Tuesday, March 30, 2010

A Mouse In Our House

It's true, we are infested. But just a little bit. As in, one mouse. And I know, I know that there is no such thing as a singular mouse, but we have cleaned the house top to bottom, and found no other mice, not even one nugget of poop. Is it possible that we had a mouse just dash through our kitchen as he stayed one night to review us for TripAdvisor? I suppose not. And laugh at me if you must, but I'm going to get one of those humane traps, because if there's one thing I don't want to deal with, it's throwing out dead mouse bodies.

Our cat is absolutely no help. I blame it on his upbringing, how I reared him to lie on the couch watching Project Runway and Intervention in a semi-conscious state. Being so sucked into the idiot box that any movement seen out of the corner of one's eye is brushed off with a "meh, it's probably my contacts".

In other news, I am working like a crazy woman, and trying to get (a) the show and (b) the workshop with The Producing Theatre Company off the ground. I have no idea why I am organizing the workshop. Well, I'm not organizing it as much as I am being the cattle prod that ensures it gets done and I don't get emails like "Oh, by the way, we're having a workshop tomorrow, the actors and I will see you there." I want people to be organized like me! And I'm not that organized! Yesterday in the wake of house-mouse-driven-house-cleaning, I was opening mail from 2 months ago that I just hadn't bothered to open. Pay stubs and bank statements. And thinking I should get a shredder, because I'm pretty sure my method of tearing things up into bits, mixing them up and pouring old salad dressing over everything (to gross out identity thieves) is neither efficient nor protective.

I've been trying to stay on track, foodwise. Part of me feels like it's useless, because the scale really hasn't budged in, oh, about, 2 months, despite exercise and good eating. And sometimes part of me feels like I can do it. It's not clear which side is going to win here.

Anyway, I am off to the eye doctor's, where they put tainted q-tips and paper strips on my eyeballs, and then my pupils get big like I'm on drugs and I try to find my way home, looking mysterious and old-Hollywood in my sunglasses. Or I assume I will. I won't really be able to see.

Cheers, friends!

Saturday, March 27, 2010

I did it!

Are you wondering what exactly it is that I did? Especially since I seem to start so many things and never talk about finishing them? Well, yesterday I took advantage of having a day off, and trucked myself down to Fabricland where I bought a membership, some fabric, and these two patterns!

They are McCall's 5631, and Simplicity 2501, a skirt and blouse respectively. Initially I just wanted a blouse pattern, since I've never really made one, and I thought it would be a good wardrobe-builder for work clothes. But I just couldn't resist a cute skirt. Mine won't be the view in the photo, it's going to be plainer with just overstitching on the hem.

In retrospect, I should probably have gotten fabrics that matched so I could wear them together, but I have a hard time with decisions to begin with, much less picking two things that will also go together.

Of course I don't know when I'm going to have time to start something new-- I think this may have to wait until closer to summer-- at least until the show opens.

But I do recommend the Fabricland membership to anyone who's going to be buying fabrics-- the discount totally paid for itself on my first visit. Plus now I get cheap cheap patterns-- so I'm going to wait until those awesome vintage Vogue and Butterick patterns go on sale. Dramatic Joan Crawford-style ladies' hats, anyone?

Monday, March 22, 2010

Customers Who I Do Not Prefer

1. The passive-aggressive customer who finds smug and "subtle" ways to point out his superiority to the CSR, alternating with painting himself as the victim of the CSR's trickery.

2. The yeller. Not to be confused with the profanitizer, who is also not a preferred customer of mine.

3. The loud talker. Ms. Loud Talker, allow me to introduce you to one of our premium products called "The Inside Voice". Has anyone ever said to you "I'm right here in the same room with you? Really? In any case, being on the phone with you is not only like being in the same room together, it's being in the same room and speaking directly into each other's ears. So pipe down, wouldya?"

4. The eater. Now, I haven't had any in-person customers eat while we conduct our transaction, but I can't imagine it would gross me out nearly as much as hearing someone eat while talking to them on the phone. "I'd like to order some tickets? "

5. S/He Who Thinks I Have Power. Or That It's All My Fault. I mean, I do have some power. Customers, you should really know that. Just as waitresses have the power to decide how much spit makes it into your meal, CSR's have some ability to proverbially spit into your file. Or at the very least, we sometimes have the power to make exceptions for you. But no matter how unjustly you feel you've been treated, no matter how much I seem not to understand the unfairness of it all, tearing a strip off me will not make your life any easier. It will not get your problem solved any faster. And really, ask yourself this: how likely is it that someone with any decision-making, policy-shaping abilities is going to be the one you're talking to at 7:55 pm on a Friday night?

