My blog sucks. I mean, it really really sucks. I have one reader, although I'm sure a few friends are lurkers, hoping to read me bashing them again. Might happen, might not. Either way, I've been doing a lot of blog reading, and finding many that are much more entertaining... Even some that are making money for their writers!! Hell, I'd like to be one of them.
First, I'd like to formally commit myself to less blogs about how crappy my real life is. That's probably the first place to start. We all know that a 26 year old living with friends who does nothing but work cannot possibly have that crappy(or great) a life. In fact, I'm sure my life would be considered mediocre at best. Average, possibly. Bad things happen to everyone. I need to get over it and move on.
Second, I'm also going to write less blogs about my pets. I have a few, I've had more than a few throughout my life, but I'm sure that no one really cares about them. Other than me of course. And my family.
Third... Well I need to figure out something to be number 3, and something important. Possibly a topic or direction to go with my blog. This was meant to get me writing more, but all I did was use it exactly as I would a journal... Write in it now and then, and forget about it the rest of the time.
I'd like to have more followers. A dozen would be nice... Hell, I'd be happy with 2!! I'm going to leave the crappy old posts and just move forward. Perhaps I will make some sort of plan, what I'll post on what days. Looking for 2 or 3 posts a week. Hopefully.
Finally, I'm going to close this awesomely short post with this... Hyperbole and a Half. It's a blog. It frigging rocks. Hillarious.... I enjoyed reading it so much that when I had caught up, I was sad. Like, throw myself off a building type sad.
Anyway, a link to the amazingness that is Allie's Hyperbole and a Half... and if she reads this, I hope she's flattered, and not at all creeped out, cuz one day I would like to kidnap her and store her in my closet for my amusement pleasure.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Ferret Troubles
As most of you know, I did not willingly enter into the world of ferrets. Maybe I should start at the very beginning. I've told(and argued) the story so many times that it's become a regular thing that I type. Here goes...
Felix is my first ferret. He's a sweetheart, a doll, and mentally handicapped. At this point, I am sure that he can never be replaced or duplicated. Felix is one of a kind.
July 23rd, 2008. My family dog, a 13 year old boxer cross that had been a member of my family since I was 13 passed away.
July 30th, 2008. My grandmother passed away due to terminal cancer.
August 6th, 2008. Buddy first saw a blur of white run across Cavan Street. Jacob, myself and Alex followed Buddy and eventually caught the creature. This would eventually become Felix.
Now, about Felix. He's disabled. Felix was bred by Marshall's ferretry, which is known for breeding ferrets of exotic colours. However, they do not selectively breed, but rather breed specifically for colour. That's how my Felix Felicis came to be.
First note. Felix is named Felix Felicis after the potion in Harry Potter. He is more lucky than anyone can ever know. The average ferret lives about 2 weeks after being released. However, my Felix is not an average ferret. He is severely affected by Waardenburg's syndrome. This is a genetic issue that shows up generally due to non-selective breeding. When ferrets are bred for a specific pattern(panda, dew, mitts, etc), they can end up with this condition. Normally it manifests as deafness in ferrets, as well as the markings that are desired. However the condition can result in a disformed skull, causing problems with not only hearing, but also eyes, general face shape, and jaw function. Felix has the worst possible conditions. Not only is he deaf, but also he seems mentally handicapped due to jaw deformities. How am I positive he has jaw deformities? Well, Felix cannot open his mouth wide enough to separate his canines. Beyond that, I don't care. Felix is my Fefe, and he is an amazing ferret. He's taught me so much about ferrets, his genetic issues, and adaptation that I could never have a ferret like him.
Once I owned Felix officially, I decided it was time to buy him a proper cage. Before this, he was housed in a spare guinea pig cage. He escaped from this on at least one occasion(though there is debate that I left him out). I bought him an FN 142. This, obviously, was far too large for one ferret. At the same time, I found out that ferrets did better in pairs, and started looking for a friend for Felix. I posted an advertisement on Kijiji.com, stating that I was looking for a ferret friend for Fefe.
