MONDAY...
— Fine day. Quite morning around the house. Work in CNI doing some stuff for them until supper. Then to AFIS. I actually break in the middle of shift in order to watch the hockey game in the controller’s room with Scott. It means I stay until 1:00 AM to work the difference... but it’s good as Montreal wins 5-0 to move on to the next round of the playoffs.
TUESDAY...
— Was going to do a walk after work tonight... but was too tired so I decide a relatively early night to bed is best (early meaning 1:30 AM)... bless evening shift.
— Work itself is alright. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Do a walk at break with Amy and Stephanie. And I have my first go of the Chip Wagon this year. A fine supper on a summery night.
WEDNESDAY...
— Supper with Nicole and Shannon... we order Chinese. It’s a fine little time. Work is pretty quiet with just Nicole and me.
— Do an hour walk tonight. That goes pretty well.
THURSDAY...
— Lunch with Sheila, Nicole and Genevieve (Sheila’s friends). It’s not a bad start to the work day.
— Off to work from there. It goes okay. Lots of different tasks to do so it’s kept fairly interesting.
— Tape the hockey game but I know what happens before getting home. I over hear some talk of the score... and then one of the guys comes out and flat out says 3-2. So I give up and ask for who. From that point, I check in on things and see Montreal making the comeback to win in overtime. Good stuff.
FRIDAY...
— Work is okay. Busy early on with three people working overtime and Nicole there. I’m alone for the last couple of hours, as they were all in earlier. Come home to watch some hockey on TV and check around on the computer a bit.
— I’d like to propose a law against mail. That is... if the piece of mail doesn’t have a real name and an address written on it... don’t deliver it! I hate how the mailman, who used to deliver the mail no matter rain, sleet or snow, has become nothing more than a well paid pizza menu delivery guy. Every day I get junk mail... coupon books... free samples... advertising papers. If I added nothing to it, my paper recycling box would be almost full every two weeks just on the garbage the mailman and little kids with wagons bring to my door and super box. I’m bombarded with advertising. TV commercials (I think the channels have agreed to all go to ads at the same time too, so there’s no sense in switching)... junk mail... spam e-mail... telephone automated messages (where you’re phoned by a machine)... and internet pop-ups. Soon there’ll be advertising on the pages of books... then the only way to get away from it all is to simply lay in bed quietly.
SATURDAY...
— Two hockey games today and it goes as bad as it could for me. Colorado and Montreal both lose.
— Supper downtown with cousin Paula and her husband, Eddie. It’s a good time catching up and talking Ottawa with the newcomers.
A Sunday In Spring
I have a friend who got married.
I didn’t know it had happened.
I saw his profile picture on the internet,
Standing next to a bride in white.
Last time he was married, I was there as a best man.
This time I learn about it in the same manner as learning about online poker,
And t-shirts with funny sayings.
Not that it upset me.
Being left out from a friends big day.
Second marriages are often smaller than the first.
But with increased technology and abilities to be close to those so far,
It’s easy to see us slip between the cracks, and life happens while we’re unaware.
I saw a shirtless man today.
I didn’t enjoy the sight.
Sitting in the living room, I glance out to see him across the street.
Why is it more acceptable to see a half naked man?
No good comes of it.
Either he’s cut with muscles and appearing pretentious,
Ready to do an exercise ad on TV.
Or he’s not in shape and leaving me with more imagery than I’d like.
Living in a bubble is a fine thing where you only deal with the things that matter.
But your bubble can infringe on mine, and not seeing a hairy man jiggle matters to me.
Smiling means so much.
It can be good or even bad.
A friend’s smile can better the day,
A politician’s smile can breed anger.
I have several friends who smile completely.
Mouth drawn happy, eyes sparkling with energy,
Even a crinkling nose can tell so much.
I’ve seen many politicians who smile falsely.
They smile because their aid tells them they must.
A stamped mouth atop a false face.
Some smiles I love and trust, they bring warmth and calm to me.
Others are trying to scam me. Calling these politicians honourable seems so wrong.
The birds are chirping in tones much like smiling friends.
And since it’s not 4:00 AM, life is pretty good.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Making It Up As I Go Along #316
MONDAY...
— Work alone for a while but Stephanie also comes for some overtime. It’s okay at the office. I even do a walk at one of the breaks.
— Colorado is killing me in the hockey pool. I’m ready to kick the TV while watching them play the late game... they lose to Minnesota in overtime and are now down in the series... JERKS.
— I’ve changed my home e-mail to only check for new messages every 20 minutes rather than every 5 minutes. Just too few real e-mails and too much spam. I’ve been ignoring the notification most of the time anyway, just assuming it’s a message telling me how to grow certain body parts bigger... or how to get a good Rolex watch.
TUESDAY...
— Not alone at all tonight at work. Read and Dan work OT in the early part and Keith is there for the later part. It’s fine.
— Home to see the Montreal game on tape. A good one too. 1-0 Habs.
