One of the websites that I'm on has picture voting. I submitted one of my pictures for voting, and only recently found that I can see the vote breakdown by age.
Now, I know a lot of guys over 20 on here have complained about 14 yr old girls viewing their profiles a lot. I seem to have the other problem, the older the guy the higher the average vote was. Not only did the older (41+) group have the most votes, but they voted a full point higher, on average, than the next highest range (33-40).
I guess I could freak out and be all ewwww, but maybe there's more to learn here. I realize the tiny sample size makes this anything but scientific, but hear me out.
With the media (yeah, I know, me, blaming the media) showing 'perfect' girls, maybe the younger guys have higher, unattainable standards (well, ok, we all knew that already) that they apparently actually bring into the semi-real world. Those 41 and over singlehandedly raised my average to 0.2 points above what the 33-40's had voted me. With only 23 votes in the 41+ range, and a total of 68 votes, that's quite a feat. But, enough about that... It's late, I have to sleep... if I can...
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Santa's dead
There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world.
However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to population references). Assuming an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, this computes to 108 million homes - presuming there is at least one good child in each.
Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that, for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stocking, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh, and get onto the next house. Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household. This amounts to a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. Therefore, Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second -- 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour.
The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousands tons, not counting Santa himself. On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that the "flying" reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job can't be done with eight or even nine of them---Santa would need 360,000 of them. This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch). 600,000 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere.
The lead pair of reindeer would absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip. Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 miles per second in 0.001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 g's. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo.
Therefore, if Santa did exist, he's dead now.
However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to population references). Assuming an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, this computes to 108 million homes - presuming there is at least one good child in each.
Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that, for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stocking, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh, and get onto the next house. Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household. This amounts to a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. Therefore, Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second -- 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour.
The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousands tons, not counting Santa himself. On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that the "flying" reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job can't be done with eight or even nine of them---Santa would need 360,000 of them. This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch). 600,000 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere.
The lead pair of reindeer would absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip. Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 miles per second in 0.001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 g's. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo.
Therefore, if Santa did exist, he's dead now.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Changing Priorities
How often is it that one comes across a situation that completely changes the way one looks at the world, and priorities? Until this week, I had given up on my seemingly dream job, was happy in my current job and wanted to work towards the husband and babies life plan. Then I got a heads up about the potential opportunity to go back to my home town and partake in my dream job. I’m at the top of this list, personally mentioned by the guy in charge. Suddenly I find myself forgetting about buying a house in Calgary, forgetting about finding the man for me and being happy with a man who I’ll leave here when I potentially go back home and do my dream job.
I once heard a man say that you always have time for your passions, and that you should find your passion and figure out how to make a living doing that. His personal example was landscaping, he had started a landscaping business in high school, eventually moving on to other business ventures, and being busy busy with those. Then he gets a call from a buddy asking if he wants to help make a dirt biking track and suddenly his schedule is empty and he flies home to do extreme landscaping. I remember thinking then that I didn’t have such a passion, there’s nothing that I would drop everything to do. Nothing I believed in, cared about, that much. This week has reminded me that I do have such a passion, but it’s in such a narrow field, that it’s hard to get into, and I don’t have the sufficient education that would normally allow me to pursue it, nor do I have the desire to go around the long way and hope and pray to get into my desired department. Which, would only last a few years because they move people around very quickly.
So, with a simple cross-country text message, my priorities changed, my passion became slightly plausible. Well, in a year or so after they get a new office, and after they get funding, but it’s there. But, what do I do while I wait for the time to pass? I hate being in limbo, and that’s exactly where I am.
So, here I am, waiting for a potential job offer if they ever get funding for enough investigators to actually want an analyst...
I once heard a man say that you always have time for your passions, and that you should find your passion and figure out how to make a living doing that. His personal example was landscaping, he had started a landscaping business in high school, eventually moving on to other business ventures, and being busy busy with those. Then he gets a call from a buddy asking if he wants to help make a dirt biking track and suddenly his schedule is empty and he flies home to do extreme landscaping. I remember thinking then that I didn’t have such a passion, there’s nothing that I would drop everything to do. Nothing I believed in, cared about, that much. This week has reminded me that I do have such a passion, but it’s in such a narrow field, that it’s hard to get into, and I don’t have the sufficient education that would normally allow me to pursue it, nor do I have the desire to go around the long way and hope and pray to get into my desired department. Which, would only last a few years because they move people around very quickly.
So, with a simple cross-country text message, my priorities changed, my passion became slightly plausible. Well, in a year or so after they get a new office, and after they get funding, but it’s there. But, what do I do while I wait for the time to pass? I hate being in limbo, and that’s exactly where I am.
So, here I am, waiting for a potential job offer if they ever get funding for enough investigators to actually want an analyst...
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Private: Changing Priorities
How often is it that one comes across a situation that completely changes the way one looks at the world, and priorities? Until this week, I had given up on my seemingly dream job, was happy in my current job and wanted to work towards the husband and babies life plan. Then I got a heads up about the potential opportunity to go back to my home town and partake in my dream job. I'm at the top of this list, personally mentioned by the guy in charge. Suddenly I find myself forgetting about buying a house in Calgary, forgetting about finding the man for me and being happy with a man who I'll leave here when I potentially go back home and do my dream job.
I once heard a man say that you always have time for your passions, and that you should find your passion and figure out how to make a living doing that. His personal example was landscaping, he had started a landscaping business in high school, eventually moving on to other business ventures, and being busy busy with those. Then he gets a call from a buddy asking if he wants to help make a dirt biking track and suddenly his schedule is empty and he flies home to do extreme landscaping. I remember thinking then that I didn't have such a passion, there's nothing that I would drop everything to do. Nothing I believed in, cared about, that much. This week has reminded me that I do have such a passion, but it's in such a narrow field, that it's hard to get into, and I don't have the sufficient education that would normally allow me to pursue it, nor do I have the desire to go around the long way and hope and pray to get into my desired department. Which, would only last a few years because they move people around very quickly.
