Yup it could happen, and snap!!

 Just finished watching ''Hunhinged" with Russell Crowe, the blurb of the movie is:   After a confrontation with an unstable man at an intersection, a woman becomes the target of his rage.

O.M.F.G. what a lunatic!  The story/acting isn't that great, but the violence and stunt work were quite creative and surprising!  Road rage at the max.  There was one scene, where a woman was driving while applying mascara in traffic, and I turned to Hubby and said:  She deserved to be hit (by a car), and man oh man, did he ram into her car.  It was satisfying to see, because I did (and most likely will again, I'm pretty sure) have thoughts and even visions of ramming our old Civic into a moron  who cut me off or pulled a bone headed move on the road. 

I've been feeling crap, yes the time of year plays into it, the lack of sun, the confinement, name it, and add it to the list.  We are all tired of it all.  I get that.  At times I feel like I could become unhinged too, maybe not to the level of Crowe in the movie, but then again, we he says she should have given him a little courtesy tap (on the horn) rather than hitting it aggressively the way she did, because he wasn't moving from the green light, I got that.  I understood what he meant.  I find that people are driving more and more aggressively, and so much faster than a few years ago.  People are often distracted because of their damn cell phones, or shaving while driving, or putting on make up, or turning to look at the back seat passengers... all those things which take away from they attention being on the road, where it really should be.  I've had a few accidents from people who hit me, while I was stop at a red light on more than one occasions.  Once it was an old man who never slowed down on a boulevard and ram into my car without hitting the breaks.  He didn't have a license anymore and yet, he drove and totaled my car, and as of result of that impact, my uterus flipped.  Another time, some guy hit me, while I was also stopped at a red light, and also totaled my car - he was distracted because he was planning his upcoming vacation on his phone.  Once a little Chinese man ran a red light and hit me as I crossed a street, because he was distracted looking for an address... 

Whatever the reasons, each time, my trust in other drivers diminished and now I wish I had a roobar on our car, so I would feel "protected" somewhat...  

We are more aggressive, less tolerant, and ridiculously feeling entitled, so that make us all a lethal combination when behind the wheel of a car.

I already have any fuse left in me; between my hormones being all over the board, the menopause not giving me any break, the lack of sleep and throw in, for shits and giggles, the family issues and you get me naturally pissed off. Put me behind the wheel of a card, and who knows I might happen to anyone...

It does scare me (Yeah, I scare myself!) at times, when I see how little I need to fuel my fire, to go from zero to 60 in no time flat, but also I see that (for now) I lose my shit verbally. I will raise my voice, talk loud, but (I don't think I do) I don't scream as such.  I talk loud, say things that don't come out nicely nor calmly, and yes I do fucking swear.  Once I've said what I had to get off my chest, I go back to "normal" (whatever that may be).  I've tried (and still do at times, to control that anger often simmering on the back burner.  I feel like I've have enough of people's bullshit and entitlement.  The pendulum is going back too far on the other side.  Telling someone that they are doing or did something wrong is almost impossible these days.  When you do you are called a bully or controlling.  We can't say anything without offending someone.  And don't get me started on the bleeding hearts.  I've have an exchanged (via messenger) last week, with someone who thought it wasn't nice of me to vent about the fact that I've received a piece of Chinese Calligraphy paper rather than a postcard through Postcrossing.  I thanked the sender, mentioned the nice stamp, and also reminded him politely about what was Postcrossing, as indicated on the site:

The goal of this project is to allow anyone to send and receive postcards from all over the world!

I knew that by mentioning my disappointment about the piece of paper that some would comment. I was told I should show more appreciation to the fact that they made an effort to send me something, that maybe they couldn't afford a card, that maybe that was all they add.  My knee jerk reaction was to ask, then, why would someone, voluntarily signed up for Postcrossing to send postcards if they can't afford it?  Why would someone send a piece of paper rather than a postcard?  They couldn't afford one, then they shouldn't send anything.  I know I'm black or white, but if I sign up to play hockey and show up with a broom rather than a stick chances are the other players will not want me to play or to play with them.  Should we feel appreciative that the player tried and showed up with a broom, when they clearly know from the start that they signed up for hockey?  I want postcards, don't care the sizes, the shapes nor the material used for it, but not a piece of paper.  Call me intransigent, cold, name it, I don't care I signed up for Postcrossing wanting to send and receive postcards, and damnit when I don't get that, I will get upset!

Speaking of postcards, Saturday I hosted a virtual Postcrossing meetup and we were, at the peak, 45 participants from all over, including Canadians (23), Belgium, Germany, France, Italy, Netherlands, Norway, Philippines, US, Ireland, UK, Sweden.  Some I've met in real life, pre-covid, and some online and some were totally new.  It lasted five hours, and actually ran quite smoothly overall.  I was concerned how it would be to manage such a large group, but it went well considering everything!  That was a really good way to spend a Saturday afternoon catching up with others sharing the same interests.  It was my first virtual meet international, and will not be the last one I think.

This week will be an "interesting" week to say the least, lots going on with the Father in Law... should be interesting and hoping for the best.

Until things settle down for him all around, we have to manage.  So stay safe and watch out for the covidiots, they're everywhere and they are many of them!!

Was I on Sesame Street?

Hi Y'all!  (I guess I've been watching "Big Brother" a little too much and picked up on the y'all, could be worst... I think?!)

Been feeling the need to write/vent or whatever it is I do on here, for a while, and after spending an evening and a full day with relatives (you know, those folks you see at either weddings or funerals?), the need was felt once again. I don't know if it is simply because I am getting old...er, but I'm realizing that there are things I do care less about.  At one point, last Saturday, I was sitting among cousins and this realization hit me, I felt out of place, or beyond what was being said around me.  It is not that I was not understanding or empathizing with what was being said, no, it was more like a complete detachment and also this desire to refrain from standing up and telling them to shut the fuck up, to let go of the past and to move the fuck on. (Excuse the language, I've also been watching "The Ranch"). 

My father's side of the family is/was... let's say... hmmm... somewhat crazy... not the most tender, demonstrative, loving people.  All of them were to some extend abusive, both physically and verbally.  I know first hand the power of words, and how they can affect us.  I also know the power of a good whooping.  No matter what anyone can say, I do think there are times when one is deserved, and when done in a reasonable fashion (read: not with a hammer, or a whip) a good wack on the bum will straighten you (You don't believe me, ask Ana in Fifty Shades! - joking!).  That being said, I don't think that when it comes to bedroom games, unlike Ana and Christian.  

We all have horror stories, things we remember that were done or said to us growing up.  While listening to the conversations around me it was obvious that some of us never got over the "abuse".  For whatever reason they got stuck on "my father hit me" and "my mother said".  True, I've been hurt too.  But at some point in time, I made the conscious decision to move on, for whatever reason and as hard as it has been, because it was/is not always easy, I did manage to move on.  At times I asked for professional help, tried different things, read many self-help books, whatever could help me to move on, because I did not want to be a victim of how I was brought up.  I knew, deep down, that whatever happened or was happening at the time, was not determining who I would be in the future or make me a victim, I was more than a kid whose father was rough with.  Granted there are some things that were/are harder to get over, feelings hurt so deep that I was/am not completely ready to let go yet.  Those are mine to work on.  And I do.  Or at least I try.