WEDNESDAY...
— I missed the clip until today, thanks to youtube, but wow are the Ottawa Senator brain trust a bunch of moronic geeks! That pre-game Spartan, gladiator speech thing was laughable. Proof why if you’d ever characterize a hockey team as a nerdy geek, Ottawa is your team. What I can’t believe is that before a do-or-die hockey game, they got the players to line up in a hallway and stand there with straight faces watching this half naked clown march out past them.
— And it’s the end of the Sens. They lose tonight to get swept out of the playoffs. I can’t say I’m broken hearted but I’m friends with enough Sen fans now that I can’t take joy in it either.
— Did a walk after work today. About an hour out there... first time since November I think. It’s good.
THURSDAY...
— Work alone tonight. It goes okay. Melissa and I do supper outside. It’s sunny and 23. Nice to have Spring here at last.
— Montreal gets kicked and I watch it on tape after work. Not pleasing.
— And it appears that I’ve chipped a tooth by taking a bite of a fig bar. Don’t ask me how that happens but biting a pit seems to have taken a little bit of tooth. Pain free but still a pain. I guess the dentist will soon get a call.
FRIDAY...
— In early for a staff luncheon. I sit with Kiyomi and Martin on either side of me. It’s good.
— Work is alright. I’m bouncing around doing lots of different things through the day... and it’s a shorter day thanks to that luncheon.
— After work it’s straight to Karl’s art gallery showing with Melissa. I meet Karl’s family and check out his art in a real gallery.
SATURDAY...
— House day. Watch Spider-Man 3 on DVD... it’s not horrible but not a classic either. Hockey after that. Washington vs. Philly is okay... Montreal vs. Boston is annoying. And by the time Colorado vs. Minnesota comes on, I’m too annoyed to enjoy it. Do I go to work on Monday with Montreal going to game 7? Work half a day and get home in time for the game? Who knows.
We Are Our Babies
When we become our babies.
I speak of those icons that represent us on the computers. The two most notable situations I see this in are on MSN messenger and on facebook.
A picture set up to show you... and many show their two year old child instead. I see that a 35 year old I went to school with is online and I see a picture of a baby who’s so young, the child needs to be propped up by hands in order to pose for the picture.
Thousands of infants across the world are plastered on facebook. They represent their mother, and sometimes but not as often, their father... and they’re oblivious to it all.
Think of the future embarrassments. Those baby pictures we all hate when we get old enough to pay attention. Those shots of us laying in the bubble bath with only our head and butt poking out of the suds. Shots of us staggering on skates with ankles nearly touching the ice. Pictures of spaghetti sauce drenched faces. All of these pictures were held in albums and away from the public viewing in the 70s and 80s. Today, those pictures make it to the internet.
We’re left with no say. Our parents, who have virtually no hint of common sense when it comes to us in infant state, are deciding our fate for us. And that bathtub shot which, in the old days, was viewed by a dozen family members on Christmas or summer visits... today is seen by thousands whenever your mom or dad go online to play scrabble.
And when it comes to babies, we really are an insane race. I’ve seen pictures of worn out looking mothers taken a few minutes after the most traumatic event in their life. A purple head of a child poking out through a blanket on top of her belly... and people leave internet comments on this web based pictures talking about how precious it is... or how cute... or adorable. Bah... it’s a purple infant who’s too tired to pose and a haggard woman who needs her rest.
I know a couple of people who have their own baby pictures representing themselves on facebook. People in their 30s showing pictures from their diaper days. Give it up fools... you’re not tricking anyone!
Some put their pets up there. I may very well have a relative or two who, to the untrained eye, could be mistaken as my pet dog rather than say... my sister!
Then there are those who represent themselves online by posting pictures of their spouse. Women with pictures of bearded men. Men with swimsuit shots of their wives. Not that I have an issue with women in swimsuits. But it just seems oddly disturbing to see those pictures of women with attached names as Dave, Mike, or Bill.
But at least these are adults. They can see the pictures for themselves and, if they don’t want it up there, they can put up a fight. And dogs... well it doesn’t take much figuring to know that it’s a dog. And the dog isn’t going to grow up and learn that it’s been exploited.
But babies... I don’t know. Soon I’ll have a facebook friend who’ll decide they want their profile picture to be the actual birth of their newborn. It’ll be nothing but spread legs and the miracle of birth. And that picture will appear anytime Fred is online.
That is the day I leave facebook. So any friend of mine... if you ever see that I’ve disappeared off the internet universe... now you’ll know why.
— Work alone for a while but Stephanie also comes for some overtime. It’s okay at the office. I even do a walk at one of the breaks.
— Colorado is killing me in the hockey pool. I’m ready to kick the TV while watching them play the late game... they lose to Minnesota in overtime and are now down in the series... JERKS.
