Monday Musings: Tetanus Shots, Houses and the King of Pop

I don't care if I blogged yesterday. I'm blogging today as well. I want to get back to my regularly scheduled blogs, even if no one is clamouring to read them. I haven't been able to write for a while and if blogging is the only way to fulfill that need in me then so be it.

It's strange to be back in the office today. We were out for the entire week last week. It's almost like that strange week that follows Christmas: You know that the big event has happened and it's a little bit of a letdown at the same time as a bit of a relief.

At the moment, as much as I need that ever-important paycheck, part of me is annoyed that work is interfering with my new house. I want to be down there, finishing up the masking so I can get started on the painting. I want to be taking another load of boxes so I can see that slowly, but surely, I am actually moving.

That'll have to wait until tonight or tomorrow. I haven't decided if I'm going to drive down tonight or wait until tomorrow evening. I think it just depends on how I feel. I managed to have a nice "welcome to your home" event on Saturday night. Even though I had vacuumed the carpet in my family room a couple of times and shampooed the carpet, I managed to find a sewing needle. With my foot. I was barefoot. I figured the triple hoovering plus carpet shampoo would have unmasked all the hidden dangers and rather than risk getting my clean carpet dirty with my shoes, I'd take them off.

Bad idea. The needle broke off into my foot. It hurt. As much as I try to avoid doctors unless absolutely necessary, the inability to find the needle on my own led to a trip to Urgent Care, a tetanus shot, a course of antibiotics and a rather painful digging out of the needle. Still, it's out. It was a rusty needle, of course, because if you're going to step on a needle in your new house, it's best to make it as dramatic as possible.

I'm very grateful that it went into my heel; it means I can still hobble around. It doesn't actually hurt much unless I try to walk on it. Fortunately, it didn't inhibit my work on my house yesterday. It's hard to keep a determined Monkeypants down.

I think I'm experiencing House Obsession. This means all I can think about is the house. I keep thinking of things I need to do, things I need. Sadly, most of it will have to be purchased in phases since my cute little salary doesn't allow for too many extraneous purchases. Not that I'm complaining. I have a cute little salary. That's definitely something to be grateful for in this economy.

Still, I have to work today so the house will have to be filed away in my mind until I'm ready to pull it back out and afford the time to think about it. It's been a week since I was in the office and what a long, strange week it's been. I'm not even talking about the conference although having seen some of my coworkers in photos, dancing in a cage on the night I missed was a little strange.

I'm talking about the week in which we lost Michael Jackson. I don't think there's a person in my generation who doesn't have some connection with the King of Pop. For me, it was my childhood years. I had a very enthusiastic P.E. teacher who had a thing for dancing. Every school play we did in my junior school years in England had some element of dancing in it. It never really fit but it was there. My year, we were doing "Harlequinade," which was an adaptation of the classic Commedia dell'arte piece. There were ghosts in the play. I think they were supposed to be the classic "boo!" type ghosts but not in my year. Nope, our P.E. teacher took it upon himself to choreagraph a dance to Michael Jackson's, "Thriller," and teach it to us. Because I could actually sort of move to the beat- this was prior to my chair-boogie flail-dancing years- I was chosen as a ghost. We didn't do The Actual Thriller Dance. No, we did a sort of stiff British School Children version in which we tried to do parts of the Actual Thriller Dance but given that we were nine, it wasn't exactly what you'd call....coordinated.

Yet, every time I hear "Thriller," I think of that play. I also think of my neighbour across the street, a year older than me, a year younger than my brother and a friend to us both. He was a big Michael Jackson fan, even having the gloves and jacket. He swore that when he grew up, he'd be Michael Jackson's friend. He had the singles on the day they came out. He knew the words to every song. I haven't seen him in many years and I won't lie and say I don't wonder about him and his little brother from time to time. When you grow up on a suburban street full of kids and you play with them almost every day, they leave an impression.