We all portray ourselves a certain way, to hide our insecurities or whatever, but to hear a cousin who is a good ten+ years older than me talk about how she was always being compared to her older sister growing up and how her mom disapprove of her , etc. was sad.  It was sad to see this woman who I always thought of as a carefree person who did what she wanted, to be so vulnerable and full of self doubts and even bitterness towards her mother was something else.  I know that aunt was tough, like the rest of the family.  I'm not trying to excuse their behaviors, far from it.  I'm only trying to grasp how someone can choose to hang on to such resentment for that long.  I chose to break free.  I'm also choosing to remain free.  I think it would be easy to fall back to being the victim, the "poor" kid who endured such horrible pains and/or words.

People often think of me as harsh, I am. I have lots of mordant... I guess that between the way I was raised, the area where I grew up and twenty+ years of martial arts, I've developed this thick skin. It could have some prickles here and there, protective measures?!   I'm sarcastic and I can also be pleasant, if I choose to.  I believe it is all a question of choice: to choose how we hang on or let go and move on, all the while enjoying the moment...  Life would be/is so much lighter this way.  Who needs all that baggage, really?  Because deep down, in the long run, nobody gets out alive, so might as well make the most of it daily and live for the present, 'cause it is a gift! ;-)

Thank you! Fuck You! Bye!

Whenever I think I've seen it all, as far as stupidity goes, or worst when I think that people can NOT be THAT stupid, one more person comes along to prove me wrong...  It never fails!

Let me do my best Sophia (for the Golden Girls) impression:  Let me tell you a story, picture it! Montréal, 2018.  An attractive condo owner, who was also involved in administrating her condo association, made sure to share a bunch of information with her co-owners because, deep down, she knew most of them didn't really care about the rules and regulations as long as it was taken care of.  By someone else, of course.  In order to prevent many questions, she even put together a one page document (did her best to keep it as simple as possible), explaining certain responsibilities these folks had to assume. 

Imagine her surprise when one of the co-owners sent questions her way about something clearly written about on the document she sent a little more than a week before. She did remain calm, and did manage to remind the person of their responsibilities and role within the association and was pretty clear at letting them know they should clearly RTFM.

I don't know if my message went through, but man oh man, did I talk to myself.  Unreal.  People who have spent almost half a million dollars on a house to be so clueless is beyond me.  It is not rocket science.  They are rules, there are roles to be played by different people and yet, that seems to be too much.

Then, to add to my stupid of the day, in a group I manage, I'm told one person wants out.  So I ask why. (OK, that was my bad!  I'm not exempt from being stupid either, obviously!).  You see, in this group we send and receive things (read postcards, mostly).  I created that group based on a bigger group, an official group, let's say.  In that official group, whenever you receive something you have to register it.  The way the site is set up, you can (strongly suggested) write a note to the sender thanking them or whatever.  For each item received you need to register it.  Some people don't, because people are assholes like that, but generally speaking more items sent do get acknowledged when received. 

So, in this little group I manage items are being sent and received as well. As for the the official group, some members are assholes too.  When that one person she wanted out because she felt it was overwhelming to have to acknowledge reception and was taking the fun out of the activity, I could not really bite my tongue.  I did tell her that it was no different than the official group... she gets that we have different views on this... Really?  There are different ways of looking at things... No shit!  Talk about being one of those ass wipes who loves to receive but never says thank you.  One of those people who takes but rarely gives.  One of those who complain but never get fucking involved.  One of those who as long as they are happy everything is fine. 

Yep, really, it's been that kind of day, covered in a nice thin layer of ice to top it all off!  Just a fucking perfect stupid day!

Venting Session

I feel the need to write, the need to express my frustrations, but at the same time, can't help and wonder why I should bother, since no matter what, I'm the meanie, the one who's so rough, abrupt, and/or lacking gentleness?  I have no fucking fuse left, sorry people, you burned it all out.  Yep, I can no longer be patient with dumb asses.
 
Last week I had to deal with the builder's rep for a smell issue we've been having coming from our shower drain.  We googled the issue, saw what the interweb was saying about such problem, and contacted our builder to have it looked at, because unlike what they are trying to tell us, it is not normal.  When the rep kept on trying to tell me that it was because the drain needed to be cleaned of hair and other residue, which is bogus since if it was full of hair and others, it wouldn't drain, and it does, I raised the tone.  Her explanations were ridiculous, and told her so.  That is a BIG faux-pas, you can not EVER raise your voice, oh no, that is too threatening and oh so disrespectful. I'm sorry but when I'm being talked to as if I'm a child not understanding something because it is way too complicated for my little brain, I will react.  I wear my emotions on my sleeves,  good and bad, so no surprise there if  my tone reflects that.

We are now in a society where we can no longer express ourselves.  You can not say anything negative, or you will be perceived as a meanie. We have to give everyone a chance, and be nice about it.  I have a REAL hard time with that.  I call a spade a spade.  This political correctness is total bullshit. I'm one who believes that if your job is to deliver my mail, you should be doing it without me having to remind you that my mail should not be folded or rained on or even written on.  That is YOUR job to make sure I get my mail in one piece.  So, the day that you fold my mail or write on it, don't be surprise if I report your sorry ass to your boss - granted I know they won't do much about it - you have ONE job, and I should "remind" you to take care of my mail, and not to write on it?  Really?  Sorry, I don't think so.



I'm trying to be more tolerant. I am. I keep quiet and choose to remain silent rather than say something.  It is hard. I'm fighting with my nature big time.  I try to remain calm, and at times I do succeed.  Maybe I should not live in society, maybe I should live in a very remote area with nobody around, and keep to myself... Even then, I've been trying to keep to myself more, and yet, like Hubby often says, they are everywhere and they find me!

Care too much, get hurt too easily

I turned fifty last November, so I'm not only an adult but I'm an old one.  Yet, at times, like right now, I feel like a fucking child in regards to my mother.  I've always known my mother to be the weak one in my parents' couple.  My dad was loud, abusive and very assertive and my mom was quiet, and very tame.  My father controlled everything, so she went along and never really making any decision for herself or even me, really.  When my father passed I thought it would be an occasion for her to assert herself, to become stronger and to decide what she wanted.  Boy, was I wrong!  After my father's death I realized that she was also a dependent woman, she needed to be with someone, she just couldn't be alone.  It sadden me, and still does.  I do understand that not everyone is able or rather want to be alone, I (sort of) get that, but at the same time it infuriates me and let's be honest, it hurts me too, when I see that she can't decide what she wants.