Enter Sadie.
When I got Sadie, her name was Twister. She was not suited for such a name. She did not twist and turn, she did not dook. She did not even know how to be a ferret. The woman who gave me Sadie(stating that she did not get on with the other ferret in the home, and that she had been in the home less than a week) seemed to know nothing about this ferret. Sadie's upper canines were ruined and she was not affectionate at all. In fact, when handled, Sadie shivered near enough to shake out of her skin. She wanted nothing to do with anyone, and seemed mostly content to sleep, rather than interact with anyone... She didn't know how to be a ferret even. It took a while, loads of coaxing and treats before Sadie even knew that coming out of her cage wasn't a trick. But after a few weeks, my girlie knew we meant no harm, was attached to Felix, and accustomed to handling and life as a loved ferret.
But I'd decided to get a third ferret.... Why? Because my local humane society had an older ferret that needed a home... I wasn't sure what to do at the time, but decided to give it a chance and try my best to give the ferret a good home
Felix is my first ferret. He's a sweetheart, a doll, and mentally handicapped. At this point, I am sure that he can never be replaced or duplicated. Felix is one of a kind.
July 23rd, 2008. My family dog, a 13 year old boxer cross that had been a member of my family since I was 13 passed away.
July 30th, 2008. My grandmother passed away due to terminal cancer.
August 6th, 2008. Buddy first saw a blur of white run across Cavan Street. Jacob, myself and Alex followed Buddy and eventually caught the creature. This would eventually become Felix.
Now, about Felix. He's disabled. Felix was bred by Marshall's ferretry, which is known for breeding ferrets of exotic colours. However, they do not selectively breed, but rather breed specifically for colour. That's how my Felix Felicis came to be.
First note. Felix is named Felix Felicis after the potion in Harry Potter. He is more lucky than anyone can ever know. The average ferret lives about 2 weeks after being released. However, my Felix is not an average ferret. He is severely affected by Waardenburg's syndrome. This is a genetic issue that shows up generally due to non-selective breeding. When ferrets are bred for a specific pattern(panda, dew, mitts, etc), they can end up with this condition. Normally it manifests as deafness in ferrets, as well as the markings that are desired. However the condition can result in a disformed skull, causing problems with not only hearing, but also eyes, general face shape, and jaw function. Felix has the worst possible conditions. Not only is he deaf, but also he seems mentally handicapped due to jaw deformities. How am I positive he has jaw deformities? Well, Felix cannot open his mouth wide enough to separate his canines. Beyond that, I don't care. Felix is my Fefe, and he is an amazing ferret. He's taught me so much about ferrets, his genetic issues, and adaptation that I could never have a ferret like him.
Once I owned Felix officially, I decided it was time to buy him a proper cage. Before this, he was housed in a spare guinea pig cage. He escaped from this on at least one occasion(though there is debate that I left him out). I bought him an FN 142. This, obviously, was far too large for one ferret. At the same time, I found out that ferrets did better in pairs, and started looking for a friend for Felix. I posted an advertisement on Kijiji.com, stating that I was looking for a ferret friend for Fefe.
Enter Sadie.
When I got Sadie, her name was Twister. She was not suited for such a name. She did not twist and turn, she did not dook. She did not even know how to be a ferret. The woman who gave me Sadie(stating that she did not get on with the other ferret in the home, and that she had been in the home less than a week) seemed to know nothing about this ferret. Sadie's upper canines were ruined and she was not affectionate at all. In fact, when handled, Sadie shivered near enough to shake out of her skin. She wanted nothing to do with anyone, and seemed mostly content to sleep, rather than interact with anyone... She didn't know how to be a ferret even. It took a while, loads of coaxing and treats before Sadie even knew that coming out of her cage wasn't a trick. But after a few weeks, my girlie knew we meant no harm, was attached to Felix, and accustomed to handling and life as a loved ferret.