— I’ve changed my home e-mail to only check for new messages every 20 minutes rather than every 5 minutes. Just too few real e-mails and too much spam. I’ve been ignoring the notification most of the time anyway, just assuming it’s a message telling me how to grow certain body parts bigger... or how to get a good Rolex watch.
TUESDAY...
— Not alone at all tonight at work. Read and Dan work OT in the early part and Keith is there for the later part. It’s fine.
— Home to see the Montreal game on tape. A good one too. 1-0 Habs.
WEDNESDAY...
— I missed the clip until today, thanks to youtube, but wow are the Ottawa Senator brain trust a bunch of moronic geeks! That pre-game Spartan, gladiator speech thing was laughable. Proof why if you’d ever characterize a hockey team as a nerdy geek, Ottawa is your team. What I can’t believe is that before a do-or-die hockey game, they got the players to line up in a hallway and stand there with straight faces watching this half naked clown march out past them.
— And it’s the end of the Sens. They lose tonight to get swept out of the playoffs. I can’t say I’m broken hearted but I’m friends with enough Sen fans now that I can’t take joy in it either.
— Did a walk after work today. About an hour out there... first time since November I think. It’s good.
THURSDAY...
— Work alone tonight. It goes okay. Melissa and I do supper outside. It’s sunny and 23. Nice to have Spring here at last.
— Montreal gets kicked and I watch it on tape after work. Not pleasing.
— And it appears that I’ve chipped a tooth by taking a bite of a fig bar. Don’t ask me how that happens but biting a pit seems to have taken a little bit of tooth. Pain free but still a pain. I guess the dentist will soon get a call.
FRIDAY...
— In early for a staff luncheon. I sit with Kiyomi and Martin on either side of me. It’s good.
— Work is alright. I’m bouncing around doing lots of different things through the day... and it’s a shorter day thanks to that luncheon.
— After work it’s straight to Karl’s art gallery showing with Melissa. I meet Karl’s family and check out his art in a real gallery.
SATURDAY...
— House day. Watch Spider-Man 3 on DVD... it’s not horrible but not a classic either. Hockey after that. Washington vs. Philly is okay... Montreal vs. Boston is annoying. And by the time Colorado vs. Minnesota comes on, I’m too annoyed to enjoy it. Do I go to work on Monday with Montreal going to game 7? Work half a day and get home in time for the game? Who knows.
We Are Our Babies
When we become our babies.
I speak of those icons that represent us on the computers. The two most notable situations I see this in are on MSN messenger and on facebook.
A picture set up to show you... and many show their two year old child instead. I see that a 35 year old I went to school with is online and I see a picture of a baby who’s so young, the child needs to be propped up by hands in order to pose for the picture.
Thousands of infants across the world are plastered on facebook. They represent their mother, and sometimes but not as often, their father... and they’re oblivious to it all.
Think of the future embarrassments. Those baby pictures we all hate when we get old enough to pay attention. Those shots of us laying in the bubble bath with only our head and butt poking out of the suds. Shots of us staggering on skates with ankles nearly touching the ice. Pictures of spaghetti sauce drenched faces. All of these pictures were held in albums and away from the public viewing in the 70s and 80s. Today, those pictures make it to the internet.
We’re left with no say. Our parents, who have virtually no hint of common sense when it comes to us in infant state, are deciding our fate for us. And that bathtub shot which, in the old days, was viewed by a dozen family members on Christmas or summer visits... today is seen by thousands whenever your mom or dad go online to play scrabble.
And when it comes to babies, we really are an insane race. I’ve seen pictures of worn out looking mothers taken a few minutes after the most traumatic event in their life. A purple head of a child poking out through a blanket on top of her belly... and people leave internet comments on this web based pictures talking about how precious it is... or how cute... or adorable. Bah... it’s a purple infant who’s too tired to pose and a haggard woman who needs her rest.
I know a couple of people who have their own baby pictures representing themselves on facebook. People in their 30s showing pictures from their diaper days. Give it up fools... you’re not tricking anyone!
Some put their pets up there. I may very well have a relative or two who, to the untrained eye, could be mistaken as my pet dog rather than say... my sister!
Then there are those who represent themselves online by posting pictures of their spouse. Women with pictures of bearded men. Men with swimsuit shots of their wives. Not that I have an issue with women in swimsuits. But it just seems oddly disturbing to see those pictures of women with attached names as Dave, Mike, or Bill.
But at least these are adults. They can see the pictures for themselves and, if they don’t want it up there, they can put up a fight. And dogs... well it doesn’t take much figuring to know that it’s a dog. And the dog isn’t going to grow up and learn that it’s been exploited.
But babies... I don’t know. Soon I’ll have a facebook friend who’ll decide they want their profile picture to be the actual birth of their newborn. It’ll be nothing but spread legs and the miracle of birth. And that picture will appear anytime Fred is online.
That is the day I leave facebook. So any friend of mine... if you ever see that I’ve disappeared off the internet universe... now you’ll know why.
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