When we got married, back in 2000, I did ask my mother to come shop for my wedding dress with me.  She lives one hour away from town, and doesn't drive in town, so she would have to be driven by her beau. This was about nine months after my father's death.  I suggested to pick her up along the way, or for him to drop her off, but she wanted him to come with her and wait in the car.  I refused thinking it was ridiculous to have this old man sitting in a car, in January, waiting while I was trying on dresses.  She insisted and when I kept on saying it was ridiculous, she gave me an ultimatum: he would wait or she wouldn't come.  So I told her to stay home, I would go shopping with a friend.  And I did.  She wasn't happy about that, and even had an attitude with my friend for "having taken her place", but I reminded her (on a few occasions) that she gave up that role and chose to stay home.

I was hurt by how it was more important for her to have her beau with her, than to share in my big moment.  I won't even go into her attending our wedding in Hawaii. That was something else too.

A few years back, for her birthday, I decided to surprise her by taking her away just the two of us, for a night away at a spa.  I had to skip one of my class to get to her place the night before, so we could have dinner together, before making our way to the spa.  She had told me she would wait for me for dinner so we could eat together.  When I got to her place, she was playing cards with her new beau (a new one, since the other from the wedding died).  I was a bit surprise to see that there was no food on the stove or anything.  She asked if I had eaten. WTF?  Her beau had come over and they had dinner together.  She forgot that we had made plans.  She had even forgotten that we were going away for a night.  The whole time we were at the spa, she would check her phone to see if he had called.  It felt like I was with a teenager in love rather than my mother.

Move forward to just now, which prompted this post, she will be turning 75 years old in June.  Since she likes to swim, and massages etc. I decided to, again, offer her/us a get away, mother/daughter for a night, with spa, massage, facial, pedi/mani, the load.  I would pick her up, drive there and be pampered for a day with good food etc. I've asked her if she had plans for her birth day, and then told her to reserve me that day and night.  I made all arrangements.  Today she calls me to tell me that she's not feeling good.  She feels stuck between her beau and me.  I should have verified with him if he had any plans for her birthday, as well. Maybe I should, my bad, but at the same time, I did ask her if she was available before booking anything.  Anyway, she doesn't want to upset anyone and feels bad. Really?  She was away from October to March, in Florida, with her beau, and can't be away from him (or him from her) for one fucking day/night, and she feels torn?  I'm not only pissed off, but I'm hurt.  I've told her when she was asking if I was upset, that once again I got to know my place.  I know where I stand in regards to her.  I come after her beau.  Despite my best efforts to let go, it hurts. The kid in me feels rejected sort of.  I will do my best to apply this rule of mine, to treat family as I do friends, and tolerate the same.  Now I have to ask myself, if a friend did to me or treated me the way my mom does at times, would I tolerate it?  Would I still contact that friend and try to get together?  I know the answer to that, and somewhere deep in me, it hurts.  I will have to cut those sentimental strings... and whomever said that blood is thicker than water, can go fuck themselves.

Catching-up!

Yeah, it's about time for me to catch up some... We are now in week 25 and changes did occur since my last post.  Eight weeks since my last visit, wow, time does fly, fun or not, it only goes one way, as Hubby often says.

Since our last chat, we have moved in our new place.  It was a nightmare from Hell, really.  No jokes, never had such a horrible experience moving.  This wasn't our first move, but this sure was our WORST move.  All of our wooden furniture was damaged.  The degree of damages varied from one piece to the other, but ALL were damaged.  The company we used, Go Transport  came recommended by a friend who moved from Montréal to Calgary and she was happy with them, had no complaint.  I wish I could say the same...  On the day of packing, the team that showed up worked well.  There was one guy who seemed to be a little more cowboy (read careless) than the other two, but it went well.  They wrapped our furniture with bubble wrap, some covers and some type of clingy paper.  When we did ask about some pieces, we were told not to worry they would get re-wrapped at the warehouse, before storing them. On top of moving we were also storing all our stuff for two months, while the new place was being completed, thus the rental apartment.

Right from the start, first box they brought in, we noticed some damages...  That was our first alarm... 

Things were coming in and showing abuse, it did not convey care at all.  I did mention it to the guy (a new one, since the previous team leader who was there at packing, was sick) in charge and he couldn't tell me much.  I did contact the manager, and my contact at the GOT.  He even came for a visit the following day.  He was really apologetic and seemed genuinely concerned, but that didn't repair the scratches or broken dishes.  He even fired the one I referred to as Comboy, since he seemed to be the source of most damages.  That box was made by Cowboy when they packed in February.  It contained the four legs of our dinning room table and... the two lamp shades of our nigh table lamps.

Yep, that is only in one box.  We had over two hundred boxes and that is not counting our furniture.  It was a nightmare, really.  Every thing we unwrapped we found new damages.  Even last week, we installed a big picture frame that had not been unwrapped yet (waited for the paint to be done, etc), and that too, have one corner chipped and the frame is cracked.  We didn't add it to our claim, because at this point we just want to put this nightmare behind us and move on to better things.  We've had a woodworker come in to fix all our wooden pieces as best as possible, we had our lamp shapes re-done and this week the sub-contractor of the builder will be coming in to change the carpet in the stairway, since they pulled a big thread in it.  There is about $1,500 worth of damages and that doesn't include our console table which was wrapped so tight they bend the legs and cracked the wood!  Hell, I tell you!

Good thing we did not have the place painted before the move in since not only was our furniture damaged the walls took a beating too.  But not it is all done, almost, we have curtains and blinds on all windows, the food pantry and our walk-in have been done - and we love them both - most boxes are unpacked, we even have pictures on the walls so this is really starting to feel like home!

Last weekend, I drove with a friend, to Rimouski - we had a Postcrossing meet-up.  The drive there was pleasant, since the weather was nice.  I even took the road along the shore, such scenery.  Took us six hours to get there.  Walked around a bit that first night.  We were facing the St-Laurent, where the Empress of Ireland went down in 1914 (1,012 victims sank on May 29th that year).

Pointe-au-Père (museum and lighthouse)

We stayed at this very little motel, our room was so tiny we didn't have chairs to sit (to give you an idea), tiny! 

June 11th, while I enjoyed my breakfast Likki took in the scenery.

We were really along the water, the last road before the beach. The smells reminded me of when I would go for walks along the pier in Bodø.

We had a nice big meet at the local post office, since the post mistress is an avid participant in Postcrossing, and twenty of us showed up, mostly from the region, but one girl came from New Brunswick, one from Toronto, a few from Québec city and four of us for the Montréal area.  We manage to sign and send 433 cards!

Likki with Postman Pat and Jess the Cat with my stack of cards: 43 cards!

Likki with the stacks of cards being mailed from the meet

It was a fun, but long day.  I did manage to "escape" a little, went to visit the Empress of Ireland museum, walked some on the beach and did some socializing too.  A busy weekend overall.  We drove home Sunday morning and had heavy rain most of the way back.  It took us ten hours, granted we did make some pit stops, I needed to wake up from the wipers hypnosis!

Rimouski is a very nice region of our province.  The people are friendly and the scenery is gorgeous!

The lighthouse, with a meringue sky!