I think Michael Jackson left a big impression on us all. If we forget the weirdness of his most recent years, what's left standing is a man who could make music that gave us memories. I hear "Bad," and I think of a summer in which my dad blasted the album while we played volleyball and badminton on our garden set after eating barbecued steaks. There are artists that make noise and there are artists that make music. Regardless of his personal choices, no one can deny that Michael Jackson was not a true icon, the Elvis Presley of the children of the 1980's.

Last week was a strange week. This week is just starting. It's hard to tell what it has in store but I'm sure I'll let you know. Thanks, as always, for reading.

Happy Monday.

Sometimes, It'd Be Nice to Have a Husband...

So I decided not to wait until tomorrow to blog even though, typically, I only blog on weekdays. It's been a few days since I had a chance to blog. The conference got the better of me. I did end up being social and going out both Wednesday and Thursday nights but I ended up watching other people drink rather than imbibe too much myself. It's amazing to see how much people let loose and also sort of fascinating in a voyeuristic way. I don't judge: I'm a firm believer that everyone needs to let down their hair once in a while.

The ending of the conference took a bit weight off my shoulders. It's hard to be social for such long periods of time; We started at 8 a.m. and went out until at least midnight. I was pretty exhausted by the time we got back.

Yet I wasn't too exhausted to ignore the fact that my house is now...my house. Friday afternoon, not too long after I got back from Indianapolis, I headed to my house, let myself in the front door for the very first time and took stock of what I had done.

I confess...when I saw my new house, I had a bad case of buyer's remorse. I mentioned that the previous owner was a sweet little old lady. However, I don't know whether she just didn't clean or just couldn't clean properly but I'm telling you, that house looked nasty. The carpets were grey with cobwebs, the walls filthy with stains. There was a layer of grime over everything. I walked through hoping to find something, anything to remind me why I wanted to live there.

Yet it was too late to back out. The house is mine. With a heavy heart, I finally plugged in my vacuum cleaner and went over each room multiple times. Three hours later and three vacuum bags full, the house suddenly looked different...better. The carpets were blue again and spending that much time in each room began to help me feel like it truly was my house. I moved on, throwing out many of the items the old lady had left behind. I couldn't decide if she forgot to pack them or she thought she was doing me a favour. For example, the fridge was still full of old mayonnaise, pickles, ketchup and cheese. Sadly, much of it had expired and what was left just didn't appeal so I did a thorough purge. At first, when I opened the freezer, I was excited. There was an unopened filet mignon in there, wrapped in bacon, ready to grill. Then I checked the date. It's "sell-by" date was July of 2005. Now, I'm a believer in freezers providing a way to preserve food but, well...that...was a little beyond preserving.

I spent the rest of the weekend shampooing the carpets. I love doing that, I've decided. Though the grime that came out of each room when I emptied the bucket of the Rug Doctor machine was disgusting, there was something very fulfilling about seeing it. I scrubbed down the walls and scrubbed the kitchen. I think the house is finally looking good. I'm going to paint next and have already begun putting masking tape down. It's my house and I'm planning on making it really mine.

It's been an exciting, if exhausting, weekend. I realize that, as a single woman, it's probably a little harder for me to get everything done. I don't have assistance when I'm doing anything. This makes the smallest things difficult. For example, I rented the carpet cleaner and brought it home only to discover it had a three-prong plug. The outlets in my house are primarily two prong. Back I went to Lowe's to buy outlet adapters. If I had someone to help me, they could have done that for me. When I was done cleaning the carpets, I had to run the carpet cleaner back. Again, an errand that I could have sent someone else to do while I started cleaning.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining. I pride myself on my independence. I'm used to it. It's just hard sometimes when all the people who know I bought a house will tell me things I need to do and make me think of things I never would have thought of without them bringing it up. It's nice to have that type of help but sometimes, there are things I just can't think about because I simply don't have the time. I'd love to be able to get a lawnmower and mow the grass. I know it'd be cheaper to buy a used mower. However, that would entail finding the time to search Craigslist for a mower, arranging to see it, going to look at it and then buying it. I'd like to do that but, alas, I'm trying to move into my house and get it fixed up. I have to weigh my priorities. I have enlisted my sister and brother-in-law's help with that, asking them to keep an eye out.

