian, you just don't drink, while to some of my classmates from the mainland, staunch Christians all, underage drinking is "no big deal," so long as you don't overindulge. And whether you download music with payment or no is cultural, and whether your church has evening services, and whether you date or court, and whether you sit in close physical proximity to guys- or any other people- or not, and whether you hug your family often or not, and whether you read fantasy or not, and whether you call your parents by their first names... etc, etc, ad nausem.

So, this is where I tear out my hair, and cry, "Everything's cultural! There is no "one true way!" There is no truth!" Right? That's what one is supposed to do at this point in one's ruminations? Right?

Um, no. (Thank you, Professor Tingley and Alistair MacIntyre.) Repeat after me, class, "The jump to point three of post-modernism is insufficiently supported. Cultural differences are all different ways of striving for the same goals. Peace, harmony, fidelity... Because different cultures define modesty different ways does not mean that there is no such thing as modesty."

But, it does mean that you have to think about, um, EVERYTHING. You can't take anything for granted, since, after all, it's a cultural norm, not necessarily absolute truth. It may in all actuality be absolute truth, (thou shall not kill? Yep, that one doesn't need much thought), but you can't assume that the way things are done is the right way to do them, simply since that's the way they are done. You have to weigh them against the way things are done in other places, and most of all against the bible. (I'm not sure if that made any sense to anyone, or if I seem to be advocating heresy, but I'll try to explain it if needed.) Nice, a very interesting thing to think on. But it does make for a lot of thinking!

And the other thing the wedding announcement made me thing on- (oh yes, there is more. :D This is what happens when I don't get on the computer for almost three days. And don't try and follow my jump from the invitation to the following thoughts. You'll strain your brain.)- was one of the founding and motivating principles of our present society. I am referring to the truism;

You can do anything you set your mind to if you work hard enough.

This is, of course, a lie.

Strong words! What do I have to support this accusation? Well; what is necessary to accomplish something?

1. Money (everything needs some)
2. Time (again, every accomplishment needs some, even if it's just 30 seconds)
3. Opportunity (as in, I am not banned from said activity by law or ironclad custom.)
4. Inclination (I need to want it)
5. Ability (I need to be able to do it, by virtue of my God-given gifts and talents)

That seems to cover it. The problem is that all of these things are finite and limited. For example;

• I do not have either the time, money, inclination or ability to be a quantum physicist. I have the opportunity, but it is still something that I am not going to accomplish, so far as I can see.
• I may have the time, money, opportunity and ability to pierce my ears in the bathroom with a needle, or shave my head in the kitchen with a knife, but I do not have the inclination. That is something that I am most likely not going to accomplish.
• I may have the inclination, opportunity, money, and ability to write a novel this summer, but I do not have the time. Not a probable accomplishment.

Why is this important? Because, for most of us, the accomplishments our inclinations and even our abilities lure us towards outweigh the time and money we can invest in them. It's the eternal quandary; when we have money, we don't have time, and when we have time, we don't have money. It's one of the less fun things of becoming an adult; realizing that we can't do it all. It is fairly easy, in retrospect, to accept that those things that lie outside our abilities are most likely not going to be accomplished. Planing to win an Oscar for my acting abilities is not the best idea, given my stunning lack of acting abilities. :D Once you learn to look realistically at what you can and not do, you can line off a whole host of accomplishments with a minimum of suffering. (It is hard to learn to look, but that's just growing-up 101.)

However, it's harder when you look at your short list, and realize that there is still not enough time in life to fit it all in. Much less money. I want to travel, learn languages, learn, have a family, write, and manage to eat while I'm doing so. Eating, as we all know, requires money, which requires time, which cuts down on time for "fun" things. So, some things have to fall by the wayside, as certain accomplishments take precedent overs.

I think I've seen this in the lives of adults I admire. For heaven's sake, I've seen my own parents give up an awful lot for the sake of their family. They put that "accomplishment" over top of things like "a thriving career," "money," "travel and vacation time," even "social standing." I know for a fact that they were offered opportunities that a lot of people would have taken without a second glance, and they put them on the side for the sake of a passel of unruly children, and their own relationship with each other.

So, as I try and weigh the things I have opportunity to do, as I acquire the necessary money and time, and whether I actually have the inclination and ability to accomplish said things, I have some very good examples close to hand!

Head under water, and you tell me to breathe in.

*WARNING- ENTRY WRITTEN AFTER FOUR HOURS CUTTING SMALL PAPER SHAPES FOR READING PROGRAM- BRAIN FAILURE IMMINENT-

Well, after my minor rant about the lack of computer resources in the library system, and kind comments offering solutions, my issue is solved. I am not allowed to use the main computer. :D No, I am not annoyed about this, all appearances to the contrary. It's security reasons, (even though I have a key and am allowed in here any hour of the day or night :P), so I have been exiled to one of the public computers. Don't you just love bureaucracy? So logical. At any rate, I don't think I want to save any work I do on a public computer, so coding is out.