Sunset on Sat. June 11th, 2016

The interesting rocks along the shore...

Since my last post, one of my aunt passed away as well as the daughter of a cousin.  Sad that we often only get together for a death...  But at least some a bunch of us (six to be exact!) got together for dinner after that and managed to catch up some.  We said we would try harder to get together more often... let's see if that works.  Besides that, life in Pleasantville seems to be just that, pleasant.  Getting use to it, and so far liking it. Starting to know more than one path to get home, woohoo!

I think this will be it for now, and I will try to be better at keeping up... trying being the key word here...

Two Down, One Thorn and Shit

Week Two almost completed, and what another week that was too!  The sign went up, the pictures of our place were taken and we had our first visit as well.  Tomorrow will be our Open House.

Things are moving.  Fast.

Because of all the preparation I did to get our place ready for showings, I've been getting rid of stuff as well.  Storage for some, charity for others and garbage too at times.  I don't remember seeing my desk or our place, for that matter,  this empty.  It's nice. 

In other news, our current condo manager has finally agreed to the terms we had proposed, after many back and forth.  Yay!  That is one thorn out... now if we could get rid of the other one... that would be heavenly!  Really! 

I hate to admit it, and even more to live it, but because of one moron our life in general, but mostly our emotional health and patience are (or at least do feel like they are, at times) on thin ice.  Despite my efforts not to get it all get to me, and trying to remain calm and all, there are moments when I feel that if I was to let go the tiniest bit, everything would spin out of control and that would be bad; not only for me but for us (as in Hubby and moi).  Through all the years we've been together, these past few months (since August) had been the roughest.  In twenty-two years (next week, actually!) together, I don't think in our worst (when dealing with his crazy mother) we rocked the boat as much as we have lately.  I hate it.  I hate not having my husband "there" or seeing so pissed off all the time.  All of this because of one dumb ass.

I've been trying to let go, to drop the anger and (try) to remain calm, but man oh man, it's not easy when constantly poked or nagged.  Those are the days when I miss my dojo time.  Actually I should write, those are the days I miss the kumite days.  Not easy having to assume the calm role when in fact my fuse is so fucking short I feel like I could explode at any time, and sometimes I do (I feel for that poor girl of Fido who got an earful this week, and she did not hang up on me, to my surprise!).  Yep, if I was a bird I would so know who I'd shit on, it's not even a question.

Please, do keep sending those good vibes!

Hit me, baby, one more time...

Ever noticed how long it takes you, after being away for a while, to get back to the way you were before you left?  How long does it take for life to wipe that smile off your face once you're back?  How fast do you feel stress getting to you or how quickly the benefits of being away from it all disappear upon your return home?  That perma-smile doesn't last that long once back in daily life.  I can now confirm it.  It doesn't take that much, or rather that long to feel a known rush of stress.

Last week, Hubby and I drove to New Hampshire for the week.  A little get away, just the two of us.  Turns out, that the chosen location was actually very remote and there wasn't really much to do around there.  Given that my foot (still) hurts, hiking was out, and since we don't really golf that was out as well.  The nearest town was about 30 minutes away, and there wasn't much there either.  Thankfully, we were lucky with the weather and had a gorgeous week, an actual heat wave, and even luckier there was a pool at the resort.  So, for the week, we slept in, and lounge at the pool.  We rested.

We drove home Saturday.  It was a nice drive,

the one the Saturday before; it rained all the way.  While Hubby was unpacking the car, I made my way in the house, to realize that something wasn't quite right.  I looked around and noticed a spot on our kitchen tiles.  Oh no, crap, something leaked.  I couldn't quite tell where it came from, until I saw the ceiling above the cabinets. Crap!  I'm thinking "this is not good... this is not good!" as I make my way to our office.  As I walked in I see another spot on the floor, the hard wood floor.  I look at the ceiling to see it a joint all puffed up... as I'm looking at this, I also notice the wall and closet doors are all streaked... "oh no, what now?" That is when I opened the doors to find the self ripped off the wall, water dripping.  That closet is where I've kept all my books.  I'm actually remaining calm, until I start to make my way downstairs to meet up the unsuspecting husband to let him know that while we were away, relaxing in the sun of NH, our condo was being flooded again, for the third time.  Let's just say that the shit hit the fan, fast.

We didn't even unpack our luggage, started to look at what happened, contacted our neighbors who did confirm that yes they had a water leak, some problem with the thermo-pump that their owner/landlord had not fix... I took pictures of everything and then, with Hubby help started emptying that closet. That is one big closet and it contained a LOT of shit, let me tell you.

I've contacted the Syndic, to have the insurance appraisal for the repairs, which will not be minimum.  Our kitchen is seriously damaged; our cabinets are warped, and the tracks of the shelves are not working correctly, the hard wood floor is warped as well, the laundry closet, behind the appliances has a bubbling wall and the office's ceiling and floor is warped... so...

Let's just say we are not happy campers.  Not at all.  Our house is a big fucking mess at the moment, while we wait for people to come and see and evaluate and tell us what will happen and when... so frustrating..  We are both fed up.  Ready to snap we are wind so tight... not good, not good at all!

I had a dream...

Postcrossing has been very present in my life in the last year.  I got more involved, I've been sending more and receiving more as well.  I've attended and organized meetups, those meetings where we meet others nuts just like us about postcards.  We all have different reasons to start (and continue) this snail mail journey.  For some it is to meet new people, one postcard at the time, others it is because of a collection, for some it is their way to travel to see the world, but whatever the reason we love postcards.

Because I am the way I am, upon a suggestion, I created a group, for Canadian Postcrossing members on Bacefook.  There are a few groups for French speaking people and there is also one for Québécois,  so I thought having a place for us Canadians would be nice.  We could talk about our cards and our issues, etc. with other Canadians.  It is after all a bigger market than Québec alone.  It wasn't about swaps, or trading, but more a place to go and meet other crazies about cards that might end up being close to us.  It started out well.  I went on a crazy invite fest, basically emailing all Canadian persons I would come across on Postcrossing. I wanted it to work, to be alive!  I will say this, it is going.  We are close to 200 members and it's not been a year yet since I started it.  I've thought  of games to do, to get people involved, of a monthly draw, across Canada using our motto "A mari usque ad mare" as the name of it, I made it ours and shared with all.  I've had some rough times, and still do, when I have to refuse some because they were not Canadians.  I felt discriminatory, but at the same time my initial thought was "for and about Canadians".  I don't want to be closed minded;  I want to remain true to my vision. 

