So today is Friday...Friday the 29th of September. Do you know what that means? It means that today was the day that I got to pose for pictures for the new Mental Illness pamphlets and posters. The first part was me talking to a dog, which was easy enough. I just kept calling it "puppy puppy" and I'm sure I look like I have mental issues in all of those photos. Then, I got to sit in a chair and pretend to be a client receiving therapy from one of the Therapists. It was a beautiful thing. I kept laughing because we were supposed to be so serious...and because it's awkward posing as something you are not. *ahem* The last part of the shoot was my favorite...I picked up a few of my guys and we went and shot some pool. One of them got paranoid about the cameras, and chose to sit the picture part out, but my other guy...oh man! He had his new shirt on, and his giant hat, and his giant glasses and he was just right into it. The awesomest thing about all of this was the last picture...it's me pretending to shoot a ball and him leaning over my shoulder. The photographer called it "an intimate moment". Hahahaha oh man. I called to tell my boss about it and he was laughing hysterically. I can't wait to see them.
On a brighter note, I called in sick to the liquor store tonight. I actually feel quite shitty, and I think my Friday evening would be better spent sleeping in bed than dealing with people who are drinking too much.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
WHAT do I think I'm DOING?
I have signed myself up for a boxing class. It starts tonight at 7:30. I called ahead, and the guy said that he will yell at me. I hate being yelled at. But I hate being out of shape even more.
I think I'm a sucker for punishment. I'm going early to meet him...he said I could just watch tonight if I wanted, but it would be better if I actually participated. I now feel like if I just sat and watched I would be a failure.
I will let you know how it went when I get home...If I get here alive that is.
I think I'm a sucker for punishment. I'm going early to meet him...he said I could just watch tonight if I wanted, but it would be better if I actually participated. I now feel like if I just sat and watched I would be a failure.
I will let you know how it went when I get home...If I get here alive that is.
Monday, September 25, 2006
It’s 11 pm on a Sunday night…a dark night, but not a stormy one. This is not a scary story. Well, perhaps it is, but not in the traditional way of scary stories. It’s the story of one girls quest to better herself, by way of purchasing her first home.
As you probably know (or should know anyways), I’ve been searching the market for an affordable home to call my own. It’s not that I don’t like living with other people, it’s just that I would really like to have a space that’s all mine, a space where I can cook, clean, lounge, dance and sing in the nude. Or maybe just a place where I can do all of those things any time of the day or night that I wish. I don’t HAVE to be naked. It’s just a bonus that I COULD be naked if I chose to do so.
I was looking through the newspaper classified ads a few weeks ago, and I came across an interesting little ad. It said something along the lines of “Condo for Sale. $89,000. Call to view.” I thought to myself, “I wonder if I could get a mortgage for $89,000. I wonder if this place is a complete dive.” So, I did what any person would do. I went down to the mortgage centre and applied. I honestly didn’t think I’d be approved, but when she told me I could be, my little heart was elated. Right away I called the number of the condo and set up a time to view it. I went to the viewing, and I was ecstatic! It was sooooooooooooo cute! A tiny little Janelle-sized loft!! I wanted to move in right away…but apparently people would prefer that your financing to go through first. Our society is so sad…built on money.
Then the first problem reared its ugly head; the mortgage company would not give me financing unless I had a letter from my employer stating that I am a PERMANENT full-time employee. Since I work in the medical industry, this is a huge problem. They enjoy employing people as temporary full-time…this allows them to get away with not paying for benefits. It also encourages a huge turnover rate which causes all sorts of problems (long emergency room wait times, inadequate care, miserable staff, gastro-intestinal disease, etc.) So, I called up my parents and asked if they would mind co-signing for me. I thought it was an exceptionally great idea, because if they were on the mortgage and I felt like not working for awhile, I could just quit my job and they could pay it for me. (Hahaha just kidding…maybe). Being the wonderful people that they are, they were more than happy to help me out with this, and so the co-signing was done. I figured this would be the end of my problems. I was wrong. I had counted my chickens before they had hatched.
I was waiting and waiting and waiting (not at all patiently) to hear back from the mortgage lady (We’ll call her Deb, because that’s her name) so that she could tell me that it’s all wonderful and I can have the house and extra cash to do the flooring so I could live in a beautiful home decorated to my liking. Well, I waited a week and a half only to have my world crash down last Friday. The mortgage people wouldn’t approve it unless I had 5% to put down. Now, while $4350 may not seem like much, it just wasn’t possible for me to have that money pulled out of my ass immediately. I called my dad crying (ok, I was in hysterics), told him that I couldn’t have the house, and prepared to grieve for the next year or so. But, being the superb people my parents are, they decided to help out their little girl, again. They talked to Deb and put 5% down (which I’m paying back in monthly installments, thankyouverymuch) and enabled me to once again get my hopes back up where they belong.
