Stupid people

Today's pointless photo is obviously not of stupid people. It's a crane fly. Sometimes I like them better than people.

They don't live long enough to be stupid.

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Ok, the above and the title of today's post makes me sound like I'm in a bad mood, and really I'm not. I'm just slightly annoyed by something, and maybe the title of today's post should be more like Stupid overly-cheery people on morning television who slightly annoy me. That seemed a bit too long, though, so you've got what you've got.

The... oh, let's abbreviate it because it really is too long... SOCPOMTWSAM who are currently annoying me are annoying me (have we got enough annoying yet?) because of the weather. And before I start my complaint, let me state outright that yes, I know. The heat wave that we're about to enter here wouldn't seem like much of anything to people in Ontario and Quebec, let alone all of the people down in the States who've been through all of this recent weather hell (and without power to boot). I know that. I also know that we don't get the humidity here in Alberta that can make a heat wave a literal killer. I realise that this is going to sound very wah wah wah to those of you living with all of that, so let me just state again that I KNOW.

Still, a heat wave is a heat wave, and this week it's our turn.

We're in for at least a week in the low 30s (and for any of my two fans who are American and haven't caught up with the metric system, if I remember right that's about 90F? And I'll repeat again, YES, I KNOW. But when you live in a place that's more renowned for -30C than +30C, it seems awfully bloody hot). And the morning news show anchors? Well, towards the end of the week their attitude about it was just really starting to tick me off.

And to anyone who knows me in person, yes, you should be reading tick me off as piss me off. I wasn't sure how people would feel about that, though.

Anyway. to anyone on a morning news show (that might possibly be on, say, CTV Edmonton. Or not. Who's to know for sure?): a week in the 30s is NOTHING to rejoice about.

The fake cheeriness about the "beautiful" weekend coming up totally ignores the truth about what a weekend in the 30s really means. It means crankiness. It means people with short tempers. It means a lot of unpleasantness at whatever festival it is that's happening in your city this week (Edmonton has a lot of summer festivals. I've been to about one of them). It might be fine for anyone sitting in a pool or a lake for the time that they're sitting in the pool or lake, but for anyone like me in a small, south-facing apartment with no cross-ventilation that's going to be at least 100 Bazillion Degrees Celsius by the end of the week, the whole thing is decidedly not a thing to be overly cheery about.

Incidentally, I normally find the overly-cheery thing a bit amusing in the morning. Do these morning news people (and I'm talking in general now) really like each other that much? Maybe they actually are that buddy-buddy in real life, but I like to think that behind the scenes they're really keying each others' cars or secretly gluing someone's desk drawers shut.

But that's just me.

And anyway, this silly weather has kind of screwed up my work day, so that likely explains part of the annoyance. My work week changes to Mondays and Tuesdays off in the summer so that I can be out on the Sanctuary trails doing the whole naturalist thing and interacting with visitors. Not sure what I'll do on a day when anyone in his or her right mind is stretched out in the shade with a cold beer (or lemonade, if that's more your thing). I might just end up sketching, since I have my moleskine here (I sometimes do a bit of field sketching) and I have a work-idea that could also be an Illustration-Friday-idea. We'll see. In the meantime, lunch.

Which is another sandwich.

I hope it's not a trend.

Not entirely pointless photos of the day:

And you do realise, of course, that this is risking having the blog turn into a pumpkin...

I just thought that Ces might be interested to know that the sky had vertebrae this morning.

The other photo? Just there to keep the first photo company.

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I'm at a bit of a loss as to what to post today, to be honest, and for a couple of reasons. The first and most immediate reason is that I have a paper cut down the side of my left pinkie, and it's sort of making typing annoying.

I hate paper cuts.

Not that I'm saying that anyone else likes them, but still. Stupid cardboard box that I was trying to wedge into the recycling, anyway.

The second reason I'm a little blather-blocked is that I'm about to disappear from the internet for a few days, and that always makes me feel like I should be working a bit harder to post something worth reading before I go. I don't know why I put that touch of extra pressure on myself, but I do.

It generally leads to some very lame posts, and that's pretty much what's happening here.

I guess I could tell you why I'm disappearing, although that's not terribly exciting either. It's Canada Day weekend here in Canada (well, it would be weird if it was Canada Day weekend in Sweden), and after making it through another spring school programming season I've decided to vote myself a four-day weekend rather than a three-day weekend. With any luck it may even turn into a five-day weekend, but I'm not entirely sure about that yet. A weekend away from the office and my father's place means a weekend with no computer for me, and that leads to a blatherless blog. Well, obviously, since I haven't quite figured out how to do this by telekinesis.