Like everything else in life, things change.  I'm good with that, and I welcome change, I think it keeps us on our toes.  Does that mean I want the purpose of the group to change?  Not really.  I still aim for a place where people will be comfortable enough to ask those "stupid" questions (I write "stupid" because often when we don't know something we think it's stupid), you know like how do I look for a specific user on Postcrossing or where can I get good cards in such a city, a place to share their stats with others about how many cards they have received in the month, or bitch about the price of stamps, etc.  I felt taken aback when some members would only post pictures of cards they wanted to trade, not ever writing a comment or anything just offering trades.  It started slow, once in a while, and then it got to more.  I had to intervene, since I didn't want that to be the only thing on the wall of the group.  Some people did complain about it, I'd say as many from those who wanted to trade as from those who didn't want to be bombarded with offers to trade.  I did try to go about it smoothly, offered other venues, like the Postcrossing Forum is a great place for such, suggested to do it by messages, etc.  It rocked the boat.  To be honest, my true nature (and if you know me IRL, you do know this) came rushing back and simply wanted to remove some from the group, but I also believe that this is now our group, so I tried different options - I wasn't about to become a dictator because of a few people, even if the urge was tickling me big time!


That died down some, but I have to keep reminding people every so often that trades should be made elsewhere. I don't like doing it, but like even less seeing those posts. But like many things in life, when it's not one thing it's another, right?  The past few weeks, actually even before Christmas, I saw some posts that made me wonder.  I know that some people have a visceral need to bitch and moan about nothing and everything.  They are simply miserable when things are smooth, they need commotion in order to feel alive or something.  I've reach a point in my life, where I try to avoid drama. Oh, don't get me wrong, I will not walk away from a good fight, if there is a need for me to fight.  Kumite is in me.  No doubts whatsoever about that! I'm confrontational and I totally assume it, but I will not provoke an argument for the sake of provoking.  I will ask questions, I will do perception check and ask why someone is being rude, or what the problem is, and if I'm attacked I will defend myself without hesitation.  Often my husband will tell me to drop it, whatever it may be, and I rarely do.  I will address the issue then move on. That is my way.  In every aspects of my life.

Because the group is getting bigger, the variety of it kicks in every so often.  Not everyone share the same opinions, and that's the part I enjoy, the differences, but I'm realizing that for some the difference of opinions means something more.  I agree that people can disagree, that one can't please everyone, that we're all entitled to our opinions, blah, blah, blah,  but it comes a time in ones life when one realizes that life is short and that we should enjoy it.  When I see people getting upset about futile things like a blank profile or a receiving a card that doesn't match their profile, I can't help and wonder the importance of Postcrossing in their lives.  When I get a blank profile I see it as an occasion to send any card I like or not.  When I get a card that I really don't understand why it was sent to me, since I don't care about dinosaurs (as an example), I'm thinking maybe the sender did really like dinosaurs and wanted to share his liking.  I will thank him the same way I would any other members.  Since I've started Postcrossing, I only got one "empty" message from someone on 365 cards registered, so overall I'd say members are quite polite ans respectful.  I've had more issues with some members of the group than on Postcrossing directly, granted with Postcrossing it is often limited to a one shot deal. I understand that we all have frustrations, and we all express them in different ways.  Some will take the direct approach and will voice their opinions, others will walk away without saying anything, and some will observe.

I believe that in everything we do we have a choice.  Unless you have a gun pressed against your head, you ALWAYS have a choice.  You may not have the guts to make that choice, you may not have the strength or the will to take that first step towards that choice, but we always have a choice.  When I felt that my parents rules were too much for me, I moved out.  When I felt that I wasn't having the same interest or passion about something, I've looked for something else.  When I thought that things weren't going the way I felt they should I did something about it.  I don't understand how someone can be unhappy, miserable or upset and choose to stay.  I've asked people to come aboard and never thought I've had to ask people to leave.  If you're not happy with what is being done in/for/with this group, then go.  Start your own group and stop bringing everyone down.  I've once told my mother who complained about my father's past behavior that the moment she decided to stay with him she relinquished her right to bitch about him.  She had made a choice, and now had to assume the consequences of her decision.  It's the same for this group.  You decided to become a member.  You don't like the way it's run, or the games we play, then leave.  I'm not holding anyone down.  I will not like to lose members, but if it is an unhappy member maybe it will be for the better of the group.

This group was created with good intentions, lots of ideas and expectations.  I'm proud of it and I truly enjoy it.  I don't want this to become a bore or even a chore.  There are some really cool people among the group and I truly wish that we find a middle path where we can shoot the shit about our empty mail boxes and not getting any rare countries in so long, and those damn expired cards, and not waste so much valuable time about piddly little things.  We should embrace our differences, and rejoice in the fact that we can send postcards to complete strangers who get a kick out of our card, or not, but no matter what it was fun...  'cause after all Postcrossing is:

The goal of this project is to allow people to receive postcards from all over the world, for free. Well, almost free! The main idea is that: if you send a postcard, you will receive one back from a random Postcrosser from somewhere in the world.
Why? Because, like the founder, there are lots of people who like to receive real mail.
The element of surprise of receiving postcards from different places in the world (many of which you probably have never heard of) can turn your mailbox into a box of surprises - and who wouldn't like that?

Something to remember on my way to get the mail, surprises are way better than bills any day of the week, right? Right! 

What he said!

Tonight we watch "John Wick" with Keanu Reeves; and one thing that struck me during the movie "it wasn't just a fucking dog" - the whole movie about seeking vengeance from the killer of his dog, it all made sense to me!

Recently there has been tensions between my mother and one of her brothers, her favorite one with whom she has been moose hunting for years,  and all related to her beau.  This year, while hunting my uncle got drunk and actually told my mother's beau that he didn't like him, point blank.   Let's just say that didn't go over that well.   Mom no longer wants to see nor talk to her brother.   At Christmas, the issue became a topic of conversation and I felt I just had to say something about it all. I did tell my mother and the beau my uncle had a right not to like him.  We didn't have to like him even if she did.  We weren't dating him, she was.   She was a little surprised by that, and eventually agreed.

The one thing I did not say was that I, too, don't really like the man.  I am thankful for him being in my mom's life because he's keeping her busy and it means I don't have to, but other than that I couldn't care less about him. Why you ask?  Well,  let me tell you!

They had come over one afternoon, and while here Tobi (our old kitty) got up from his bed and made his way to his food, slowly and cracking every steps he took. The beau then said: "if you want, I can take it outside and ring its neck... it would only take a minute"  I was flabbergasted.   I did manage to ask him how he could ask me such a thing.  His answer was: "Well, it's old!"  When I asked him if he would do the same to my mother when she would be too old and cracked when walking?  He laughed it off.

How dare him asking me such a heartless question,  when Tobi had been in our lives for 18 years?  He wasn't just a fucking cat, he was our cat!

We have to answer for it...

Today while I was at the salon, I was asked how I felt about the recent events, the terrorists attacks that have occurred within the last few days on our soil. At first I didn't think I should really express my opinion. But then again...

You see I have an issue with how loosely we use "terrorist attack", how fast we call a violent nut case a terrorist... It upsets me to see people jumping to conclusion about a violent act and blaming religious beliefs,  or whatever else. Why can't we just say a crime, a violent attack or act?  To say terrorist and throw in Islam is just turning things around so that we get scared and worried. 