I'd like to be able to do everything by myself; I'm just not sure it's possible. There are only so many hours in the day and with the house being 30 minutes from my apartment, the drive is a factor. On the plus side, there's a huge, lovely Lowe's store five minutes down the street. That's going to be useful. Well, actually, since I went there four times in two days, it's already been useful. Trouble is, each time I go, I realize just how much stuff I'm going to have to learn.

Still, it's all experience and learning and knowing how to do things is half the battle. Going it alone is always hard but there's something rewarding in knowing I found the house and bought it by myself and I'm going to get it fixed up just the way I like it without having to bounce paint colours off someone else. It'd be nice to have a husband to help with the hard stuff but, at the same time, he might not like the cranberry-sage colour scheme I'm going with in the living room.

There are some advantages to being a singleton.

Happy Sunday.

Feeling Like I'm back in High School...

I'm glad this week is halfway done. It's turning out to be a long week. I like the actual conference part but the social part is starting to be a little...old. I've learned, like so many conferences, this one is about socializing and alcohol as much as the conference. Don't get me wrong, I'm not against that but I'm not so sure I quite follow the ropes. There are social groups here and I'm not really part of them.

It's not that I don't know and like my coworkers but it's also a little awkward. I'm trying to be social but it's difficult because I also am trying to do my job and make sure that I don't bomb my presentation. I ended up having a low key evening with two friends and then going to bed at a decent hour. My presentation isn't until tomorrow but I'm highly stressed about it and I figure it's better to not go out and get obliterated with my coworkers in lieu of, you know, feeling ok to go to the conference the next day.

Naturally, I feel like I'm a bit of a wet-blanket. I had actually planned on being a little more social but my two friends and I got sort of ditched so we ended up just hanging out with a glass of wine which, truth be told, is more my style anyway.

Yet then, as always, I'm left feeling like the nerd in high school who is left standing alone because I'm gangly and awkward. Even those the days of my gangliness are long behind me, inside, I think, I'm still the odd-looking, not-quite-grown-into-my-face girl who shyly stands and wants to be part of a group but is afraid to ask. Yet, I'm actually not afraid to ask, anymore. More than anything, in my mind, I'm still a nerd but I'm comfortable with that, comfortable with not being part of the group. Yet, it's a catch-22: I like being the one to make the choice but...am I making the choice? Self-doubt prevails.

I hate self-doubt. I hate worrying that everything I say is taken the wrong way as i think was the case yesterday. Even my off-hand comments seem to get taken the wrong way and I feel like I'm constantly doing the wrong thing. I've never been to this conference before like almost my entire company AND our clients have. I seem to constantly have to ask questions which makes me feel too much like a newbie, all over again.

Still, today is a new day. I'm going to try to approach it as a fresh start, a chance to not feel like a fish-out-of-water. Of course, those constantly churning butterflies in my stomach aren't really helping but maybe, just maybe, after I blurt my presentation, all will be well.

I can only hope.

Happy Wednesday.

First Day of the Conference...Yay..

So, it's the first full day of our conference today and, already, I'm exhausted. I like being around people but this is a lot of people and effort of trying to smile and constantly promote our company is pretty tiring. Still, so far, I'm quite enjoying it. The food is excellent. Isn't that really how you judge a conference though?

I have been to a few of my coworker's presentations and it's been pretty interesting so far. The nicest part of the conference is that no matter how unsettled I've been feeling in my job lately, I feel like I really am part of a team. I work with good people and it's nice to be able to be part of a group like this.