I know some people are reading this and wondering if there's such a thing as a world without a computer for an entire long weekend, and let me assure you that there is. I like not having a computer at home. Sure, I miss out on some things, but it allows me to do more of other things. Take away the easy option and you find other ways to amuse yourself, believe it or not.

So what will I do with my weekend if I'm not going in to see my dad?

NOTHING.

I'm tired, and I intend to do nothing.

I might guilt myself into a little bit of cleaning, especially if I take that fifth day, but other than that... I might sit on my balcony and watch my plants grow. I might watch silly British sketch comedy. I might doodle, or knit a new dish cloth since I see that my current one has an extra hole that it really shouldn't have. Overall, though, the plan is to have no plan.

For days.

Doesn't that sound amazing?

Oh, and in case anyone new to the program wondered, I'll be doing all of this nothing alone. I like it that way. I'm not shy of my own company at the best of times, and after the last month and a half of talking to innumerable school children I think I deserve some time to talk to no one.

That is, except the voices in my head. Wouldn't want them to feel left out.





So there you have it. The last blather of June. Have a great weekend, everyone (and if you're in my area, stay off of the river. It's high enough that even we've cancelled our floats, and we have proper commercial rafts. Having a floating beer party in a Walmart inflatable would be just plain idiotic), and I'll see you whenever I manage to drag myself back to the office.

Or Wednesday. Whichever comes first.

The blowing of the nose

Today's pointless photo is not of my nose (or of the blowing thereof). You're welcome.

Sorry for the unexpected absence this week. I mean, I was expecting to not blog on the weekend, but I wasn't expecting to wake up on Saturday with a throat raw enough to be worried about strep. It's not strep, if anyone was psychic (or psycho) enough to be worrying with me. It's very obvious from the sinus headache (AND THE BLOWING OF THE NOSE) at this point that I have a cold.

Again.

Well, come to think of it this might actually be my first cold of the new year (and I made it all the way into February? That'd be shocking), but still. Why the bloody nose hell whatever do I have to catch every single cold that comes along?

Almost makes me think that I like colds. I don't, but it could almost make me believe that I'm somehow subconsciously seeking colds out.

Ah well. What can a person do but work from home for a couple of days in the hopes that this might decide to be a short cold (is there such a thing?) and then give up and come in to work to cough (and blow the nose) instead?  My head's kind of wishing that I'd thought of a third option, to be honest, but you've all had colds so I don't think I have to continue to the point where I'm starting to describe the joys of snot.

You're welcome, again.

I don't really have a topic for this post, in case you haven't quite figured that out yet.



Is it time for an anyway?





Yeah, I think so. Type at you tomorrow, if I can find my way through the mucous.

I love a piano?

We have a piano at work now.

Every nature centre needs a piano, right?

Actually, my boss has wanted one for a while, and it'll get used. We have several people on staff who play, and members of the public are welcome to give it a go as well (google public piano or something like that, and you'll probably find instances of street pianos or pianos in other public places. Consider it art, if you like). We also often have functions that would probably be enhanced by music.

As for me, I'm... thrilled? No, that's not quite right.

I'm...

um...

I suppose indifferent might be a good word.

And why the indifference, Dee? You like music. You play the piano. You used to teach singing, for Whomever's sake. Why wouldn't you be excited at the prospect of sharing your talent with all and sundry?

For precisely that reason, actually. All and sundry. I don't like playing for all and sundry.

It makes me very nervous.

The fact is, I'm a nervous pianist, and not exactly a great one. I have small hands, I'm not good at faking a tune (very manuscript-bound, me, when it comes to anything but singing), and I really don't like playing when it comes to playing for anyone but myself.

All good qualities when it comes to rattling off a tune in the workplace, no?

I haven't touched the piano yet.



Ok, I've touched it. I opened the lid. And I moved the bench over a bit.

Yep.

Will I touch the piano?









Oh, probably. At some point. If there's very little chance that anyone's paying attention. Like, maybe when the building's closed, or when I'm waiting for an evening group and no one's arrived yet. Otherwise?

Well...

Does it count to admire it from afar?









sigh

Lack of Christmas Carols

But first... OCD much, Dee?