The media is to blame for a lot of it, but there is also the authorities, how they manipulate the information that is being spread, shown.  They're leading us to believe certain things, and to be honest I'm not convinced we are told the truth.  It would be irresponsible of me to completely trust the system as it is.

Remember Denis Lortie, back in 1984 - the lunatic who walked in the QC Parliament and shot people?  He did kill three people.  Funny, how to this day, I've never heard anyone refer to him as anything other than a crazy man you blew a gasket.  There was never any mention of terrorism - granted back in the 80s it wasn't a world as popular as it is now.  Nowadays every damn crazy act is labeled terrorist. That does get to me.  It makes me mad, that we're being scared not only by actions of crazy people, but by words.

I think it is very sad to see so many of us, being scared, outraged, etc and at the same time somewaht unconscious or refusing to see that if you mingle in other people's business there are chances you might get involve in it too.  If one stirs a pot, you will not only smell what's cooking but you might get burned as well. 

As Canadians we've always been "nice", "peaceful", good citizens of the world.  We used to mind our business.  Lately, we've been following our Southern neighbors maybe a little too much, and now we may be starting to feel repercussion of it all. Until now, we've always felt safe. 

Last week, I've met an old man who did the Korea War and we talked some.  I was telling him about this idea I had to send postcards to our deployed soldiers, as a thank you and encouragement for their sacrifice (and yes, even if it is their choice), idea I shared with other Postcrossing members on Bacefook.  This week these sad events happened, yet again reminding me that I do support our troops, even if I'm not sure they should be where they are.

I don't do politics.  When I saw this, I liked the message.  I like the message on how to react.  Let's not be scared but think.  Let's not jump to conclusion but evaluate.  Let's not turn American (sorry to my US blends) and remember that we are Canadians, and what it means...

All About Me Mentality

Mise en scène

The wife wants to get back to some level of physical shape, but isn't to incline to do sports.  The husband is quite active.  For over ten years the wife hasn't touched her bicycle, and this even if the husband cycled to work almost daily.

The wife suggests they go for a ride.

Current scene

Not only is the wife feeling wobbly on her bicycle, she's hurting.  Her crotch is sore and her wrists are also sore.  This is not as fun as she remembered cycling to be.  Maybe it's an age thing?  She used to love riding her bike.

Because the wife hadn't cycled in so long, the husband wanted to go a safer way, and stay on bike paths.  Giving where they lived, a touristic area of town, no matter where they went,  they had to go through crowds, especially since it was a nice day.

The wife often (very often) heard the husband complained about how there was anything but cyclists on the bike paths.  He would complain about how baby carriage or people walking their
dogs or joggers were taking over the paths, how he couldn't ride without being aware of others. So, when she had to slow down and almost hit her brakes because of people walking in the middle of the path she understood the husband's complaints.  When she had to get off her bicycle and walked besides her bike because too many people were on the bicycle path rather than on the sidewalk, she got pissed off.  They had to walk for a few minutes to avoid mostly pedestrians.  Not even a few minutes after getting back on their bikes they came across four young women totally oblivious of being on a bike path and were walking side by side taking the width of the path.  The wife couldn't help herself and told them it was a bike path not a sidewalk.  They looked at her as if she was a mad woman and kept on walking, giggling.

One can't help and wonder where are we heading as people, as a society?  Why are we so focused on ourselves and nobody else? We all act as if we were alone, in our own little bubble, not giving a damn about anyone other than ourselves.  It's sad to see that future generation as well as current ones are so messed up and can only think about their little selves.  Not only have we lost respect not just for elders, but for everyone basically, we don't even care about our own selves enough to be polite and somewhat considerate of others.  As Professor Farnsworth said... I don't want to live on this planet anymore...

... only life to be lived with respect and duty...

I need to vent, and being alone at home, doesn't fill out the requirements to vent properly, so I'm posting! If you have the pleasure (ah!) of having met me, I'm not even thinking of knowing me, just having met me is plenty, I'm sure you've noticed that I'm blunt. Hubby says I'm confrontational and he's right. I will ask the hard question when need be, because I want to know.  I'm that way.  I like that about myself.  I ask when I'm not sure and (most of the time) I can deal with the answer.  It may not be the answer I was hoping for, but I got an answer and that is all I wanted.  I give people the same.  If asked a question, rest assure you will get an answer.  You may not like it, but you'll know where you/we stand.

That being said, in a recent post I wrote that I hated liars. I do.  I have no respect for cowards either.  I can excuse someone's lack of maturity if in their twenties, but someone my age not so much.

As you (may) already know I've been Postcrossing for a few years now. I looooove postcards.  Love sending them and receiving them as well. Postcrossing is fun.  It's a nice addiction, because it is.  Like through blogging, you meet people along the way, people who share the same interest, people with whom you create some bonds.  Some are tighter than others, but it's all good.  We all share in the pleasure of the activity (whatever it may be).

Last year, I've attended a meet-up, here in Montreal, where I've met people sharing the same craziness.  It was fun and the people were nice.  Through Bacefook we've exchanged, created different types of bonds, it was all fun and games, really.

Attended another one this Spring, quite smaller (we were only 5 people) but it's a nice bunch.  At the end, I spoke with two ladies attending about maybe attending another meet in Toronto this summer.  It was another pleasant encounter.  A few weeks later I see a post in a Bacefook group from one of the ladies asking who would be willing to attend a mini-meet with another guy who can rarely get away to attend the meets in Montreal due to his work.  All usual suspects answered they couldn't (it was a little short notice), but I answered I would be interested and even volunteered to drive to the meet, since the two ladies don't have a car.  I didn't hear anything back from them.  I assumed the meet wasn't happening.

A few weeks later I see in another Bacefook group posts being posted from people thanking the ladies for cards they've received from their mini meet.  My first reaction was being taken aback.  Then, being the pitbull I am, I've decided to say something to the two ladies.  I wrote them a quick little message saying that I was seeing multiple posts about their mini-meet with that guy and was wondering if it was the one they had posted about and for which I had written I was interested to attend but never heard anything back?  Neither of them responded.  Not a peep, squat.

Honestly, I was pissed off but I think I was more hurt to be "pushed aside" without any explanation.  If they wanted to meet with that guy alone, that was fine, they should have said so (and not ask anything).  In the following weeks, I've noticed they weren't as present as they were once.  They would comment in one group, but be completely silent in others.  I've decided to announce I would be attending the Toronto meet.  Didn't hear anything from them.  I even tried asking one, and her answer was somewhat general.

Yesterday morning, I announce the winner of a little game and neither of them commented (nor had participated) within seconds the guy announces the winner of a draw he did and one of the lady comments.  I go on her profile to realize that my paranoia isn't all in my head, she de-friended me and she's no longer in the group I manage!  What the Hell?!  I send her a message asking her what is wrong and if I'd done something to upset her.  It took her three hours before answering me, saying it had nothing to do with me, she just did a little clean up erasing about 80 people so that she could better manage her time and wished me a good meeting in Toronto.  I had also asked the other lady, who told me she'd been busy with work, blah, blah... and would explain more in a few hours.  She did.  She felt that she'd put in lots of effort into one group to no avail and because her English isn't that good she didn't feel like investing in another group, so she decided to be less involved all together except in her personal life. 

