shiz.ca

I. Was not. Picked.

Crap.

Crap, crap, crap.

"We appreciate your interest in this position however we will not be pursuing your application further."

Oh well. Must not be my calling. Vancouver *is* hiring bus drivers, after all, maybe THAT's my thing.

DAMN DAMN DAMN.

I did know some reasons to not be super-thrilled to jump at the chance - well, I have suspcions of how the place I interviewed at runs based on what I hear and experience where I am now. I am smiling, actually. And I may just have a shot at the job I'm temping in, after all.

Right now I think I'd like to be a chocolateer. I should do that, right?

Hmmm, sounds like a Mouseketeer, but for Chocolate.

QUESTION: What sort of pasta dish do I make for dinner on Saturday?

They should not call it "depression"

I really hate having to describe what I have as "depression", because the word as we know it conjures up notions about what the illness is - mainly a depressed feeling - when the disease encompases so much more than that.

Throughout my life I have had symptoms of depression that largely excluded sadness or depressed moods. Depression can sound so much like, "I have "I'm sad today" syndrome", and honestly, so the heck what?

But it isn't merely "I'm sad today" syndrome. The word "depression" gets used for everyone, even people who have brief sad moods that are in no way a true depressive episode.

My most prevalent symptoms include foggy thoughts, endless (and draining) throught-cycles and difficulty making decisions. There may be more, but my mind is, uh, foggy.

I like the name Hemmingway Syndrome. Or Multi-Faceted Mood and Brain Imbalance (MFMBI). Or Neurological Chemical Imbalance (NCI). Or Faceted Undermining Chemical Kicker Erstwhile Disease (FUCKED).

Sometimes depression is listed as a "mood disorder" or mental illness. Mental illness sounds all looney-bin, and mood disorder sounds like you're happy when someone hits you on the head and sad when you win the lottery. We need a better name.

I like Fucked In the Head Syndrome (FIHS). Or "Dear God, What the Hell is Wrong with Me" syndrome (DGWHWMS). Or maybe we should just FINALLY getting around to immortalizing me forever and call it Shiz Disease.

You have to admit it, saying, "I'm sorry boss, but I can't make it in today because my Shiz Disease is acting up" sure sounds better (and more accurate) than "I can't come to work because I'm depressed."

So from now on, I guess I'll be using "mood disorder" or possibly "brain disorder" (sorry, cognitive therapists) depending on the context, but there really has GOT to be a more accurate way to say it. Sometimes I think FIHS says it all.

For the 37th time, I interviewed again ...

This time? A four-on-one interview. AND? I was able to give it a solid interview performance despite there being FOUR persons interviewing me.

I'm not holding my breath, but I did nicely, and I can be proud of that. They'll decide this week. It sounds like it'd be a nice job to have, and the interviewers were all quite friendly. I know it's at a good employer, that the benefits and pay, etc. are good and the location is easy to reach by transit.

If they do not pick me, I say it'll be because some interviewing GENIUS swooped in and outdid me in their freaking awesome interview self. And if someone can do that, more power to ya.

And now that I've done a great 4-on-1 interview, I have much more confidence in my interview prowess. Score!

This post is not awsum.

I saw my uncle on Saturday. He had had a heart attack. He's in great spirits and we spoke for much longer than I'd anticipated. He had surgery today, but no word yet. It is all meant to have been very routine. And then I saw my gramma, a woman who as a child swallowed some Essence of Mischef, Twinkling Eyes, and Winking which has lasted her thoughout her 88 years. She turns 89 in December and still lives on her own. Gramma ROKS.

I made Wolfgang Puck's dal. AND. IT. IS. AWSUM!

Sooooooooooo very awesome and easy to make. Go ahead and give it a whirl.

Whirl, baby, whirl!

I also made, in a fit of culinary creativity, crepes with fresh, hot applesauce and fresh, warm, homemade CARAMEL SAUCE that was, also, very AWSUM! The caramel sauce was so thick that when it cooled it made VERY SOFT CARAMELS that went all melty in our mouths. YUM!