I called Deb and she seemed happy for me. She’s a very nice lady, but I’m pretty sure she’s sick and tired of me…I’ve been on her case about this from the first minute that I applied. She also had to listen to me cry on Friday afternoon…I’m sure that wasn’t exactly the thing she wanted to be hearing right before her weekend. In all fairness to me though, I hadn’t slept for a week due to my nervous state. She told me she’d call me as soon as she heard anything. That was Friday…this is Sunday. I told the lady who’s selling the place that I have to have it…I will sell my soul for all 510 square feet of that condo!!! I went today with my auntie Sharon to look at it again and get the inspection report. My happiness is riding on whatever happens tomorrow. Tomorrow is the deadline. If the financing doesn’t get approved by tomorrow, the people can sell the place to someone else…someone with CASH. Someone who’s not a single gal trying to buy a place in the worst housing market in Canada (almost anyways.) I NEED this place. I need it so much that I can taste it. Well, I can’t really taste it…I don’t eat condo. But you know what I mean.
So yeah, if you’ve noticed that I’ve been a bit of a stress case lately, now you know why. I did manage to get some sleep this weekend, which was really swell. I enjoy sleeping. A lot. Keep your fingers crossed for me…and please, if you see my parents give them a giant hug. Tell them that their little girl is going to make them proud, and will *eventually* be self-sufficient and independent and hopefully make grandparents out of them one day. I couldn’t possible make them grandparents unless I lived in a loft condo first. It’s just not the way it goes.
Have a fantabulous day!
Janelle
As you probably know (or should know anyways), I’ve been searching the market for an affordable home to call my own. It’s not that I don’t like living with other people, it’s just that I would really like to have a space that’s all mine, a space where I can cook, clean, lounge, dance and sing in the nude. Or maybe just a place where I can do all of those things any time of the day or night that I wish. I don’t HAVE to be naked. It’s just a bonus that I COULD be naked if I chose to do so.
I was looking through the newspaper classified ads a few weeks ago, and I came across an interesting little ad. It said something along the lines of “Condo for Sale. $89,000. Call to view.” I thought to myself, “I wonder if I could get a mortgage for $89,000. I wonder if this place is a complete dive.” So, I did what any person would do. I went down to the mortgage centre and applied. I honestly didn’t think I’d be approved, but when she told me I could be, my little heart was elated. Right away I called the number of the condo and set up a time to view it. I went to the viewing, and I was ecstatic! It was sooooooooooooo cute! A tiny little Janelle-sized loft!! I wanted to move in right away…but apparently people would prefer that your financing to go through first. Our society is so sad…built on money.
Then the first problem reared its ugly head; the mortgage company would not give me financing unless I had a letter from my employer stating that I am a PERMANENT full-time employee. Since I work in the medical industry, this is a huge problem. They enjoy employing people as temporary full-time…this allows them to get away with not paying for benefits. It also encourages a huge turnover rate which causes all sorts of problems (long emergency room wait times, inadequate care, miserable staff, gastro-intestinal disease, etc.) So, I called up my parents and asked if they would mind co-signing for me. I thought it was an exceptionally great idea, because if they were on the mortgage and I felt like not working for awhile, I could just quit my job and they could pay it for me. (Hahaha just kidding…maybe). Being the wonderful people that they are, they were more than happy to help me out with this, and so the co-signing was done. I figured this would be the end of my problems. I was wrong. I had counted my chickens before they had hatched.
I was waiting and waiting and waiting (not at all patiently) to hear back from the mortgage lady (We’ll call her Deb, because that’s her name) so that she could tell me that it’s all wonderful and I can have the house and extra cash to do the flooring so I could live in a beautiful home decorated to my liking. Well, I waited a week and a half only to have my world crash down last Friday. The mortgage people wouldn’t approve it unless I had 5% to put down. Now, while $4350 may not seem like much, it just wasn’t possible for me to have that money pulled out of my ass immediately. I called my dad crying (ok, I was in hysterics), told him that I couldn’t have the house, and prepared to grieve for the next year or so. But, being the superb people my parents are, they decided to help out their little girl, again. They talked to Deb and put 5% down (which I’m paying back in monthly installments, thankyouverymuch) and enabled me to once again get my hopes back up where they belong.
I called Deb and she seemed happy for me. She’s a very nice lady, but I’m pretty sure she’s sick and tired of me…I’ve been on her case about this from the first minute that I applied. She also had to listen to me cry on Friday afternoon…I’m sure that wasn’t exactly the thing she wanted to be hearing right before her weekend. In all fairness to me though, I hadn’t slept for a week due to my nervous state. She told me she’d call me as soon as she heard anything. That was Friday…this is Sunday. I told the lady who’s selling the place that I have to have it…I will sell my soul for all 510 square feet of that condo!!! I went today with my auntie Sharon to look at it again and get the inspection report. My happiness is riding on whatever happens tomorrow. Tomorrow is the deadline. If the financing doesn’t get approved by tomorrow, the people can sell the place to someone else…someone with CASH. Someone who’s not a single gal trying to buy a place in the worst housing market in Canada (almost anyways.) I NEED this place. I need it so much that I can taste it. Well, I can’t really taste it…I don’t eat condo. But you know what I mean.