My intentions were to send both of them cards from the Toronto meet, to be a grown-up about it all, but after reading the first lady's answer I felt like they should both go fuck themselves.  I don't want to waste time on stupidities like these, about people with so little self-respect who haven't grown up enough to act like mature adults and have the balls to call a cat "cat"... I will not lie, I was hurt, but at this very moment, I'm over it. I'm letting go of my anger, since it would only be a waste of energy.

I enjoy Postcrossing, and going to Toronto for this meet, will be an experience no matter what.  It will be my first visit there, Hubby will be with me, and we'll be traveling by train, another first for me.  I won't let those two women put a damper on my enthusiasm.  They don't like me and my attitude?  Oh well, too bad, so sad!  It is their problem, not mine.  My hands are clean and I can hold my head high, I didn't do anything wrong.  I've been true to myself, to my best self.

Hate it a strong word

Often we'll use the wrong word, or not say what we really mean in order to spare someone's feelings.  We tell what is often called 'fibs'... nothing too serious...

fib (fɪb)

n

1. a trivial and harmless lie

 Or is it?  Why do we feel the need to tell a lie?  Is it to protect someone, or because we don't have the balls to speak our mind, call it as it is?  I wonder.

People who do know me beyond this screen, do know that I'm one who will at times hurt with my words, because I tend to be (too) honest.  I don't think of lies, fibs or anything of the kind as trivial and harmless.  They are not.

If/When you don't want to do/say something, please be grown up enough to say so.  I will respect you a lot more if you're honest and speak the truth than if you lie for whatever reason.

You're not protecting fuck all expect your sorry ass when you lie, remember that.  At least, the very least, be honest with yourself.  That would be a good place to start.

I think it hurts me more when I find out someone lied to me than having been told the truth in the first place.  Hate is a strong word, but I DO hate liars!

I think the way I honk says it all...

It never fails.

Just when I think things are good, something pops up. On Friday, my mother called. She rarely does. She called because a life long friend of the family had called her to let her know he had cancer. Again. He's been battling it for years, and I thought he was in remission, but he called my mom to let her know that his brain and lungs were now attacked. The end is near for him. When I had first found out a few years back he had cancer, I had written him a letter (I think I had posted about that back then). After I spoke with my mom, I felt sad.  He's a good man.  He wants to live and it saddens me to think of him going.  But such is life.  It sucks, but what that is why we're here, to live some and die.  Sad, ridiculous but true.  We don't have much choice about it. That's life.

Tonight, I found out the brother of a friend passed away.  He was only 42, father of two young ones.  It is sad.  I know he had a hard battle.  Not easy for anyone.

At times, I can't help but wonder if it is worth the effort we put in.  We're doing all of this, for what?  Nobody gets out alive, nobody's found a loophole, no matter your fortune, your relationship status, no matter how well or poorly you treat people, you will die too.  Nobody escapes it.  When I think of it, I then wonder why am I trying to be a better person, to be honest, to respect others, to be nice?  Does it really matter?  The way we live doesn't reflect on how we will die.  You can be an asshole all your life and go quietly in your sleep, while the nice person will suffer through cancer and all of that. 

Even if I do believe in karma, at times, it all doesn't make sense to me.  I guess I don't have that type of faith, the kind that will explain or rationalize it all, 'cause even if I try not to judge, because when I think someone isn't deserving of suffering I'm judging that person (in a good way, but still it is my judgement), and I shouldn't.  I should mind my own business, do my best and trust in the universe, or the energy or whatever.  At times, it is fucking hard to do.

I know life isn't easy, I get that.  We all have a path, that we choose or not to follow.  When I think of people (relative and friend) who stopped talking to me because I did or didn't do something, that they disliked but never had the gull to talked to me about it, it makes me... angry more than sad.  We have little time here, why are we wasting it this way, are we that arrogant?  Do we think that death will pass us by, that we have all the time in the world?  Can we really be that stupid?  Argh.

I swear, when I feel this way I so get why my father took the way out he did.  I'm assuming that was a way for him to claim some control over what he felt he could no longer control...  I still think it showed courage, and desperation, but courage to pull that trigger.  Courage I don't have.  At least not for that.  I have courage, but what I'm lacking at the moment, is hope, or is that faith?

Cultural differences or just plain disrespectful?

I'm not patient.  I've been feeling stressed lately (lots of work, and with Christmas around the corner it all adds up to more stress), thus a little less patient (if that's even possible).  I'll be the first to admit that I have very low tolerance for slowness in general.

When I talk to someone, even to a pet, I do expect an answer or at least a reaction, I'm funny that way.  So, when I'm facing someone who looks at me like a deer in headlights, I can't help but feel somewhat annoyed.  My impatience kicks in.  I'm this way in everything, unlike Hubby who tends to be more so when driving, but somewhat "nicer" when dealing with people.  I just think he fakes it better, that's all.

Since I've been self-employed I haven't have to attend too many (useless) meetings.  I do have to meet clients, but since they pay me per hour, they tend to be a little more efficient.  What irritates me no end is people not respecting me.  Some people are always late.  That's just the way they are, the way they function.  I hate that.  They always have an excuse also, which makes it all even worst.  Maybe it is due to my many years in martial arts, where respect was number one, but to me always being late shows disrespect, not only to me and those around but to yourself as well.

Two weeks ago I had a meeting at a client with two other consultants and three staff members.  While I was sitting with the employee who had called that meeting for the others to show (and I wasn't there in advance, but at the time called for), I did mention how I hated waiting for disrespectful people.  It as almost funny how he agreed with me, but then said "well... it's part of some people's culture".
One of the employee showed up 5 min. late while one of the consultant showed up more than 15 min. late.  When he came in, I couldn't help but to thank him to finally make it.  He laughed a little, but I knew he had gotten my message. 

Last week, the employee called another meeting.  I accepted and replied to all on the distribution "It would be nice if everyone could respect the schedule time and be there on time."  Everyone did.  Saturday, that client had his annual end of year celebration.  Things were running relatively on time, considering the size of the event.  At our table, five seats were left empty.  For having organized many events, there's nothing worst than expecting people (especially RSVP) who end up not showing up.  Those things do happen.  What I find weird is how it often always happen to the same unlucky bastards to be late, but hey...  They started doing the awards presentation, etc. and at some point, a lady sitting across from me, said "I think I know who's missing from our table, he's always late, it's cultural, you know."  I didn't say anything, but thought how easily she was forgiving this flagrant lack of respect.  The celebration started at 6pm.  The missing person showed up well after 7:30pm.