These peels aren't posed. I peeled them that way and put them down without thinking. It was only after I looked at the pile (and these were the teeny tiny mandarins, if you're wondering why there's four peels. I love mandarins, but four regular-sized ones at once is a lot even for me) that I realised that the world deserved a photo of just how habit-bound I am even when it comes to oranges. I always peel them the same way, I get a little miffed if the peel doesn't come off in one go, and obviously I'm a trifle... decorative when I stack the peels.

Sad, really.

Anyway.

My two fans will be shocked to hear that there are no Christmas carols at my house so far this year. No CDs out, no books out, and as far as possible no carols in my head, either.

If you're new to the program, you'll have no idea how shocking this really is. You see, I love Christmas carols. I collect Christmas carols. I have scads of unusual or hard-to-find carols, both to play and to listen to, and I generally have to force myself to wait until December first before I start singing Christmas carols. I figure it's only fair, the December thing. If I didn't have it in place, I'd be driving everyone around me nuts with off-season Christmas carols. I'm usually scalp-deep in carols by now, if you hadn't quite picked up on that.

Not this year.

I'm doing everything I can to avoid it.

And why?





I STILL HAVE NO VOICE.

That's right, still. Well, there's a squeaky little pathetic excuse for a voice that I can almost use to communicate with, yes, but for the most part there's not a voice. And definitely no voice to sing with.

I can't even begin express to you how frustrating that is.

At this point it's fatigue from all the coughing that's been happening these past couple of weeks and I know that all I need to do is rest things to make sure that I don't cause myself permanent damage, but really? No voice at the one time of year when it's permissible to sing along with the vapid tunes in the department stores? No voice when I could be blasting away through my New Oxford Book of Carols at some hoary old thing or other than 99% of North America has never even heard of (I, um, have a bit of a thing for early carols)? No voice when it's Christmas carol season?

Is not fair.

Not fair at all.

And it's equally not fair that I have to work so hard at keeping the tunes out of my head, since I have such a habit of singing along to my internal voices.

It's pretty hard to make it a truly silent night in my brain, boys and girls.

Silent night.

Stille nacht


heilige nacht
Alles schlaft; einsam wacht...



Bugger. This ain't gonna be easy...

Augh

Not to be disgusting, but you know you've coughed too much when you start tasting blood.

And before any of my two fans start to panic and think that I'll either be guest-starring in an Italian opera or on an episode of House, not much blood. Little flecks. Just enough to tell me that the past few days have been pretty violent on my poor throat, that's all.

Like I didn't know that already, what with the screwed-up voice and all, but whatever.

Yeah, this current round of admittedly-minor-but-very-annoying illness has definitely hit old by now. That, plus the headache (and gee? Do you suppose that might have something to do with being kept up at night by -- I dunno -- coughing, maybe?), hasn't exactly made me enthusiastic about blathering today.

Ah well. Could be worse, as I just found while searching the Mayo Clinic site for bloody sputum. Only out of curiosity, you understand. I know full well that I just have a cruddy throat and nothing more than that. It's easy to see, though, how the internet feeds hypochondriacs. Geez. If you have any susceptibility at all to being convinced that you're dying from something minor, the internet can go a looong way towards helping you run with that thought. Doctors must really hate our current culture of electronic diagnoses.

Anyway. Sadly, this is all I have at the moment to blather about. I'll try for something a bit more substantial (and a lot less gross) tomorrow, assuming that I have at least a slightly better night's sleep than I have the past couple.

Later, all.

I... got nothing

And that's even after trying to give the whole "topic" thing a bit of effort for a change.

Just not into it today, I guess.

It doesn't help that I feel so draggy. I know I've been whining about this for a while now (tooooooo looooong) but I'd just like Whomever's in charge to know that I get the point and I'm done with feeling yucky if that's ok. Don't get me wrong -- I'm definitely feeling better. I've just got that tail-end why isn't this over yet? thing going on that doesn't make me especially good company.

Even for myself. I'm usually pretty good at liking my own company, but I'm sick of myself at the moment. Sad, that.

It doesn't help any that I have a mystery pain (well, more of a dull ache than a pain) that's nearly on the verge of turning me all hypochondriacal even though it's 99.9% guaranteed to be nothing. It's just one damned thing after another, as my grandmother would have said.

No, really. She said that a lot. My grandmother was a bit... different, I suppose.

Anyway. This is plenty of wordage for not having anything to say, so it's time to stop typing before this becomes a post. Leaving...







now.