But I'd decided to get a third ferret.... Why? Because my local humane society had an older ferret that needed a home... I wasn't sure what to do at the time, but decided to give it a chance and try my best to give the ferret a good home
Sunday, July 18, 2010
There's A Release Button For That...
Well, that last blog was a crapshoot... I got too drunk and didn't get around to actually writing anything. Probably a good thing. I've refrained from writing lately because my room mate took offence to one of my posts. Drunken rants are never good, I guess.
Of course, when I pull this up, I get switched to a busy queue, meaning more work and I have to keep what I'm writing in a separate part of my mind than the working part, otherwise I'll do something like that kid did, and tell someone they need to change the cheeseburger in their mouse. True story. He was looking at pictures of cheeseburgers online and the customer had their wireless mouse not working. He said she had to change the cheeseburgers in her remote to make it work. I haven't done that... at least not yet.
I'm trying to adopt a new ferret from the humane society. I've pretty much resigned myself that I'm going to get denied, mostly because my puppy isn't fixed yet and I already have two ferrets. I suppose I resigned myself to this fact because it's easier to expect nothing and get something than to expect something and get nothing. But, either way, I'm going to feel like crap when they tell me I am an unfit pet owner.
Woo, hour til hometime. Not going to come soon enough though. All I want is my puppy and my bed, and maybe a good movie. And now I'm in the even busier queue. I'm going to go hang myself...
------------
Did not successfully hang myself. Too bad. Did have a smoke and feel a bit better about things. Kinda, but not really anyway. I hate being in a queue that's constantly queuing. And this one is. Midnights used to be awesome... now if you work past midnight they punish you by putting you in a queue with very angry people. And if you work past 2am, they punish you even more, closing out the only two good queues and only keeping the angry queues open.
People wonder why I hate my job. It's stressful and I spend most of my time being yelled at. It sucks. I feel like crap when I go home, and I've honestly never been more depressed than I've been lately.
Of course, when I pull this up, I get switched to a busy queue, meaning more work and I have to keep what I'm writing in a separate part of my mind than the working part, otherwise I'll do something like that kid did, and tell someone they need to change the cheeseburger in their mouse. True story. He was looking at pictures of cheeseburgers online and the customer had their wireless mouse not working. He said she had to change the cheeseburgers in her remote to make it work. I haven't done that... at least not yet.
I'm trying to adopt a new ferret from the humane society. I've pretty much resigned myself that I'm going to get denied, mostly because my puppy isn't fixed yet and I already have two ferrets. I suppose I resigned myself to this fact because it's easier to expect nothing and get something than to expect something and get nothing. But, either way, I'm going to feel like crap when they tell me I am an unfit pet owner.
Woo, hour til hometime. Not going to come soon enough though. All I want is my puppy and my bed, and maybe a good movie. And now I'm in the even busier queue. I'm going to go hang myself...
------------
Did not successfully hang myself. Too bad. Did have a smoke and feel a bit better about things. Kinda, but not really anyway. I hate being in a queue that's constantly queuing. And this one is. Midnights used to be awesome... now if you work past midnight they punish you by putting you in a queue with very angry people. And if you work past 2am, they punish you even more, closing out the only two good queues and only keeping the angry queues open.
People wonder why I hate my job. It's stressful and I spend most of my time being yelled at. It sucks. I feel like crap when I go home, and I've honestly never been more depressed than I've been lately.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Vodka and Lemonade
I'm drinking some vodka and lemonade and it reminds me of Kaity.
I don't know if she knows, but I'm quite fond of this girl. I could possibly concider her my best female friend... though that might be because she doesn't live in the same country as me.
Kaity lives in England, and she's 18? years old? I really don't know, because she acts so much more mature than she should for her age. I know I always think she's older than she is, because she is so mature.
She's been offline for a while... feels like forever, but I know it hasn't been more than a week. She should be back soon... I hope. I didn't realize until she'd gone on vacation, but I talk to her most every day. I share with her my triumphs, and my failures. I can tell her things I don't tell anyone else, because I don't feel like she's judging me.