The bad part of the conference is that no matter how hard I try to wiggle out of it, I still have to do my presentation. It's not until Thursday which is both good and bad. It means I have a couple of days to prepare. It also means I have a couple of days to stress. It doesn't help that everyone tells me I'm going to be on the spot because apparently, the software I'm presenting is a hot topic. Yay. Can't wait. I also see that I'm lucky enough to be in the biggest room we have and rather than stand nicely behind a podium and talk, I'm on a little stage in front of everyone. Can you tell I'm thrilled.

I can't lie and say that idea of doing a dance instead of presenting my topic didn't cross my mind. I think for at least a few minutes, the sheer absurdity of my fantastically awful dance moves might distract them. It might even frighten them. It might even make them leave. Hmm....

I'm currently on break. It's the first one I've had all day. Tomorrow, we get the evening to ourselves which should be fun. It's hard to get up at 6 a.m. and not have a moment to breathe until 5 p.m. I have a meeting soon so I'm savouring the free time.

I'm also trying not to think about the fact that the sweet little old lady has moved out of my house now. As of yesterday, my house was MY house. I'm excited. I can't wait to get in and explore.

Anyway, it's not the most exciting blog in the world but I feel strange nowadays if I don't blog. I feel like there's something I've forgotten to do, even if I haven't actually forgotten to blog but simply haven't had time. I'll try to blog at least semi-regularly. Now I've discovered I have an internet connection, it's easier. Of course, not having time makes it not so easy but knowing me, I won't be able to withhold my ramblings for too long.

Happy Tuesday.

Fridays, Father's Day and The Dread of Public Speaking...

It's Friday. Normally I'd be rejoicing about that but since it means a day of flurried activity and hyperdrive to get everything done, I'm not sure I can rejoice quite yet.

We have, as I've mentioned, an annual conference next week. It's one of those things where we're holding at a hotel and we're staying all week. There's no internet access in our rooms because it costs too much for our company. So, chances are, my blogs will be few and far between.

In the meantime, today is a day about not looking like a twit when I have to do my presentation. I haven't done one of those for ages. I have to talk about a new piece of software. I like the new piece of software but it doesn't really work quite well. At one point, I had to make up Photoshopped images to make it look like it it worked. Fortunately, since then, I've been assigned a new programmer and he's fantastic. Yet, the software still keeps...breaking. He's working hard, I'm working hard but it's always the way, isn't it?

Which means I still don't know if I can actually demonstrate the product or if I'll be doing a PowerPoint slideshow. I'd much rather do a demo so that the attendees don't wonder why we're NOT demonstrating the product since it's due to be released in a month. Yet, at the same time, I also don't want to be left standing in front of an audience and noticing that the software broke again.

Can you tell I'm excited? It doesn't help that I've just been told my session has one of the largest number of registrants. Uh, yay? This is because there's very little else going on at the time of my session and people are paying to see something so lucky, lucky me, they're coming to watch me.

Naturally, this idea does not fill me with a chair-boogie-ing sense of joy. It fills me with a teensy bit of dread.

Today is going to spent trying not to look like an imbecile when I speak to my crowd next Thursday. I'm just glad the days of pitchforks and flaming torches are over. That would fill me with a lot more dread.

Yet, it is nice to remind myself that I have two days between now and Monday, the start of the conference, to stress...uh, I mean, relax. It's Father's Day this weekend. I like giving gifts but not for my dad. That sounds mean, doesn't it? I love my dad. I just don't love buying things for him.

Like many men, he tends to have the "If I want something, I'll just buy it when I want it" trait. Which means that there isn't too much you can buy for him because chances are, if he wants it, he's already bought it. Many a Christmas, my siblings, my mother or I have planned gifts for him only to discover he's just ordered that gift online for himself. When you politely try to explain that maybe he shouldn't buy himself gifts close to occasions where others might be buying them for him, he acts confused. Sometimes, sadly, this usually also results in a bit of a lecture as to how I just ruined his holiday because I told him what someone was going to get him if I manage to stop him ordering something in the nick of time. Or he pouts and acts put out because he wants it RIGHT NOW.