I like cooking. Right now I am making brownies, and NOT your regular brownie. To me, a brownie is always a cross between "cakey" and "cookie"; I am using my mom's recipe, a cookie recipe from her Fanny Merritt Farmer cookbook.

Cooking makes me happy.

Oh, and I might interview somewhere tomorrow. AWSUM! I say might because I didn't get the message in time to call back and confirm, but I'll be ready. YASS!

Also, D and I saw The Squid and the Whale on DVD. It is a good movie but I still kinda wish I hadn't seen it.

You see, things remain with me. And there are things in this movie that disturbed me. There's a lot of pain, and it seems real, it plays real, and it feels engulfing. And the two sons act out in ways that are evidence of that - as well as evidence of their reaction/response to each of their parents. Anyhow, that's the way I feel about it. The acting is fabulous, the script is very good, especially the dialogue, but if you had a hard time with, say, The Royal Tenenbaums*, I'd say this is a step or two more of that sort of stay-with-you-ness. I saw it a week ago and I'm STILL remembering it, dreamlike. And, kinda bad-dream-like. So you softies out there are WARNED.

* I actually love TRT, however, there are some dark parts in it. To me TRT is a movie I'd watch again, and TSatW is one I would not; the line is in-between.

If you were intrigued by TSatW but now are considering whether it's to dark for you, consider watching Imaginary Heroes. Like TSatW, it also has a brilliant Jeff Daniels performance, good scripting and acting, and it doesn't leave you with the "Well, life SUCKS" feeling. It's not happy-go-lucky, but, well, you get the picture.

Also seen recently: Capote (good!), Good Night, And Good Luck (AWSUM!), SCRUBS Season 2 Disc 1 (AWSUM!), Lord of War (pretty good), Thumbsucker (good!), and for the eleventy-billionth time on DVD: Gosford Park (Triple AWSUM!!!).

Brownies are ready, and the verdict is yum. Must. Eat.

Just when you think you're safe from Scott Baio in Prime Time ...

I have an a capella version of the CHARLES IN CHARGE theme song in my head.

Because of SCRUBS.

GREAT show (Scrubs, not CiC), great episode, and even a funny moment WITH the a capella theme song, but please brain, PLEEEASE? Stop it already.

It's very catchy.

Um.

I received a telephone message from my mom yesterday. It's nothing urgent, she said. You're uncle's in the hospital, she said. He has to have an angioplasty, she said. He'll be OK, she said. It's nothing urgent, call me whenever you have a minute, she said.

Needless to say, I am so pleased to hear it wasn't anything urgent.

Just Freaking Do It.

Meanwhile, back at the temp job ...

Scenario One:

Shiz: Person A, please send us a black-and-white photograph

Person A: (Sends file of photograph. In colour.)

Shiz: Person A, please send us a hard copy of your photograph, in black-and-white

Person A: (Drops off colour photograph)

Shiz: Hi! I got your photo, but it's in colour. Will you please bring a black-and-white photo to me?

Person A: Can't you just scan it as colour?

Shiz: The rules specifically ask for a photo, in b&w

Person A: (Brings black-and-white "picture")

Shiz: This looks like a photocopy

Person A: That's because it's printed on the colour photo printer

Later, Shiz sees that Person A has printed a copy of his photo in b&w and then GLUED it to shiny backing paper to try to make it look like a b&w photo. No dice.

Whatever.

Scenario Two:

Shiz: Hi Person B! Will you please fill out the application at applications.com and get me a copy in 9 days?

Shiz: (Five days later) ... Hi! Just making sure you're going to do the application! I need it!

Shiz: (Date of deadline) ... Hi! Where is your application? I need it?

Person B: Oh hi. I see you wrote me this email a while ago about filling in this application. Do I really have to do that? Probably not, eh, since the deadline has passed, right?

Shiz: YES. You have to fill out the application. Have it in by Monday.

Person B: Well, ok, I can have my part of the application done by Monday, but you and so-and-so can do the rest.