Instead, I shall order books. Many books. Many big books. Many big lovely books from all over the province. *manic laughter*

On a not-unrelated side note, I am reading Inkheart. I started it before, and didn't like it. But it was heavily recommended, so I thought I'd give it another try. I'm not sure what I was on when I read it before, because I am very much enjoying it this time around. *hugs it*

Now, seeing as I have to be awake in six hours, since Courtney is going to work in the morning, I really should be heading home and falling into bed.

I really am in a minority, aren't I?

I foresee that I'm going to have a fair bit of time at the library to myself this summer. I have to put in the hours, but I don't have enough responsibilities to fill all the hours. At least, if I work with anything approaching efficiency. (This can be fixed, I suppose :D)

At any rate; I had a brain wave at 12:30 last night.

"Oh! I can order some books on coding from the library, and build something lovely!"

So I trundles along to the library this morning, log on to the the provincial catalogue, and find out that most of the books they have on website design were written in the 90's. The ONE which mentions css is a "happy-home-business" type, and focuses on html. They don't have a single book which mentions php. In the ENTIRE PROVINCE. *breathes heavily*

Now, this isn't an insurmountable obstacle, but still, COME ON!!!! What are people using the library for anyways? Do we only deal in trashy romance novels and graphic violence now?

*beats head against wall*

Library Annals: Book 1

I'm spending the day at the library today, decorating and preparing Reading Club materials. This is fun, but I think I'll be here for the full day. Not because the work is hard, or even takes much time. No, I think I'll put in the full 10+ hours because of the people lurking outside the door.

It is raining today, and finals week. Therefore, most of the town's delinquents are hanging out in the library porch. They come and go, but there've been at least three lurkers out there since 10:30. So, any urge to leave work and go home early is easily quelled. :D

I wonder if I can get the coffee maker to work...

Friday the 13th! Tremble!

Yesterday, despite being a day of famous ill fate, was actually rather nondescript.

Except for one happenstance...

I was riding home from work, after a 7 hour McDay, wearing a jean skirt. (I later found out that this was my sister's jean skirt, but that fact comes into the story hardly at all.) It was pouring rain; the kind of weather where the water comes down not in drops, nor even in a steady stream. No, this was the kind of weather which chiefly resembles a series of small waterfalls chasing each other down the street. As a result of this weather, I was taking the trail home. (That is, the old train tracks that run through our town. They run most of the length of town, and are enclosed by trees most of the way. Hence, not much wind.) I had taken my glasses off, since there was enough water in the air that I actually saw better without them then with the glasses on. Anyone who knows how blind I am without my glasses, you have a fine idea just how wet out it was. It wasn't very warm either.

So I'm biking as fast as I possibly can, and abruptly it gets easier to petal. A horrible though flits across my frozen consciousness. Sure enough, the seam in the back of my skirt has taken upon its self to do some quick alterations to my garments. My skirt can now not in all decency by dignified with that name. In fact, there is not really an item of decent clothing in Western Civilization that my former skirt can now be described as. Clearly, emergency plans for getting home unseen must be made.

Due to the weather, the streets are pretty much deserted. I can make it most of the way home unseen. But there are still two major roads to cross, and they always have traffic on them. A search of my pockets for something, anything, turns up my library key. Eureka!

So, I slunk through the back streets to the (closed) library, let myself in with my lovely key, and hung out there for three hours, until the sun went down. I did planning work, clocked in my hours, and made it home under cover of darkness.

Things pop in my mind, I have no control over...

I've been riding a bike to work a couple times, which is rather fun. It's about 4 km. to work, and I can take the old train tracks, which is nice. Since I am riding a bike I share with Mommy which known as the Super Cruiser, I do frequently take the trail. (It has a basket on the front handlebars, visible springs under the seamed pleather seat, and rust-spotted chrome mudguards. Just imagine a 1950's bike with lint (it was stored under the dryer vent) clinging to the handlebars, and you're most of the way there.)

While the bike ride is fun, I have such a remarkable lack of a cardiovascular system that the ride seriously impairs the oxygen that makes it to my brain. I theorize this, you see, because of the "brain waves" which pop into my head near the end of the trip.

My Favourite so far?

Given that the alcohol in cough medicine is what actually does the work anyways, wouldn't it be a good idea to just buy a bottle of whisky and give the children shots of that when they cough? It'd certainly be more cost effective!

I actually thought this was a good idea for almost an hour after I arrived at work, when the light suddenly dawned that feeding the pre-reading age group medicine bought at the liquor store is not the best plan, and feeding the hypochondriac teenagers and pre-teens in our house medicine bought at the liquor store is an even worse one.