He just doesn't grasp the concept of making a wish list of things he'd like but doesn't buy. For him, if he wants it, he buys it. The worst part is if he does tell you something that he wants for Christmas/his birthday/Father's Day, we'll go to the trouble of hunting it down (as was the case with the Nintendo Wii when it was at the peak of its demand a couple of Christmases ago) and he'll get excited when he opens it. Then, less than a month later, the gift has been put aside and he's moved on. He probably hasn't played his Wii in over a year. Fortunately, my nephew likes it. If he continues to ignore it, I might just be 'borrowing' that Wii for my new house. Waste not, want not. Actually, buying gifts for my dad isn't such a bad thing. I have a nifty pasta press that my sister got him a few years ago and he didn't take out the box. I hijacked it since I knew I'd use it. If he wants it back, naturally I'll return it but, in the meantime, he hasn't really noticed its absence.

This is not to say my dad is a bad man at all. I think he's just oblivious sometimes. He's also a creature of changing obsessions. He's been into maritime books for a while now which is good because aside from Louis L'amour, he never read much. Now, he's reading the high seas equivalent of Louis L'amour but at least he's reading. I've learned more about being on a ship than I ever thought I would because as well as a reader, my dad is a sharer. This means that no matter how often you try to wiggle towards the bathroom, he'll stop you on the way and share some intriguing piece of trivia with you that ends up being a full-fledged lecture. It's not a bad thing but sometimes, he does it when you really, really have to go to the bathroom and he doesn't get the hint, even when you're diving towards the bathroom door handle and he's followed you. Other times, he'll choose to share facts from his reading when you're trying to watch TV or read your own book. Again...I think it's just a bit of oblivion on his part. He can't possibly comprehend that I might not be quite so interested in the adventures of Lord Nelson as he. I let him tell me things because sometimes it is interesting.

My dad is a special creature. I suppose Father's Day is the best time to remember that. This year I got him a bottle of nice wine. I'm not worried about him reading my blog; he doesn't read what I write unless it's an email or letter for his business. I think he'll like the wine though, I tried to pick out a type I know he'll like. It was either that or a gift card but I've been doing that a bit too much lately for him and I decided to try something different.

I hope he likes it.

Happy Friday and have a great weekend.

There's always a Weatherly....

I am at a workshop all week. I think I mentioned that. Yesterday, I had to put in 13 hours of work. I'm playing two roles at the moment, one as a trainee which means I forced to cram a lot of information into my brain and the other as an employee of my company since they're providing the training. This means that I am expected to retain the learning.

I'm trying. I mentioned I wasn't good at meetings yesterday. I probably should mention today that I've never been particularly good at listening to lectures. I don't mind if it's a good lecture for which I have an interest in the subject but if it's remotely dull, I don't do to well.

This is not to say I don't keep trying. It just means that if the lecture is slightly dull or boring, i'm doomed.

Take yesterday for example. I had to learn some rather complicated stuff about how the software our company develops works. I managed to take in almost all of the first session. After that...well, it was spotty.

I did spend some rather interesting time observing people. I have learned in every training session, there's always one person whose head you wouldn't mind chopped off and served on a platter. Um, wait, maybe I should make that less barbaric lest you think I'm some kind of weirdo. There's always a person you would like to throw something at. Yes, much better.

In my session, we shall call her Weatherly for that is almost her name. Weatherly has used our software for a few years and thus, is an expert. Or so she claims. My first interaction came when I sat at her table for the obligatory welcome-and-introduce-yourself-by-saying-something-witty session. Bad idea. I didn't have a name badge on so she had no idea who I was. I got to listen to Weatherly talk about how tiny this training was compared to last year. I discovered afterwards that she hadn't been to the training last year and that she was thinking of a conference from two years ago. The conference is an annual event with over 200 people. Trainings average about 10-15 people. This one is 25 people.