So, with a simple cross-country text message, my priorities changed, my passion became slightly plausible. Well, in a year or so after they get a new office, and after they get funding, but it's there. But, what do I do while I wait for the time to pass? I hate being in limbo, and that's exactly where I am.
So, here I am, in a quasi-relationship that may or may not go further than the bedroom and a potential job offer if they ever get funding for enough investigators to actually want an analyst. Who knew that I would actually miss my time in Edmonton with no life.
... I did... and yet, here I am.
I once heard a man say that you always have time for your passions, and that you should find your passion and figure out how to make a living doing that. His personal example was landscaping, he had started a landscaping business in high school, eventually moving on to other business ventures, and being busy busy with those. Then he gets a call from a buddy asking if he wants to help make a dirt biking track and suddenly his schedule is empty and he flies home to do extreme landscaping. I remember thinking then that I didn't have such a passion, there's nothing that I would drop everything to do. Nothing I believed in, cared about, that much. This week has reminded me that I do have such a passion, but it's in such a narrow field, that it's hard to get into, and I don't have the sufficient education that would normally allow me to pursue it, nor do I have the desire to go around the long way and hope and pray to get into my desired department. Which, would only last a few years because they move people around very quickly.
So, with a simple cross-country text message, my priorities changed, my passion became slightly plausible. Well, in a year or so after they get a new office, and after they get funding, but it's there. But, what do I do while I wait for the time to pass? I hate being in limbo, and that's exactly where I am.
So, here I am, in a quasi-relationship that may or may not go further than the bedroom and a potential job offer if they ever get funding for enough investigators to actually want an analyst. Who knew that I would actually miss my time in Edmonton with no life.
... I did... and yet, here I am.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Cancer
A good friend from years ago told me tonight that he has terminal brain cancer. He says he's going to fight till the end, but it will still be 4 to 5 years. He's 24, less than a year older than me, and he knows that he'll probably never turn 30, or have kids, or at least not watch them grow up, or any of that stuff. And yet, he's making posts on Facebook about it.
I admire his strength... I just wish it wasn't true. It's been two and a half years since I talked to him, and now I have no idea what to say.
I admire his strength... I just wish it wasn't true. It's been two and a half years since I talked to him, and now I have no idea what to say.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
The Gym
Many years ago an ex-boyfriend of mine decided that the only way we could be together was if I embraced his passion for working out. Granted, at the time I didn't have many hobbies, so I spent a lot of time at school, working or hanging out with a couple friends. But anyway, he often took me to the gym with him where he became my personal trainer. I learned technique for free weights, but never really pushed that hard because, well, I just didn't care that much.
Last week I joined a Woman's Gym, and have gone 4 times since. I've also been eating a little bit better in the evenings because the Gym is upstairs in a Superstore, so I'll have slightly higher gas bills, lower grocery bills and a gym bill. I think it will all even out because of how much I'll save shopping at Superstore instead of Safeway. It's also really hard to buy shitty food when you've JUST left the gym.
Today I did a class called Body Pump, you take weights, and lift them, to music. It's the first time I've ever really pushed myself when it comes to weights, and washing my hair was so difficult afterwards, even after a previous hot shower and 20 minutes in their dry sauna. I've also taken to running on the eliptical, today I did 2kms, and i plan to increase the distance until I get to 35 minutes of running, and then change to 35 minutes of running, and try increase the distance every time. There's a spot on the machine where you can put a USB Key and it will track your progress. So, I have a small key which I will keep with my gym stuff and track my time/distance.
Anyway, the point of this post was supposed to be that after class one of the ladies came up to me and commented on my form. At the start of class they asked if anyone was new, so I raised my hand as I had never been to that class before. The lady was apparently impressed at my form (there was another lady who didn't say she was new who appeared to not be able to do it properly to save her life).
So, I would like to thank Roch for teaching me good form, it is finally paying off, and I'm going to the gym three to four times a week and doing a variety of workouts, not just strength training. I will get lean and toned and I will stay that way.
I would also like to thank my cousin Petra whose own weight loss and stories of running 10kms three times a week inspired me to start to look into the gym.
And, the girls in the AP forum on Nexopia who started a discussion on various gyms and inspired me to actually go and look at the gym.
And, of course, my boy David who hasn't complained once (yet) about me taking my Saturday and Sunday mornings away from him so I can go to the gym instead. He has also been really good at letting me do with for me and being supportive and not pushy.
Last week I joined a Woman's Gym, and have gone 4 times since. I've also been eating a little bit better in the evenings because the Gym is upstairs in a Superstore, so I'll have slightly higher gas bills, lower grocery bills and a gym bill. I think it will all even out because of how much I'll save shopping at Superstore instead of Safeway. It's also really hard to buy shitty food when you've JUST left the gym.
Today I did a class called Body Pump, you take weights, and lift them, to music. It's the first time I've ever really pushed myself when it comes to weights, and washing my hair was so difficult afterwards, even after a previous hot shower and 20 minutes in their dry sauna. I've also taken to running on the eliptical, today I did 2kms, and i plan to increase the distance until I get to 35 minutes of running, and then change to 35 minutes of running, and try increase the distance every time. There's a spot on the machine where you can put a USB Key and it will track your progress. So, I have a small key which I will keep with my gym stuff and track my time/distance.