Part if this, I know, is that she IS so far away. I don't see her face to face, and I don't see what she does when she's not online. With her, and other online people, it's only ever conversation, none of the drama that comes with offline relationships. No he said, she said, just the conversation.
And that's not to belittle online relationships. Some of my favourite people, I only ever talk to online. I think about them day to day and worry about them, just like people I see face to face. I thoroughly enjoy these friends, and worry that they don't realize it.
Even if I don't ever see you, even if we lose contact, know that I still wonder how you're doing from time to time. Everyone you have contact with helps to shape your life. Thank you.
I don't know if she knows, but I'm quite fond of this girl. I could possibly concider her my best female friend... though that might be because she doesn't live in the same country as me.
Kaity lives in England, and she's 18? years old? I really don't know, because she acts so much more mature than she should for her age. I know I always think she's older than she is, because she is so mature.
She's been offline for a while... feels like forever, but I know it hasn't been more than a week. She should be back soon... I hope. I didn't realize until she'd gone on vacation, but I talk to her most every day. I share with her my triumphs, and my failures. I can tell her things I don't tell anyone else, because I don't feel like she's judging me.
Part if this, I know, is that she IS so far away. I don't see her face to face, and I don't see what she does when she's not online. With her, and other online people, it's only ever conversation, none of the drama that comes with offline relationships. No he said, she said, just the conversation.
And that's not to belittle online relationships. Some of my favourite people, I only ever talk to online. I think about them day to day and worry about them, just like people I see face to face. I thoroughly enjoy these friends, and worry that they don't realize it.
Even if I don't ever see you, even if we lose contact, know that I still wonder how you're doing from time to time. Everyone you have contact with helps to shape your life. Thank you.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
The 80 Hour Pay Period Experiement
So.... My coworkers and carpool have decided that this pay period will be an 80 hour pay period. They've stated that I am not allowed to hit my go home early, and I have to work all my shifts.
I am less than pleased. Well, I know that in 2 weeks when I get the big pay cheque, I won't be so upset, but really. I hate working. I take every excuse I can to leave early.
Then Penny brought up an interesting point. Working 40 hours a week keeps me out of the house for longer, away from my roommates for longer, and will give me more money for my "escape fund". So that was something that peaked my fancy, gives me a new perspective on this whole working lots thing.
Perhaps I should expand on my "escape fund". I hate where I'm living. I've never been so overwhelmed with concern. I'm worried about the rent and bills, of course, I'm worried that I have no food most of the time, but with roommates? I also have to worry about their share of the rent, their share of the bills. THEN we get to me worrying that I'll come home to my pup dead or broken from them beating him, or lost because they didn't care and set him free, or something happening to my ferrets, or my electronics. I've never had a password on my computer before I moved here... Not because I care if they look at my files, I have nothing to hide as far as that goes. No, because I'm worried they will unintentionally(or intentionally) damage it, or break it.
And maybe someone can explain to me how my 4.5mth pup manages to open doors, or even find his way here when we're gone, to piss on the floor. It couldn't be one of their two dogs, oh no, those two beasts are perfectly trained. And it couldn't be one of their friends' dogs, because all of them are obviously perfectly trained as well. No no, even if my dog has had no access to the room, he will have pissed on the floor. I've come home from being out for several hours, and still my dog was the cause of the wet spot on the floor. Yep, that's my dog all right... the wonder dog who can run across town, piss on the floor and get back to me without me noticing.
I am less than pleased. Well, I know that in 2 weeks when I get the big pay cheque, I won't be so upset, but really. I hate working. I take every excuse I can to leave early.
Then Penny brought up an interesting point. Working 40 hours a week keeps me out of the house for longer, away from my roommates for longer, and will give me more money for my "escape fund". So that was something that peaked my fancy, gives me a new perspective on this whole working lots thing.