She also managed to bad mouth several staff members who I know and like and respect. After a few too many moments, I reached across the table and introduced myself, pointedly. All this did was earn me a somewhat condescending sneer and meant that she began to whisper to her companion instead of talk full voice for the rest of the session.

She also likes to talk. A lot. Except it's never about anything useful, just very much about what a wonderful and fascinating person she is. She also likes to read the New York Times during the training sessions and then, during the exercises in which we apply what we've just learned, she spends the whole time asking the trainers questions because she's confused.

Fortunately, she's not the only distraction. We get a lot of breaks. I have a computer. This is dangerous as I'm a chronic surfer. I'm actually supposed to be listening but Weatherly just asked a question. She just arrived. 20 minutes late. She missed the discussion that would have answered her question. I'm trying to be patient but it's first thing in the morning. If the people who are from a time zone that's 3 hours behind can be here on time, I don't get why Weatherly, from a place within this time zone has to be late.

So I surf. I've read my Entertainment Weekly for the day. Normally, I like that website. Lately, it's been all about the Twilight movie. Once upon a time, I was curious about that movie. Then I read Breaking Dawn and I've retroactively reformed my opinion of the Twilight story. I hate it now. I'm so thrilled that teenage girls are fainting at the site of Robert Pattinson whenever they happen to catch a glimpse of him. He's playing the lead vampire in the movie, the swoony, perfect Edward Cullen. I say that with full sarcasm.

The funny thing is, in reading the Entertainment Weekly, I realized that Mr. Pattinson doesn't seem to care for his role much. Stephanie Meyer, the author of the novels, seems to think this movie is going to set him up for Leonardo DiCaprio levels of fame because it's such an amazing role. She makes a few slightly disparaging comments in the article about him disguised as compliments. I found that amusing.

More amusing, I found that both Robert and his costar, Kristin Stewart, don't seem to be taking their roles as seriously as both Meyer and the fans would like. They both seem to want to make sure that this isn't the defining role of their careers, that they'll be able to be actors without forever being able to be referred to as "Bella" and "Edward." I'm glad for them. It's quite a commitment they've made and neither of them seem to have known exactly how insane the fans and their mothers are.

So, seeing that they have teenage girls swooning before the movie comes out, makes me smile. I think it's good to have that sort of passion. It worries me a little in their mothers but...well...maybe it's a bonding thing. Maybe those mothers don't really fancy themselves a seventeen year old vampire. Granted, he's been 17 for a long time now but, well, that fictional character...he's still seventeen

Anyway, along with that surfing, I've also managed to read my email, make a move in my online scrabble-type game and read WAY too much on Facebook. And I still manage to get all my work done.

I'd say I'm proud of that but I'm really not. It's just the way I get through the day. I can't help it...I really want to be a good little student but I'm not. Not really. After all, I am the one who, in high school, tried to read Moby Dick, read the first page and then decided I could not read that book. I managed to do quite well in the discussion and on the paper; it's amazing how much deep thought you can make up when you read the back cover of a book. This is even before Wikipedia.

Anyway, I'm just babbling today because I don't have the usual time or brainpower to be able to write anything too funny or deep. Besides, Weatherly has sucked what little brain power I had away. She's currently asking why she can't connect to her home network on her personal laptop. My response would be much less polite than the instructors. Then again, her office only paid a few hundred dollars to send her here; why on earth would she need to learn anything?

Clearly, Captain Monkeypants is feeling snarky and crabby today. I apologize. I promise to be perkier tomorrow. Well, maybe not perky, perkiness in me is a little alarming. But I don't have to work quite so long today so maybe I'll this will help.

Then again, Weatherly is here all week. I can't wait.