Anyway, the point of this post was supposed to be that after class one of the ladies came up to me and commented on my form. At the start of class they asked if anyone was new, so I raised my hand as I had never been to that class before. The lady was apparently impressed at my form (there was another lady who didn't say she was new who appeared to not be able to do it properly to save her life).
So, I would like to thank Roch for teaching me good form, it is finally paying off, and I'm going to the gym three to four times a week and doing a variety of workouts, not just strength training. I will get lean and toned and I will stay that way.
I would also like to thank my cousin Petra whose own weight loss and stories of running 10kms three times a week inspired me to start to look into the gym.
And, the girls in the AP forum on Nexopia who started a discussion on various gyms and inspired me to actually go and look at the gym.
And, of course, my boy David who hasn't complained once (yet) about me taking my Saturday and Sunday mornings away from him so I can go to the gym instead. He has also been really good at letting me do with for me and being supportive and not pushy.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Finland School Shooting
A 22 year old man puts videos of himself shooting a gun up on YouTube. The police are notified, and interview him on September 22. September 23rd at 11am he walks into his NAIT/SAIT type school and kills 10 classmates. Some he burns beyond recognition. Reports from those inside say that it was a cool, calculated move by a young man who had friends and good marks. Not quite the typical school shooter (isn't it sad that there is a 'typical' school shooter type?). He leaves the school at 1230 after shooting himself in the head and dies shortly thereafter. 11 dead, with no motive, except internet celebrity status, yet apparent.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Plagiarism
I spent three and a half years at MacEwan, with a year of the University of Alberta in the middle. They both claimed to punish those who plagiarized. For some reason the U of A put the fear of god into me on that topic, more than anything anyone said to me while I was at MacEwan.
I remember staying after class one day to ask my TA if I was going to get in trouble for not citing a source from one of the movies we watched in class (it was a Film and Media Studies class). Boy was I nervous. I was hoping to all hell that they weren't going to kick me out of school for making a small mistake like that. The U made it clear that if they kicked you out, no other self-respecting school would allow you in either. Many of my classmates said that their professors made them submit papers through websites that had databases of papers and would check for plagiarism that way. This, of course, is really scary. What if, by pure chance and probability, you had the same sources as a student from last year? What if he highlighted parts of the book, so you noticed them, and used the same information? Is this plagiarism? Would you get expelled for it? These things seriously worried me. I made myself a system that, if followed precisely, would prevent me from inadvertently plagiarizing off of a website source.
Then, I get back to MacEwan, start a new program, get the ‘Don’t plagiaries’ speech at the start of each class, so I take it seriously. I use my same precautions, be extra careful. Then in my fourth year of post secondary, only a couple classes away from getting a Diploma and getting out of school, I’m in a group with three other people who are not from Canada. Their English is shitty at best. One of them disappears back to Mexico, I think someone died, but who knows. The other two are smart, but really, can’t put a proper English sentence together to save their lives. Obviously I’m in charge of putting the paper together because, well, I have a grasp on the language. So I’m reading, editing, trying to figure out what the hell this girl is trying to say and then magic. A perfect sentence. Not just perfect, extraordinary. Professionally written even. Hmm…. red flag much? So, I copy it into Google, I mean, what other choice do I have? And oh look. There it is.
I send an e-mail to the professor. I mean, I don’t want her kicked out, but I certainly want something done. When I talked to her she didn’t understand the seriousness of the issue, she didn’t care. Really, why should she? She fucks up she goes back to China, the world moves on, ok, no Canadian education, but it’s not like she’s going to integrate properly anyway. She fucked up, I get blamed, I just wasted $35,000, four years, and can’t get any more education because of the huge black mark on my folder. The professor never responded in any way. I don’t know if she ever spoke to the girl. The other students at MacEwan wondered why I was taking it so seriously.
I'm guessing the University makes you believe it because they believe it, while MacEwan just claims they do because they have to.
I remember staying after class one day to ask my TA if I was going to get in trouble for not citing a source from one of the movies we watched in class (it was a Film and Media Studies class). Boy was I nervous. I was hoping to all hell that they weren't going to kick me out of school for making a small mistake like that. The U made it clear that if they kicked you out, no other self-respecting school would allow you in either. Many of my classmates said that their professors made them submit papers through websites that had databases of papers and would check for plagiarism that way. This, of course, is really scary. What if, by pure chance and probability, you had the same sources as a student from last year? What if he highlighted parts of the book, so you noticed them, and used the same information? Is this plagiarism? Would you get expelled for it? These things seriously worried me. I made myself a system that, if followed precisely, would prevent me from inadvertently plagiarizing off of a website source.
Then, I get back to MacEwan, start a new program, get the ‘Don’t plagiaries’ speech at the start of each class, so I take it seriously. I use my same precautions, be extra careful. Then in my fourth year of post secondary, only a couple classes away from getting a Diploma and getting out of school, I’m in a group with three other people who are not from Canada. Their English is shitty at best. One of them disappears back to Mexico, I think someone died, but who knows. The other two are smart, but really, can’t put a proper English sentence together to save their lives. Obviously I’m in charge of putting the paper together because, well, I have a grasp on the language. So I’m reading, editing, trying to figure out what the hell this girl is trying to say and then magic. A perfect sentence. Not just perfect, extraordinary. Professionally written even. Hmm…. red flag much? So, I copy it into Google, I mean, what other choice do I have? And oh look. There it is.
I send an e-mail to the professor. I mean, I don’t want her kicked out, but I certainly want something done. When I talked to her she didn’t understand the seriousness of the issue, she didn’t care. Really, why should she? She fucks up she goes back to China, the world moves on, ok, no Canadian education, but it’s not like she’s going to integrate properly anyway. She fucked up, I get blamed, I just wasted $35,000, four years, and can’t get any more education because of the huge black mark on my folder. The professor never responded in any way. I don’t know if she ever spoke to the girl. The other students at MacEwan wondered why I was taking it so seriously.