Shiz: Actually, the whole application is your responsibility. There is nothing for me or so-and-so to do. Everyone else got their applications in on time.

Honestly, people, just do the freaking thing you're supposed to do! How HARD is that?

Answer: NOT. HARD.

Those Belgians

They never stop making products that astound me.

And, apparently, never hire translators that know slang.

The Verdict is IN

I am so much happier now. I'm out of not one, not even two, but three unpleasant work circumstances that I've worked at for various times during the last year. Even in my current temp job I get to do stuff that's more fun and fulfiling than I've done in several years.

And the stress? Sure life is still life, but my work now has a very reasonable amount of stress - the light, normal, good kind that propels you in an occupation you enjoy. I'm very happy here.

For various reasons I may not end up being offered this particular job, but I interviewed for another one yesterday in the same organization, and enjoyed the interview there, too. I kept making them laugh, and then I rocked the test they had me do afterwards! They want to hire quickly, so they'll probably let me know on Monday what their decision is.

Two friends who live in Delhi just stayed with us for a few nights, and we had such a great time getting reacquainted (and really for D, my hubby, to get to know them initially). We had such a great time and hit it off so well, we're already trying to see when we can visit them in Delhi. D's been planning an India trip to take pictures next year, so he had a lot of questions for them about the area. They had such a great time!

That's me for now. Sorry I've been awol.

** Oh, and another verdict is in: I didn't get the job. Back to the drawing board!

Note to self

When making wonton soup next time, perhaps leave out the red cabbage that makes the broth blackish-purple and the wonton and eerie purple-blue.

Next thing they'll let me run with scissors.

You know when you fill out forms and there's a part that says "Office Use Only"? *I* get to WRITE in that space! Here, in my new job!

Awesome.

Oh, Universe!

You have GOT to stop using the phrase, "On so many levels." It is a horribly vague, clichéd, shallow, meaningless phrase. IT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING! It's a cheap way out of actually communicating anything useful.

Also: "In so many ways."

And MOST DEFINITELY: "In so many ways and on so many levels."

STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP IT! Communicate with words and phrases that actually MEAN something. In which ways? On which levels?

EVEN if you want to summarize that something mattered to you because of several different factors and you don't want to go into detail about what those factors are, skip the hackneyed, hairlipped, literary stepchild of a phrase and say something different. Something fresh! Or at least, something less stinky. Something like,

"The movie Bambi made me feel several stunning emotions. It affected me deeply."

or, "Bill Clinton's speech affected me in several key ways."

or, "Many of the elements of the film The Last of the Mohicans had an impact on me; since then I've considered some different areas of my life, from basic things to the more spiritual."

OR WHATEVER. BUT YOU ARE FORBIDDEN, UNIVERSE, HERE AND HENCEFORTH, FROM USING THE PHRASES IN QUESTION IN YOUR SPEECH, THOUGHTS, OR WRITING EVER AGAIN, UNLESS YOU'RE WRITING A SCREENPLAY AND YOU WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW HOW SHALLOW AND DUMB A CHARACTER IS WHO SAYS IT, BUT IT MUST BE OBVIOUS THAT YOU ARE MAKING FUN OF THEM.

Failure to comply will result in demerits.

The end.

Mish-Mash.

My public awaits me.

That is, the husband wants a post.

FIRST, behold mine freaking eyes.

My eyes, my eyes, my eyes, how they burn with howling hot burningness, and also, how they taste like burning.

SECOND, I have just finished reading Bird By Bird by Anne Lamott. It has one of my favourite anecdotes ever:

My son Sam, at three and a half, had these keys to a set of plastic handcuffs, and one morning he intentionally locked himself out of the house. I was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when I heard him stick his plastic keys into the doorknob and try to open the door. then I heard him say, "oh shit." my face widened, like the guy in Edvard Munch's scream. After a moment I got up and opened the door.

"Honey," I said, "what did you just say?"

"I said, 'Oh shit,'" he said.