Perhaps I should expand on my "escape fund". I hate where I'm living. I've never been so overwhelmed with concern. I'm worried about the rent and bills, of course, I'm worried that I have no food most of the time, but with roommates? I also have to worry about their share of the rent, their share of the bills. THEN we get to me worrying that I'll come home to my pup dead or broken from them beating him, or lost because they didn't care and set him free, or something happening to my ferrets, or my electronics. I've never had a password on my computer before I moved here... Not because I care if they look at my files, I have nothing to hide as far as that goes. No, because I'm worried they will unintentionally(or intentionally) damage it, or break it.
And maybe someone can explain to me how my 4.5mth pup manages to open doors, or even find his way here when we're gone, to piss on the floor. It couldn't be one of their two dogs, oh no, those two beasts are perfectly trained. And it couldn't be one of their friends' dogs, because all of them are obviously perfectly trained as well. No no, even if my dog has had no access to the room, he will have pissed on the floor. I've come home from being out for several hours, and still my dog was the cause of the wet spot on the floor. Yep, that's my dog all right... the wonder dog who can run across town, piss on the floor and get back to me without me noticing.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Anger, Rage, Fusteration...
Well, I am pretty pissed off right now. Not only because of the normal things, but because of something unusual that happened recently.
My nephew had a birthday party yesterday, and there was an uninvited guest, in the form of a black pitbull cross bitch. Very sweet dog, gentle with the kids and friendly, but a bit iffy with other dogs. (She was probably starving and scared out of her skull). They'd seen this dog once before.
My brother's mother in law took this dog to the shelter last night. I had made it clear that I was intending to ask around at work, and see if anyone knew anything. No one told me that they intended to bring this dog to the pound, that there was no point in even looking for the owner.
And what are the odds that I found the owner last night? Probably pretty slim, but I thought I had, and had discussed it with her. She had recently rehomed the dog, and the dog had gotten loose and the new owner was obviously not looking for her. When trying to find the dog a home, the former owner had called the Shelter of Hope, and asked about dropping her off. She was told that, due to BSL, the dog would be immediately put to sleep. If she brought the dog onto the property, the dog would not only be taken and euthanized right there, but also she would be given an idiotically large fine for having an unfixed pitbull cross.
So the sweet little dog with problems only caused by people was sentenced to death because idiots couldn't leave well enough alone. I can't help but be very disappointed, even if I am a little proud of myself. Within 12 hours, I managed to find the dog's owner, get the story, and find a new home for the dog. It was, however, all for nothing.
A moment of silence for Kela, a pitbull x lab bitch who was murdered for something beyond her control.
Genocide at it's best.
My nephew had a birthday party yesterday, and there was an uninvited guest, in the form of a black pitbull cross bitch. Very sweet dog, gentle with the kids and friendly, but a bit iffy with other dogs. (She was probably starving and scared out of her skull). They'd seen this dog once before.
My brother's mother in law took this dog to the shelter last night. I had made it clear that I was intending to ask around at work, and see if anyone knew anything. No one told me that they intended to bring this dog to the pound, that there was no point in even looking for the owner.
And what are the odds that I found the owner last night? Probably pretty slim, but I thought I had, and had discussed it with her. She had recently rehomed the dog, and the dog had gotten loose and the new owner was obviously not looking for her. When trying to find the dog a home, the former owner had called the Shelter of Hope, and asked about dropping her off. She was told that, due to BSL, the dog would be immediately put to sleep. If she brought the dog onto the property, the dog would not only be taken and euthanized right there, but also she would be given an idiotically large fine for having an unfixed pitbull cross.
So the sweet little dog with problems only caused by people was sentenced to death because idiots couldn't leave well enough alone. I can't help but be very disappointed, even if I am a little proud of myself. Within 12 hours, I managed to find the dog's owner, get the story, and find a new home for the dog. It was, however, all for nothing.
A moment of silence for Kela, a pitbull x lab bitch who was murdered for something beyond her control.