I'm guessing the University makes you believe it because they believe it, while MacEwan just claims they do because they have to.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Rev
I called my bike dealership to get an accessory for my bike... random guy who I'm fairly certain I've never met answered the phone. When he asked my name, and I said Melina, he said "ah", like he had heard of me... like he knew who I was. I mean, yeah, I spent last Friday afternoon there hanging out... and I am going on a road trip with two guys who works there and a guy who is getting a custom bike there... but... seriously? random sales guy has heard of me? It's kind of cool and odd at the same time. I'm a 'regular' there now... apparently.
I mean... yeah, they have awesome customer service like that, whenever I was there any returning customer would be greated as they walked in the door with a yell "Hi Mr Smith, how are you today?" from the sales guys... but with bike number (each Ducati is a different size... not like some styles that have three versions of the 600, Ducati has a 620, 695 and 696) and name, he knew who I was.
I mean... yeah, they have awesome customer service like that, whenever I was there any returning customer would be greated as they walked in the door with a yell "Hi Mr Smith, how are you today?" from the sales guys... but with bike number (each Ducati is a different size... not like some styles that have three versions of the 600, Ducati has a 620, 695 and 696) and name, he knew who I was.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Weight of the World
There's these events in ones lives that feel like they contain the weight of the world. These can be big or little, seemingly important or irrelevant, but, for the person involved, they carry weight. I just went through one of these events.
If you know me, you know I hated my job, simple as that. I complained about it. A lot. I apologize to anyone who hated my complaining. So, be happy. Today was my last day at that job, YAY. To celebrate we're making a fire and having alcohol. It will be grand. I even bought Off so we don't get eaten alive.
The other weight on my shoulders was that of choosing a new job. I got two offers, both of which seemed quite interesting and it took me a week of deliberation and discussion to figure out which one will be better for me in the long run. Many qualities were similar and yet different, and both could lead to great things, in different ways. I am confident that I chose the right one. Now I get a week off, so, let the events begin. First, fire, then bar, then another bar, then passport office, then... well, I don't know. I guess there's a hostel in Banff that I could visit, or my friend in Saskatchewan who I have not seen in almost a year. Of course, there's also the house to clean and organize now that I've decided to stay here for a while still. And, professional clothes to buy. I'll be working downtown, so I have to look the part.
If you know me, you know I hated my job, simple as that. I complained about it. A lot. I apologize to anyone who hated my complaining. So, be happy. Today was my last day at that job, YAY. To celebrate we're making a fire and having alcohol. It will be grand. I even bought Off so we don't get eaten alive.
The other weight on my shoulders was that of choosing a new job. I got two offers, both of which seemed quite interesting and it took me a week of deliberation and discussion to figure out which one will be better for me in the long run. Many qualities were similar and yet different, and both could lead to great things, in different ways. I am confident that I chose the right one. Now I get a week off, so, let the events begin. First, fire, then bar, then another bar, then passport office, then... well, I don't know. I guess there's a hostel in Banff that I could visit, or my friend in Saskatchewan who I have not seen in almost a year. Of course, there's also the house to clean and organize now that I've decided to stay here for a while still. And, professional clothes to buy. I'll be working downtown, so I have to look the part.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Dilema
Since I moved to Calgary I have been casually applying to Human Resource Positions. In the past few months I made the decision to not continue with my current job and to seek a new one. Somehow I managed to get three interviews in a week when I had not had a single call (good) about my resume in the previous three months. Calls from Primerica do not count, they call everyone.
I had three interviews, Saturday, Monday and today, Thursday.
Saturday offered me a job on the spot, with job shadowing on Wednesday. On Thursday they called and offered me the position on a trial basis, with a permanent contract soon to follow.
Monday sent a set of tests to complete and reminded me on Thursday that I should do them. To me, this shows a lot of interest.
Thursday told me that they were only going to call the front runner for references, and shortly after 4pm, called me for references.
Which do I want?
Monday is out because it's lower level duties and lower level pay. Done.
Saturday is interesting, and has definite growth potential, should be pretty good pay and deals with helping people and is interesting, but has shitty unstable hours.
Thursday is exactly what I've wanted to do since I took the class that pertains to it and should have pretty good pay, but could be boring and repetitive in the long run.
I had three interviews, Saturday, Monday and today, Thursday.
Saturday offered me a job on the spot, with job shadowing on Wednesday. On Thursday they called and offered me the position on a trial basis, with a permanent contract soon to follow.
Monday sent a set of tests to complete and reminded me on Thursday that I should do them. To me, this shows a lot of interest.
Thursday told me that they were only going to call the front runner for references, and shortly after 4pm, called me for references.
Which do I want?
Monday is out because it's lower level duties and lower level pay. Done.
Saturday is interesting, and has definite growth potential, should be pretty good pay and deals with helping people and is interesting, but has shitty unstable hours.
Thursday is exactly what I've wanted to do since I took the class that pertains to it and should have pretty good pay, but could be boring and repetitive in the long run.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Body Type
Each type of person in my life tends to have a similar body type. My aunts are all short and a few extra pounds (good to know what I have to look forward to), my cousins are taller than the rest of the ladies in my family and mostly skinny, and my boyfriends tend to be large, solid guys. They're short or tall, but always solid. This makes me feel safe and protected. So, what happens when you meet someone by asking a seemingly harmless question, "What kind of motorbike do you ride?", without screening based on body type and other stated attributes? I had no intentions when I started this conversation, just saw a guy sitting on a bike that I couldn't place and wondered which bike it was.