6. The ATVIP. That's the Assistant To the VIP. And yes, I feel slightly guilty for calling out assistants here. I've been an assistant many times over the years. But certain executive assistants call in, on behalf of their bosses, who may be city councillors, or oil executives or judges, or someone else who is too busy with lofty matters to attend to real life, and act like I should have a big red button that stops everything. They drop names like I should gasp in awe, thanking my lucky stars for the chance to serve one so exalted. They get impatient if I ask how to spell the VIP's name. They're always in a hurry. They have to check with their boss, who they refer to as "My Minister" or "his Honour" or "his Excellency" or some other title. And a lot of times I get the feeling that they're ticked that I didn't sense their call coming, and have everything done and waiting for their stamp of approval.

7. The Crazies. OK, the Crazies would probably be my most preferred customers of this group. They can be entertaining, at least. Like the lady who wanted me to change her phone number because the people in her walls were reporting her to the CIA, but I wasn't allowed to say her new phone number out loud, because the people in her walls would hear it, and then she'd just have to get her number changed all over again. Or the guy who came in to the box office (he had an assistant crazy person, a guy who followed him around and said "yeah! yeah!" and repeated the last couple of words in this guy's sentences) and told me he was donating $100 million dollars to the paper to give scholarships for my children, and could he leave these torn polaroids inserted into various brochures in the lobby because the RCMP would know where to find missing kids, and by the way, I should never go to Tim Horton's because of his impending lawsuit about a shooting there.

8. The Everyone's-A-Suspect. Now, I don't like being called at home either, and of course I try to let businesses I deal with know that. And of course I try to limit some of the personal information I give out about myself. But I try to maintain a standard across the board. Like, if I wouldn't give you my phone number, I'm probably not going to give you my video store password. And I certainly wouldn't give you my wifi password. And so on. But if you're going to say "God! Don't you have my credit card on file?" and then sarcastically read the digits to me, you can't freak out and scream at me because I asked you if the address we have on file is correct. In fact, if you freak out and scream at me saying I have no right to your address, you really shouldn't call back in a month later demanding to know why you never got your subscription package.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Hey, y'all...

And due to the accursed limitations of the medium, you'll just have to imagine the "Oh,hay, y'awwll!" inflection, tinged with a mixture of sadness and guilt. I've been a negligent blogger. It seems that you can divide my blog posts into a couple of different categories here: non-posting guilt, and feeling more/less fat posts.

How terrible is that, y'all?
But seriously. Nothing happens to me. I'm currently working a minimum of 12 hours a day, split between two jobs. Any concept of nutrition I ever had has gone out the window. (This lead to the unfortunate veggie sandwich incident, where in my cravings for actual vegetables I decided to try a different place at the food court on my way to job #1. Thank you, giant chunk of tuna salad right in the middle of my sandwich! Mmm, mmm good!)

I am stressed. Terribly stressed, in fact. In that I currently have many expectations piled on me (including a show in 2 months, har har har), and I am constantly working and never doing anything I want to do. With no real end in sight. Oh, until mid-June, when there will be some serious relaxing happening. I'm talking margaritas and gin and tonics while eating 7-layer-dip and wearing those shorts that I would never be seen in publicly relaxing.

Did I just say that? Clearly that is not a healthy-lifestyle thought. Once in a while, though...

Things that have happened:
I found out I have two cavities that need to be filled. Eek. I could probably put it off for a while, but I figure I should just get it over with.

We have a car! It's an old car, that a darling friend has sold us for $1. Of course, we have to get it inspected, insured, and registered, but eventually there will be wonderful, wonderful freedom!

I'm going to try and make some time to get to Fabricland and get some fabric and a membership and get back to sewing. I've been reading all about the fabulous projects on Sew Retro, and those folks blow me away!

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Anyone home?

Yes, I haven't been here in a while. Not for lack of spending time on the computer. Writing some online content, trying to make some cash. Sending copies of the script to people who should really have had script copies sent to them months ago. Oops! And that's not including my various blog reading and fuck-offery that I usually do on the internet. So you can see why I haven't had time to keep up.

Nothing much is new. Still working jobs#1 and 2, except now I'm in charge of the rest of the project at Job 2. Which sounds important, but is actually not that important, because there's a lot of cogs in that wheel. However, this week I'm working 12 hours a day minimum, making it tough to get in the 30 Day Shred. It's way easier NOT to fit it into my day, which is something I need to deal with.

Singing: argh. Blerg. Poop! The required musculature has been taken over by various heffalumps and woozles, subconscious, psychological, obstinate, or otherwise.

I saw this Andy Warhol quote on someone else's blog, and I thought it just espoused one of my life's philosophies so well:

"They always say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself."

I just want to carve that into a pumpkin, or put it on a cake, or spell it out with alphagetti. I'm not sure why that would give it more meaning (well, other than giving it more weight... Hey-oh!). Perhaps it's best not to examine that too closely.

Be back sooner, all.