Genocide at it's best.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Rantings of a Woman Scorned
I am angry. Very angry. Note the time(4am). I am still at work. It is maybe three hours from my last blog. Except I am consumed with a rage not known to the average man. I want to feel pain. That which is deep within oozes forever upwards, bubbling to the surface in a slow steady goo, creating a swamp of what was once a lush meadow. Cheery landscape replaced by bleak surroundings, nothing the same, everything eventual.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
No one knows what its like
To be mistreated, to be defeated
Behind blue eyes
These blue eyes are windows to a damaged soul. They hide the emptiness, the mistrust. They disguise me, and I mascarade as a steady soul, as a person whole. I am not. I am hollow, a vessel to be filled with pain and suffering, holding happiness for a fleeting moment but absorbing all the anguish. Give me yours, I will take it, I will carry your troubles and leave behind my own. A knife to kiss my skin, to make me feel. The sweet crimson of blood, tainting the air, iron and mineral. What I would give to leave this pain, to forget the pain you caused me. But I cannot. It dwells within, a monster of the grandest proportions, sucking all that is good, growing and consuming. Do you know what you've done to me? Would you even care if I pointed it out?
I want to bleed until my heart beats dry.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
No one knows what its like
To be mistreated, to be defeated
Behind blue eyes
These blue eyes are windows to a damaged soul. They hide the emptiness, the mistrust. They disguise me, and I mascarade as a steady soul, as a person whole. I am not. I am hollow, a vessel to be filled with pain and suffering, holding happiness for a fleeting moment but absorbing all the anguish. Give me yours, I will take it, I will carry your troubles and leave behind my own. A knife to kiss my skin, to make me feel. The sweet crimson of blood, tainting the air, iron and mineral. What I would give to leave this pain, to forget the pain you caused me. But I cannot. It dwells within, a monster of the grandest proportions, sucking all that is good, growing and consuming. Do you know what you've done to me? Would you even care if I pointed it out?
I want to bleed until my heart beats dry.
Introductions
Well, I wanna jump on this blogging bandwagon... as always, I'm a little late on the uptake, but who really cares, right? All the more entertaining. So, as always, I ramble on. Probably should take a moment here to introduce myself. I am Janet. I am 26 years old, I work in a call center providing internet and cable tech support. I live with my roommates, who happen to be my best friends. I have two ferrets and a puppy, and I don't really do all that much. My job is fairly laid back. Working midnights, I have plenty of time on my hands between calls, which encouraged me to pick up this new hobby. I was also creeping someone's facebook and saw their blog and decided it looked like fun(nickle if they read this and message me!).
Well, of course, since I was just writing about how simple my job is, they place me in the busy queue. I hate it. I hate doing cable and billing. Much better at internet troubleshooting. But what can you do? I simply smile and nod, try to stay under the radar and keeping things going as best as possible. Hide the things that'll make my supervisor mad, keep from taking naps and work work work, lol! This month's theme is Empathy. I have none. I fake it, fairly well I guess, but the truth is, I don't care. You were the one who decided not to pay your bill. You were the one who fiddled around with the cables. If it's your fault, well, I want to point and laugh.
I suppose that's not exactly fair. I judge all Americans based on the ones I encounter on the phones. That's not really right, concidering I work in a call center doing tech support... obviously I am not going to get the cream of the crop calling in. Now and then someone with a spot of brains calls in, but those calls are few and far between. Life as a call center employee does not leave your patience intact!
Well, of course, since I was just writing about how simple my job is, they place me in the busy queue. I hate it. I hate doing cable and billing. Much better at internet troubleshooting. But what can you do? I simply smile and nod, try to stay under the radar and keeping things going as best as possible. Hide the things that'll make my supervisor mad, keep from taking naps and work work work, lol! This month's theme is Empathy. I have none. I fake it, fairly well I guess, but the truth is, I don't care. You were the one who decided not to pay your bill. You were the one who fiddled around with the cables. If it's your fault, well, I want to point and laugh.
I suppose that's not exactly fair. I judge all Americans based on the ones I encounter on the phones. That's not really right, concidering I work in a call center doing tech support... obviously I am not going to get the cream of the crop calling in. Now and then someone with a spot of brains calls in, but those calls are few and far between. Life as a call center employee does not leave your patience intact!
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