Turns out that we have a lot in common and thoroughly enjoy each other’s company. He took me on my first motorcycle ride out of the city, we went to Bragg Creek and down Highway 66. It's absolutely gorgeous, and full of turns. It just feels weird giving him a hug because it's so out of the norm. Of course, it's not a big deal, it's not really worth mentioning, but, here I am, writing a post about it.
Have you ever put someone in a category, but then have them not fit the mold? Does it not throw you off? It's not going to change anything, but it will take some getting used to. On the plus side, he's much stronger than he looks.
Turns out that we have a lot in common and thoroughly enjoy each other’s company. He took me on my first motorcycle ride out of the city, we went to Bragg Creek and down Highway 66. It's absolutely gorgeous, and full of turns. It just feels weird giving him a hug because it's so out of the norm. Of course, it's not a big deal, it's not really worth mentioning, but, here I am, writing a post about it.
Have you ever put someone in a category, but then have them not fit the mold? Does it not throw you off? It's not going to change anything, but it will take some getting used to. On the plus side, he's much stronger than he looks.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Chivalry is dead?
On my way in and out of the building today I had to travel through a total of eight doors. I managed to open less than half of them, one of them I caught and just held open. Into the building (2), into secure area, out of secure area, into stairs, out of stairs and out of the building (2). On the way in, I was walking with two male officers, so, the first door was opened for me. The second door I had to literally fight with the guy to let me hold it open for him. Security door was all mine. Leaving this afternoon an Inspector was coming the other way. Now, Inspectors are very important people, i don't remember the exact statistics, but I'm pretty sure there aren't more than 200 of them in Canada. This guy, who I had heard rumour that he was smart and nice, opened the door, saw me, stepped back and waited for me to come the three meters to the door. As I was walking towards him he commented on how nice of a day it was outside, that the work day was gratefully almost over and wished me a good evening. I, of course, thanked him for the door and also wished him a good evening. Into the stairs was mine, but as I was about a quarter way down the first flight (two flights per floor) of stairs, I heard the second level door open (I'm on the third) and close. This is normally a large enough distance for the person ahead to quickly leave, assuming they are traveling at an equal or faster rate than the person behind them. I knew this guy, and I was traveling a little faster than him, but he was still a good flight ahead of me when he reached the main level door. This one was opened for me, as was the first one out of the building. the second one out of the building I held open for him, as is my custom. I commented on the door openings of the day and he responded with a quip that gentlemen still exist. We then continued with small talk based on the gorgeous weather (Oh Sun, how I have missed thee), wished each other good evenings and went on our merry ways.
However, his comment about there still being gentlemen got me thinking.
How often do guys hold open doors? It depends on the relationship, obviously, but even then. If he's trying to impress you, of course. Just going back, I think most guys who were nice to me in general have opened the door for me. They have also fought with me when I tried to hold open the second door for them.
How many girls expect their man, or any man to hold open the door, let them into and out of the elevator first? In my building, it happens all the time, I can't remember when a guy has stepped out before me, but, is this necessary? Sure, it's sometimes nice to be treated like a princess, but weren't we fighting for equality? Burning of the bra's and all that?
I guess it comes down to context and relationship, but guys, really. If I hold open a door for you, just say thanks and walk through. Don't fight it. I won't give in.
However, his comment about there still being gentlemen got me thinking.
How often do guys hold open doors? It depends on the relationship, obviously, but even then. If he's trying to impress you, of course. Just going back, I think most guys who were nice to me in general have opened the door for me. They have also fought with me when I tried to hold open the second door for them.
How many girls expect their man, or any man to hold open the door, let them into and out of the elevator first? In my building, it happens all the time, I can't remember when a guy has stepped out before me, but, is this necessary? Sure, it's sometimes nice to be treated like a princess, but weren't we fighting for equality? Burning of the bra's and all that?
I guess it comes down to context and relationship, but guys, really. If I hold open a door for you, just say thanks and walk through. Don't fight it. I won't give in.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
What to do?
Alright, so, it has been FOREVER since I've written regularly, I know, I know.
Things change, like, the formating of this blog... It changed and I don't know how to get it back. Alright, so that's a minor thing, even though I do miss it.
Change 1 - I moved out. Ok, so I moved to Calgary in January with a friend, things were going ok, but there was something wrong. I just wasn't happy in that place. So, I moved. It has been stressful and all that jazz, but it was for the better.
Change 2 - I gave up on waiting for my job to come through and started applying for new ones. Yes, there is a very good chance that I will get my current job as a permanent person, but then, one has to wonder, do I really want that job? The answer is... well, not really. Those who talk to me know, I complain about it all the time. I'm bored all the time, and it's really not challenging at all. I already streamlined it as much as they would let me.
Change 3 - I'm single. Yeah, I've been on and off again single for a while now, but now I'm putting in the effort, getting out there, meeting guys, going on dates, will be going for rides on the new bike with new people (once I finally get my bike fixed)
Part of Change 3, I'm never buying a used vehicle again. They cause too much trouble. New for me. I know people sell for a reason, usually because they know that the thing is going to explode in 200kms, and now I'm going to take that to heart and stop buying used stuff. Sure, every so often there's a good deal out there, but if it's too good, it's probably bad. I have heard about the purchase of 6 used vehicles in the last 6 months, one of them has not caused problems. Lesson learned, no used vehicles. Don't get me wrong, I love my Ducati, I could just do without the hole in the engine, and the shitty transmission.
Also, I have a new Blog on my Blogroll, Missed Manners, I've been reading it while at work, and it's really quite interesting. He has been writing fairly consistently for 4 years now. Someday I would like my blog to be like his or V's... just gotta work on the consistency and interesting topics bits of writing.