To reassure anyone who reads this, I must affirm that the effects of my biking do wear off shortly, and my cardiovascular system is getting better.

I aim to rectify certain inequities.

Fraulein brought to my attention that it sounds, to anyone reading this blog, like I am doing most of the work around the house, while she does nothing. This is, of course, NOT true. She's been making breakfast every morning when she's here, cooking and cleaning, and running the house when I'm not here, which is a lot, as I'm working full time. I would most certainly be certifiably crazy at this point if it was not for her.

Sorry I didn't make this clear before.

Also, I have to apologize for the posts I've been writing lately. My coherence is leaving by the day, rather.

"It was- accomplished." "It was ironic."

Just a quick post before my brain gives out entirely. Not... that I am in any danger of that happening, noooo....

Fraulein and I watched Becoming Jane this week, which was very fun. I have to say, my favourite scene was when Jane talked to Tom in the woods for the first time, and lovely snarky dialogue ensues. I had been described as being like Jane, which concerned me just a little, but now I am secure. My, what with watching National Treasure 2 on the weekend, courtesy of Trapezoid, and Batman Begins last weekend, also courtesy of Trapezoid, I'm becoming quite the movie watcher! I have deemed this to be good. :D

Also, I went by the library today after work. I spent a lovely two hours sorting books, coming home with a nice clutch of them for my self, and had that counted as two hours towards my grant. Cheers! And yes, it is a Clutch of books, due to the fact that I have two Orwells, some Heinlein, some Pournelle, a brand new copy of Guns, Germs and Steel, some Tolkien, and a couple more that I don't remember right now. (All for four dollars!) Not quite books which sit tamely on your shelves. They ooze something at you. Not quite sure what, but something. :D Incidentally, I think the library board's opinion of me was adjusted slightly upward when I pounced on the Tolkien. And several people tried to ease my GG&S out of my pile, but I stashed it on top of a book shelf and emerged triumphant. I think the library should be fun. Hard, what with McDays as well, but fun.

Also, my ipod has finally been named. It informed me while biking home (on the Super Cruiser! :P Oh yes, I rock), that its name was Dio. 

And Mommy and Daddy and Sam and Gideon are coming home next week! Mommy will be here for two days in the early week as well! Cue the cheering and jubilant hysteria!

Wherein the author of this post talks to herself, and several voices answer back.

Today was a one of those days which just feels vaguely successful. I made bread, and yogurt, as well as going grocery shopping. Very exciting, I know. Two of the small ones were on bikes, and I latched the smallest of my charges into the ATTS (All Terrain Transport Stroller), and we set off down the tracks. Thankfully, due to my hard won foresight in bringing the ATTS, I didn't have to carry any small children in addition to the groceries, though I did find it somewhat amusing when the one child who was riding started complaining of being tired halfway there. This is while I'm muscling the ATTS through gravel and over mud ruts. Yes, dear, I'm sure you're tired. Now hush while I cough up a lung. :D No, it was fun, and I think I'm building much-needed arm muscles. 

Then, in the evening, K and C brought by a Pizza meal, and then kindly stayed after to talk. Seeing as there is an age gap of about 15 years, the conversation topics don't abound, but we had a nice evening. 

I've been quite physically tired these past two weeks, what with work at a fast food establishment, and trying to mind the home. Last week, this sent me into a bit of a depression, though I'm good now. This depression, when it was gnawing at the back of my chest, prompted me to say to myself,

"Self?"

My self said, "Yes?"

Me said, "I'm not feeling very chipper, self." 

Self said, "I noticed." 

Me said, "I don't really know why?"

Self sighed, and said, "It's because you're tired, Me." 

Me said, "But why? Why should physical tiredness make me feel unimportant, and invisible, and all that nonsense?" 

Self sighed again, rolling her eyes, and said, "Gee, I don't know. Why don't we ask I. What do you think, I?" 

I pushed her glasses up her nose and said, "I've been thinking about this. I think it's because when you were depressed for real, you weren't eating properly, and you were tired all the time. So your mind interprets tiredness as a sign that you're depressed, and so on." 

Me and Self nodded, then Me said, "But that's bad." 

Self rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "Yes, Me, notice anything else earth-shattering lately." 

Me kept talking. "But, how am I gonna manage running a house when I have children? Not to mention this summer's revolting work schedule." 

I leaned forward eagerly. "But don't you see? That's the point!" 

Self stared levelly at I. "The point? Try again, I almost understood you there."

 I ignored Self. "The point of what you're doing this summer! Treat it as a challenge. See if you can make it through a gruelling schedule, and train your body again to not see tiredness as an emotional trigger!" 

Me and Self agreed that this sounded like a challenging challenge, and a fine summer activity.

So there you have my summer objective. Make it through, and train myself to not be depressed when tired. Speaking of which, I really should head for bed now. Fare thee well!