Because it was a special celebration this year, someone in the group of non-employees suggested to get a nice gift (all together) for the CEO.  He asked for a specific amount and said he would shop and give us a card we could all signed before the gift was to be remitted to the CEO during the celebration.  Five or six of us agreed and contributed.   Well, the party went on, and on, and no gift was presented to the CEO other than one from his employees.  At some point I went to see the "organizer" of our little gift plan and asked if it had been bought.  His answer was "Yes, it's in my car.  Since we were a little late, I didn't know if we'd have time to present it to him".  I felt like punching him in the mouth!  What an ass!  When I asked when was he planning to give it to him, he looked confused, to finally answer Monday.  I'm not at that client on Mondays, and since he didn't have the card (either) I couldn't sign it.  When I told him he looked at me like a deer in headlights, argh!  Another punch coming!

I'm supposed to accept this and excuse his total disrespect of all involved and the CEO as well, as cultural differences, because he's African?  Really?  I don't think so.  He's just an ass, who sure acted like a big dumbass!

Cultural differences are (according to CICB):

• Laughing is connoted in most countries with happiness - in Japan it is often a sign of confusion, insecureness and embarrassment.
  
• In the UK Ireland and Commonwealth countries, the word „compromise” has a positive meaning (as a consent, an agreement where both parties win something); in the USA it may rather have negative connotations (as both parties lose something).
  
• In Mediterranean European countries, Latin America and Sub Saharan Africa, it is normal, or at least widely tolerated, to arrive half an hour late for a dinner invitation, whereas in Germany and Switzerland this would be extremely rude.

I guess I'm not cultured, or lacking cultural knowledge or something, but to me what he did is so wrong, no matter where he's from...  I feel like putting a stop payment on the check I wrote him last week!

One dickhead too many.

Any construction people out there, reading this?  If so, maybe you could answer this. Why is it that time doesn't exist in your world?  Why is it that you bother to give your customer a time and only show up two hours later?  Is it time that don't exist or respect?  I wonder.

Proof of the leak

When we came back from our road trip, in August, we noticed in the kitchen, that during our absence something had leaked on our counter.  Everything was dry, but we could see that it came from the ceiling, thus our dickhead neighbor, once again.I called him and asked him to come down.  He did, and after him looking at everything and trying to argue that nothing leaked from his place, he did eventually admit that his dishwasher had a leak.  Oh, really?  You think?

Long story short, we are now undergoing some repair work (at his expenses, since he caused the damages, again) of a part of our kitchen ceiling.  The work started yesterday.  It was demolition day.  They had to open up the ceiling, remove the wet insulation and make sure things were dry before closing back everything.  As you can imagine our kitchen was a mess.  Even if they covered the cabinets and appliances, dust has this funny habit of getting in everywhere.

Today they plastered.  They left and came back later thinking they could start the sanding, but it wasn't dry so it will be tomorrow - talk about prolonging the pleasure.

What is getting to me is the fact that, once again, we're the ones having to clean up after our moronic neighbor's lack of judgement.  He knew his dishwasher leaked, so why did he wait until it got bad enough that it leaked through the ceiling of our place?  In five years of living next to this guy, we've suffered three water damages, two of which he and his girlfriend caused.  It's not all bad luck, trust me, these people are morons, and the worst part is they are reproducing!

Because of this we will have to wash everything, dishes, glasses, walls, cupboards and floor.  Every night until our kitchen is back to order, we have to clean above and beyond our usual chores and that pisses us off no end.  Hubby is fuming.  We like our place clean and in relative order.  It's a mess now, and we're not happy.

You Say Tomato And I Say…Tomahto

I guess our level of tolerance varies from one individual to another. It does make it all interesting (I guess), and does make it challenging as well.  Since I've started this blog I've been venting a lot, about many things, including family, friends, every day life, work.  I guess I'm no different than the rest of us.  We all deal with things in different ways.  Some are more pro-active, others are more reactive and some are just playing trying to play dead and not deal.

As you may know, we've been having major student protests in Montreal which started this Spring (they're now on vacation, because it is after all vacation time!).  For a while, every night the students were marching the streets of the city, blocking streets, banging pots in unison.  It was quite something.  It was also a real pain in the ass if like us, you lived downtown.  What started out as students protesting the raise of their tuition fees turned into many other things for many Québécois.

Some marches turned ugly.  The police got involved.  What started out peacefully didn't quite end that way.  A few people got hurt, many were arrested (with or without just cause), but since then the Montreal Police lost a lot of feathers in the public opinion.

I wanted to be a cop. Maybe because I was raised by a very authoritarian father, but having rules and making sure they're respected was always of interest.  It might of been due to the fear I had towards authority (read my father), or maybe it was my respect of discipline (I guess 20+ years of karate will do that to you), but I do believe that rules and laws are there for  a reason.

We live in a condo, and our garage pit gives access to two garages (ours which we share with a moron, and the other which is also shared between two condos). A few months ago (there was still snow on the ground), we came home late one night to find a mini-van parked in our driveway, blocking our entrance.  We couldn't get in our garage.  We did call the police, who basically told us they couldn't have it towed because it wasn't for an emergency.  We could park on the street.  We were both furious.  We managed to find parking two streets over, but couldn't believe we had no rights.  We couldn't get home and park our car inside because of an idiot driver who left their vehicle in front of out driveway.  The cops did leave a parking ticket and that was that.

On Thursday morning, Hubby and I left together.  As we pulled out of our garage, we noticed a car parked further down in the garage entrance, which Hubby had seen there the day before.   The Audi was parked along the wall, in front of the other door.  That area is a no parking zone.  We can't even leave friggin' garbage there, so imagine a car.

Before we drove off, I did leave a note on the car, reminding them it was a no parking area and could be towed.  When I got to the office, I've sent an email to our condo administrator asking him to send a reminder to all co-owners and renters that it wasn't a parking spot, etc.  When we got home that night, the car was still there.  At 10pm on Friday night, it was still there.

On Thursday night when I got home and saw the car still there, I did call the cops.  What a waste of time.  It rubbed me the wrong way when after I've placed my call, I was called back by the officer who came by to answer the call who asked to speak with Stinky, not Mrs Paw, but Stinky, as if he knew me!  When I came out to see him in the driveway, I realized I was old enough to be his mother! I'm sure he noticed as well. He was standing there looking at the Audi and asked what the problem was.  I explained it was a no parking zone, the car had been there for more than a day, etc.  There was nothing he could do because it wasn't blocking our garage entrance and maybe he was given permission by the other co-owners.  I did explained out condo rules, and started to get pissed off when he mentioned the car wasn't on our property.  Really?  In a fucking condo syndicate everything is ours except the inside of each condos (and even that)!  He understood, and all but there was nothing he could do.  He wouldn't even give them a parking ticket!  I was livid.  He saw it.  They couldn't do fuck all a few months ago when we were blocked out, and couldn't do fuck all again.  Our tax dollars at work!  What a useless bunch.

On one hand they abuse their power (check out this video, this is walking distance from our place, and I've seen this guy every time I've walked by, don't know the whole story as to why, but still it looks bad), they take themselves too seriously and on the other hand they do sweet nothing when something should be done.  Useless I tell you!  OK, I'm done motivating you for today!