Things change, like, the formating of this blog... It changed and I don't know how to get it back. Alright, so that's a minor thing, even though I do miss it.
Change 1 - I moved out. Ok, so I moved to Calgary in January with a friend, things were going ok, but there was something wrong. I just wasn't happy in that place. So, I moved. It has been stressful and all that jazz, but it was for the better.
Change 2 - I gave up on waiting for my job to come through and started applying for new ones. Yes, there is a very good chance that I will get my current job as a permanent person, but then, one has to wonder, do I really want that job? The answer is... well, not really. Those who talk to me know, I complain about it all the time. I'm bored all the time, and it's really not challenging at all. I already streamlined it as much as they would let me.
Change 3 - I'm single. Yeah, I've been on and off again single for a while now, but now I'm putting in the effort, getting out there, meeting guys, going on dates, will be going for rides on the new bike with new people (once I finally get my bike fixed)
Part of Change 3, I'm never buying a used vehicle again. They cause too much trouble. New for me. I know people sell for a reason, usually because they know that the thing is going to explode in 200kms, and now I'm going to take that to heart and stop buying used stuff. Sure, every so often there's a good deal out there, but if it's too good, it's probably bad. I have heard about the purchase of 6 used vehicles in the last 6 months, one of them has not caused problems. Lesson learned, no used vehicles. Don't get me wrong, I love my Ducati, I could just do without the hole in the engine, and the shitty transmission.
Also, I have a new Blog on my Blogroll, Missed Manners, I've been reading it while at work, and it's really quite interesting. He has been writing fairly consistently for 4 years now. Someday I would like my blog to be like his or V's... just gotta work on the consistency and interesting topics bits of writing.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Catalyst
I've posted things and said they were catalytic before, and one of my friends disagreed with me on the definition of a catalyst. Therefore, in this post, a catalyst is an event that triggers other events.
Today's catalyst is being removed, by accident, as a pic mod. I have been doing less and less with the site for a year and a half, since I stopped being employed by the site. Every so often I would moderate some pictures and participate in a discussion. If I'm going to cut more ties, it might as well be now that something happened. I have asked to keep forum rank, because they're fun and I do most of them anyway.
Things change for a reason, whether it be moving out, moving away or finding a new hobby. These three things have impacted me greatly in the past little while, and so far the changes have been good. Hopefully the good changes will continue. If I don't get the job I interviewed for today, more, bigger changes are in store for me. I'll let you know.
Today's catalyst is being removed, by accident, as a pic mod. I have been doing less and less with the site for a year and a half, since I stopped being employed by the site. Every so often I would moderate some pictures and participate in a discussion. If I'm going to cut more ties, it might as well be now that something happened. I have asked to keep forum rank, because they're fun and I do most of them anyway.
Things change for a reason, whether it be moving out, moving away or finding a new hobby. These three things have impacted me greatly in the past little while, and so far the changes have been good. Hopefully the good changes will continue. If I don't get the job I interviewed for today, more, bigger changes are in store for me. I'll let you know.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Jail time for you
As many of you know, I was dealing with the cops when it came to child exploitation. I have finally heard about one of our biggest pervs. He is charged with three charges, total minimum sentencing will be over 20 years if he is convicted of all three. He's 58, and lives in Texas. He won't last a year.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Friends
So, what's a good friend? The song "Find out who your friends are" says it's someone who drops everything to help when you call regardless of the magnitude of the request.
In the past few days I've had confirmation that a couple people who I have considered good friends for a while indeed are very good friends, and I've found a new one. They answer the request, and ask questions later.
When there's an uncontrollable delay, he finds a more efficient way of fulfilling the request. Thank you E.
When there's a couple options, and I ask for a particular one, she says Sure. Thank you M.
When I drop a bombshell, she gives me a phone number so we can talk easier even though she's busy. Thank you A.
When I need anything else, a presence, a hug, someone to talk to, he goes three nights with little sleep. Thank you G.
The four of you have each contributed to making this easier, and it is much appreciated.
Also... I got a coffee from Starbucks this morning, and it had a feature called "The Way I See It" on the side. It appears to be quotes by authors and the such. I liked mine so here it is:
In a world where celebrity equals talent, and where make-believe is called reality, it is most important to have real love, truth and stability in your life.
In the past few days I've had confirmation that a couple people who I have considered good friends for a while indeed are very good friends, and I've found a new one. They answer the request, and ask questions later.
When there's an uncontrollable delay, he finds a more efficient way of fulfilling the request. Thank you E.
When there's a couple options, and I ask for a particular one, she says Sure. Thank you M.
When I drop a bombshell, she gives me a phone number so we can talk easier even though she's busy. Thank you A.
When I need anything else, a presence, a hug, someone to talk to, he goes three nights with little sleep. Thank you G.
The four of you have each contributed to making this easier, and it is much appreciated.
Also... I got a coffee from Starbucks this morning, and it had a feature called "The Way I See It" on the side. It appears to be quotes by authors and the such. I liked mine so here it is:
In a world where celebrity equals talent, and where make-believe is called reality, it is most important to have real love, truth and stability in your life.
Friends
So, what's a good friend? The song "Find out who your friends are" says it's someone who drops everything to help when you call regardless of the magnitude of the request.
In the past few days I've had confirmation that a couple people who I have considered good friends for a while indeed are very good friends, and I've found a new one. They answer the request, and ask questions later.
When there's an uncontrollable delay, he finds a more efficient way of fulfilling the request. Thank you E.
When there's a couple options, and I ask for a particular one, she says Sure. Thank you M.
When I drop a bombshell, she gives me a phone number so we can talk easier even though she's busy. Thank you A.
When I need anything else, a presence, a hug, someone to talk to, he goes three nights with little sleep. Thank you G.