"But honey, that's a naughty word. Both of us have absolutely got to stop using it. Okay?"

He hung his head for a moment, nodded, and said, "Okay, Mom." then he leaned forward and said confidentially, "but I'll tell you why I said 'shit.'" I said Okay, and he said, "Because of the fucking keys!"

But I love the book, and anybody - writer or not - can enjoy it. She speaks honestly of how jealous and angry and deranged and gin-drinking we are, and does it with such humor that you think, "I may be one step away from being a serial killer, but at least when I get there I'll be good at it." I like that.

THIRD, at my new job - rather the placement I'm at now with my new job - I have to climb sixty-six stairs to the fourth floor of my work's building. There is an elevator, but elevator-shmelevator and also? It's old and get stuck a lot. Many times a day. (Sometimes when my hands are full I take the elevator anyway and wonder if I'll get stuck. That would be GRAND.)

But anyhoo, the tread on the stairs is a black rubber-stuff with faux white-marbled markings on it, and I'm not a brilliant walker-not-running-into-walls-and-doorwayser to begin with, but this stuff, it's crazy-mad, and it messes with my depth perception and several times a day I feel like I'm falling down these stairs and rushedly grab at the railing to keep from plunging to my death, my most certain death.

And then I realize that I am standing still.

I get embarrassed even if nobody sees me do this. My mind plays a trick on me with this flooring, all the stairs run into each other until suddenly -- WHOA -- a step runs out and ATTACKS me out of nowhere and I'm as good as dead. Or, looking stupid, as the case may be.

It never improves. It's the end of my second week and I take the stairs many times a day, in particular because our floor has no bathroom (crazy!). And I am always falling, falling where there is no place to fall.

Ridiculous.

This is probably a good time to tell you - as good as any, at least - that I am afraid of the following: stairs, escalators, finding cold slimy slugs in the foot of my bed, and urban toilet snakes. Escalators especially. Well, I have turned on the bathroom light unecessarily on a LOT of mid-night peepee trips. But then sometimes I forget.

I've been working on my escalator fear, practically running up to escalators and getting on all hari kari-like (or is "willy-nilly" a better expression in this instance? God forbid I ever fear being too wordy), and I've been getting better. Going up is easier, but recently I got on a down escalator with a hesitation so slight that I think only I would have been able to detect it.

Escallators. Because you can step on the crack part and then it spreads apart and you break your ankle, fall down in front of Steven Spielberg, your dress winds its way up over your head and next thing you know your spleen is broken. BE CAREFUL WITH THE ESCALATOR. Especially going down, because, well, there's FURTHER to FALL and you may break your liver and pancreas as well as your spleen.

And mostly you'd probably twist your ankle and fall down, both of which would really hurt, and the falling down part would be mortifying.

FOURTH, I saw this girl play last night. She. Is. Awesome. She is also a friend. When her EP comes out, I'm counting on each of you to buy for two apiece. That way she'll at least sell four.

FIFTH, (Mac people only) what is with Spotlight on Tiger? It keeps coming up when I type the wrong keys, and yet I have NEVER used it, EVER, and like, why would I? And also, what does it do?

SIXTH, I promised, way back when, a review of this book besides just to say, "Yeah, it's all right," and nod in the corner like a cool cat. So I will work on that.

SEVEN, it's my bedtime. Talk amongst yourselves while I'm gone.

I can FEEL the LOVE.

So I've been waiting for my 2nd-to-last pay cheque, due last Friday. It came in the mail today.

And it isn't signed.

The cheque, the pay cheque? It has no signature on it. They did not SIGN my PAY CHEQUE.

So I called and explained the unsigned cheque yada yada and then got a response of:

"Well, if you had BEEN HERE on Friday you would have gotten the cheque and we would have noticed the error."

They seem to be missing the point.

Maybe, just maybe I'll get paid for everything tomorrow. Well, not everything. I'm pretty sure they'll make a great excuse why they cannot pay me for the vacation and sick pay to which I am entitled. They say both cheques will come tomorrow via courier.