The four of you have each contributed to making this easier, and it is much appreciated.
Also... I got a coffee from Starbucks this morning, and it had a feature called "The Way I See It" on the side. It appears to be quotes by authors and the such. I liked mine so here it is:
In a world where celebrity equals talent, and where make-believe is called reality, it is most important to have real love, truth and stability in your life.
In the past few days I've had confirmation that a couple people who I have considered good friends for a while indeed are very good friends, and I've found a new one. They answer the request, and ask questions later.
When there's an uncontrollable delay, he finds a more efficient way of fulfilling the request. Thank you E.
When there's a couple options, and I ask for a particular one, she says Sure. Thank you M.
When I drop a bombshell, she gives me a phone number so we can talk easier even though she's busy. Thank you A.
When I need anything else, a presence, a hug, someone to talk to, he goes three nights with little sleep. Thank you G.
The four of you have each contributed to making this easier, and it is much appreciated.
Also... I got a coffee from Starbucks this morning, and it had a feature called "The Way I See It" on the side. It appears to be quotes by authors and the such. I liked mine so here it is:
In a world where celebrity equals talent, and where make-believe is called reality, it is most important to have real love, truth and stability in your life.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
April 10
Alright, so it's nice out, the grass is starting to get green even though it was a very dry winter. Then this morning my car is covered with an inch and a half of snow. Ok, fine. It keeps snowing. I went out for lunch and had to push a good 10 inches of wet snow off my car. Around noon it stopped snowing. YAY. Temperature goes above 0. Ok, so it was 1 above, but hey, melting can start. 4pm, it starts snowing again. There's huge wet snowflakes falling, the trees are covered in snow, and you can't see the top of my car anymore. It has been parked for 20 minutes. It is still supposed to be 20 above on sunday so I will be riding this weekend... but gees. On the good side, we did really need the moisture, there was already a fire ban in place.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Private: Heart Break
Has it ever happened to you that in a single action by another you can quite literally feel your heart break? Like a tear deep in your chest, it slowly rips from top to bottom.
The action can be simple, a smile at someone else, flinching away from a touch, turning over to face the other way in bed. It is rarely the first action in a series of events, but can easily be the last. The action is often so small, so seemingly inconsequential that the person who did it won't even remember.
What do you do when this is a common occurence, but due to other circumstances you can not, and don't want to, leave? How do you survive the torture of your heart breaking every month? every week? every day? What if you don't want to be set free, but just for the heart break to stop?
How do you tell someone that you want them to stay, and you wish they would stop causing your heart to break? How do you find the courage to say something when in the past they have always told you that your feelings are wrong?
How do you admit to yourself that you are in an emotionally abusive relationship?
The action can be simple, a smile at someone else, flinching away from a touch, turning over to face the other way in bed. It is rarely the first action in a series of events, but can easily be the last. The action is often so small, so seemingly inconsequential that the person who did it won't even remember.
What do you do when this is a common occurence, but due to other circumstances you can not, and don't want to, leave? How do you survive the torture of your heart breaking every month? every week? every day? What if you don't want to be set free, but just for the heart break to stop?
How do you tell someone that you want them to stay, and you wish they would stop causing your heart to break? How do you find the courage to say something when in the past they have always told you that your feelings are wrong?
How do you admit to yourself that you are in an emotionally abusive relationship?
Friday, March 21, 2008
Private: No Regrets
It is a well know idea that you should live your life with no regrets.
Your friends will often try to tell you what they think their "No Regrets" life is, and if yours is different, here comes the peer pressure.
You're so young, why do you act like you're 30?
So, what happens when you finally cave to the peer pressure, take the leap, do something crazy and stupid and act your own age? What if you regret the path you took while you were living with no regrets? What if you don't realize your mistake before the mistake can't be taken back? Now you regret the life you chose, and you have no way to get back to the life you lived.
Just because I wasn't currently being a stupid teenager does not mean that I didn't at one point act like a stupid teenager. Maybe I just got over it faster than you. Maybe six months at 18 was enough for me. Why does someone else have the right to tell me that at 22 I should still be young, stupid and free? Why couldn't I have been strong enough to tell them to go to hell and live my life the way that I actually wanted to live it?
When I was ten, or so, I figured out that there was a small trend in my family, every 9 years there was a baby born. I'm the second in the chain, and now there's four of us. So, I decided I wanted a baby at 27, assuming I had a husband and stability. I was unconsciously working towards that in my life. It was the one goal that I had. And, I destroyed it due to a little peer pressure. I currently have no hope of being settled, again, enough in three years to be pregnant.
So, what do you do when all you have is regrets and lost dreams?
I wish I knew.
Your friends will often try to tell you what they think their "No Regrets" life is, and if yours is different, here comes the peer pressure.
You're so young, why do you act like you're 30?
So, what happens when you finally cave to the peer pressure, take the leap, do something crazy and stupid and act your own age? What if you regret the path you took while you were living with no regrets? What if you don't realize your mistake before the mistake can't be taken back? Now you regret the life you chose, and you have no way to get back to the life you lived.
Just because I wasn't currently being a stupid teenager does not mean that I didn't at one point act like a stupid teenager. Maybe I just got over it faster than you. Maybe six months at 18 was enough for me. Why does someone else have the right to tell me that at 22 I should still be young, stupid and free? Why couldn't I have been strong enough to tell them to go to hell and live my life the way that I actually wanted to live it?
When I was ten, or so, I figured out that there was a small trend in my family, every 9 years there was a baby born. I'm the second in the chain, and now there's four of us. So, I decided I wanted a baby at 27, assuming I had a husband and stability. I was unconsciously working towards that in my life. It was the one goal that I had. And, I destroyed it due to a little peer pressure. I currently have no hope of being settled, again, enough in three years to be pregnant.
So, what do you do when all you have is regrets and lost dreams?
I wish I knew.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Motorbike Season
Well, the season is fast approaching... well, here in Calgary it is at least. There are bikes to be painted, modified, fixed and put back together better than they were before. This season should be pretty fun. I got one of the best bikes (in design and style), and it's even a mock race bike. Alright, so it's a 2002 Honda CBR600f4i Repsol Racing bike, from the last year they made split seats... so I'm pretty sure it was '02. We even managed to get Repsol plastics. Once the plastics come in, we are going to paint the tank and the rims, and then put it all back together. There's a couple pieces that need to be ordered to finish it off. Realistically, it should be done mid-April. I can't wait.
Now, this bike is a lot more powerful than the one I was riding last year. It deserves a lot more respect because it can kill me that much easier. All in all, I'm looking forward to getting the new bike rolling.
Now, this bike is a lot more powerful than the one I was riding last year. It deserves a lot more respect because it can kill me that much easier. All in all, I'm looking forward to getting the new bike rolling.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Private: I wondered
A while ago, I wondered how people fell so far into debt. It didn't make sense to me. Spend only what you have, it seemed so simple. There are the obvious exceptions like houses and cars, paying cash for a house is hard. But, buy a house that fits your life and your budget, and you'll be fine.
My upbringing wasn't typical, my parents worked hard and saved everything. We never went on trips, except to visit family in Europe, only half of which I could understand. I saved my money, bought a property at age 20. This was, of course, the smart thing to do. I provided stability, and I had heard enough about the economy and the current housing market to know that it would be a great investment. So, there I was, 20, with a mortgage, tuition, and a job that barely covered the two. Luckily family bailed me out.
How my life is a lie, such a big lie. I've been bailed out twice. Here I am, writing about how people fall into debt, and I would be long screwed if I hadn't been bailed out twice. I know how you fall into debt, you're vain, you want to appear better than you are, appear to have your life together, appear successful. Why would you do this? Why not be yourself? Well, because if you were yourself, you would be the failure of the family and a dissapointment to said family, and yourself. But, your family must love you for who you are... well, yeah, you'd think so.... but for some reason sucess, having your own company, or at least being good at something has been drilled into me. And yet, I got kicked out of university, I managed to finish a diploma, but can't get an interview with a good company for that field. By all measures of what I feel I'm measured against, I'm a failure.
Being ok at everything and good at nothing gets you nowhere, I've discovered. You have to be good at something to make a life for yourself. I don't know what I'm good at, I don't know what I want with my life. I know that I don't like my life now, and I want it to change, but I don't see a way out. I'm not asking to be bailed out, I can't, I'm 22, I moved away to be independent, and yet I'm dependent on the sale of my property and the alleged income from a family profit to keep me affloat. I figured out that I will pay rent, my last mortage payment and my credit card bill, and I'll have nothing left in the bank. Well, as close to nothing as you can get while still being able to afford the gas to go to work.
So, yes, money was imporant growing up, but when I was young, I was able to save a lot easier, starting to work at 14 and not spending much helped. It gave me my first property. But, then, at 22, somehow I managed to go from over 20 thousand in the bank to in debt, and losing money every month in less than a year. How the hell does a supposedly smart kid without a drug or gambling habit, hell, I don't even smoke, and barely drink anymore, lose almost 40 thousand in a year?
And, how does said smart kid get out of said hole without appearing like a very stupid child? I'll let you know when I figure it out.
My upbringing wasn't typical, my parents worked hard and saved everything. We never went on trips, except to visit family in Europe, only half of which I could understand. I saved my money, bought a property at age 20. This was, of course, the smart thing to do. I provided stability, and I had heard enough about the economy and the current housing market to know that it would be a great investment. So, there I was, 20, with a mortgage, tuition, and a job that barely covered the two. Luckily family bailed me out.
How my life is a lie, such a big lie. I've been bailed out twice. Here I am, writing about how people fall into debt, and I would be long screwed if I hadn't been bailed out twice. I know how you fall into debt, you're vain, you want to appear better than you are, appear to have your life together, appear successful. Why would you do this? Why not be yourself? Well, because if you were yourself, you would be the failure of the family and a dissapointment to said family, and yourself. But, your family must love you for who you are... well, yeah, you'd think so.... but for some reason sucess, having your own company, or at least being good at something has been drilled into me. And yet, I got kicked out of university, I managed to finish a diploma, but can't get an interview with a good company for that field. By all measures of what I feel I'm measured against, I'm a failure.
Being ok at everything and good at nothing gets you nowhere, I've discovered. You have to be good at something to make a life for yourself. I don't know what I'm good at, I don't know what I want with my life. I know that I don't like my life now, and I want it to change, but I don't see a way out. I'm not asking to be bailed out, I can't, I'm 22, I moved away to be independent, and yet I'm dependent on the sale of my property and the alleged income from a family profit to keep me affloat. I figured out that I will pay rent, my last mortage payment and my credit card bill, and I'll have nothing left in the bank. Well, as close to nothing as you can get while still being able to afford the gas to go to work.
So, yes, money was imporant growing up, but when I was young, I was able to save a lot easier, starting to work at 14 and not spending much helped. It gave me my first property. But, then, at 22, somehow I managed to go from over 20 thousand in the bank to in debt, and losing money every month in less than a year. How the hell does a supposedly smart kid without a drug or gambling habit, hell, I don't even smoke, and barely drink anymore, lose almost 40 thousand in a year?
And, how does said smart kid get out of said hole without appearing like a very stupid child? I'll let you know when I figure it out.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
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