So yeah, if you’ve noticed that I’ve been a bit of a stress case lately, now you know why. I did manage to get some sleep this weekend, which was really swell. I enjoy sleeping. A lot. Keep your fingers crossed for me…and please, if you see my parents give them a giant hug. Tell them that their little girl is going to make them proud, and will *eventually* be self-sufficient and independent and hopefully make grandparents out of them one day. I couldn’t possible make them grandparents unless I lived in a loft condo first. It’s just not the way it goes.
Have a fantabulous day!
Janelle
Saturday, September 23, 2006
It's really best for everyone if I don't drink.
So, last night Nicole and I decided to get our drink on.
I worked until 10:30, then we went to the Lion's Den to see what was happenin' there. It was really really busy. There were no parking spots and I almost got backed into by a taxi driver. I was angry right from the start. We found somewhere to leave my car and then we headed inside. Because of the extreme gut trauma that rum causes me, I decided to make it a gin night. I started of with a triple, and after 2 of those I was feeling much better about the situation at hand. Once Nicole and I had our buzz going on, we could relax a little...and reflect on the extreme ugliness of Grande Prairie.
While sipping our 3rd drinks, we managed to get our grubby little hands on a wordgame computer. Sounds dorky, I know. But this is just how we roll. When you play the word game, guys always come up and try to "help" us out, but last night, things took a turn for the worse. Some hideous chicks decided they wanted to hang out with us. The one wouldn't quit touching me and trying to talk to me, so I did what any sane person would do: I pretended to be deaf. Everytime she'd lean in to talk to me, I'd turn to Nicole and start using drunken sign language. Luckily, she caught on and did it back. Then the chick would try to talk into my ear. I'm not sure if she knows much about deaf people, but just 'cause you get right up in someones ear doesn't make them stop being deaf. The highlight of this was when I'd be singing along to the music and pretend I could "feel it" through the counter of the bar. Finally, when I'd had enough of this, Nicole and I found a table to sit at where we could laugh about the sitation and carry on a conversation with words. The stupid girls came and sat with us. I found a boy to tell them that we were deaf and that we were getting annoyed with their bantering.
Last call was announced...Nicole said we had to get another drink. I'm pretty sure that's the one that made me sick.
Oh yeah, we were standing by this wall and there was this guy and we were both discussing our recognition of his face. After a few moments of staring at him and talking about him, Nicole realized where we knew him from: "One of us hooked up with him...I think it was you." After more careful consideration, I realized she was right. We laughed for awhile, and I just thought to myself "thank god he's a cutie." He probably knew all along and thought I was a complete bitch for staring at him and not saying hello. Oh well, I think we'll all live.
After the bar we went to the donair place and got some pizza. I didn't order pizza, it just came up and I bought it. We had a cell phone that Nicole had found on the ground at the bar, and we made phone calls with it. Then the girl who owned the phone called us and demanded that we give it back to her. I chose a chinese accent for these calls. She made fun of my chinese accent...I told her the phone was mine...I had given some guy head in a car at the bar and he had given me the phone. Because she was so rude about it, we disposed of the phone...but not after calling people in her phone book and leaving "I just wanted you to know that I'm having your baby" messages. Le sigh. The things we do because of alcohol.
So today I'm sick like a dog and probably going to waste the day away by sleeping. Rest assured there won't be any more drunken nights for me for awhile.
I worked until 10:30, then we went to the Lion's Den to see what was happenin' there. It was really really busy. There were no parking spots and I almost got backed into by a taxi driver. I was angry right from the start. We found somewhere to leave my car and then we headed inside. Because of the extreme gut trauma that rum causes me, I decided to make it a gin night. I started of with a triple, and after 2 of those I was feeling much better about the situation at hand. Once Nicole and I had our buzz going on, we could relax a little...and reflect on the extreme ugliness of Grande Prairie.
While sipping our 3rd drinks, we managed to get our grubby little hands on a wordgame computer. Sounds dorky, I know. But this is just how we roll. When you play the word game, guys always come up and try to "help" us out, but last night, things took a turn for the worse. Some hideous chicks decided they wanted to hang out with us. The one wouldn't quit touching me and trying to talk to me, so I did what any sane person would do: I pretended to be deaf. Everytime she'd lean in to talk to me, I'd turn to Nicole and start using drunken sign language. Luckily, she caught on and did it back. Then the chick would try to talk into my ear. I'm not sure if she knows much about deaf people, but just 'cause you get right up in someones ear doesn't make them stop being deaf. The highlight of this was when I'd be singing along to the music and pretend I could "feel it" through the counter of the bar. Finally, when I'd had enough of this, Nicole and I found a table to sit at where we could laugh about the sitation and carry on a conversation with words. The stupid girls came and sat with us. I found a boy to tell them that we were deaf and that we were getting annoyed with their bantering.
Last call was announced...Nicole said we had to get another drink. I'm pretty sure that's the one that made me sick.
Oh yeah, we were standing by this wall and there was this guy and we were both discussing our recognition of his face. After a few moments of staring at him and talking about him, Nicole realized where we knew him from: "One of us hooked up with him...I think it was you." After more careful consideration, I realized she was right. We laughed for awhile, and I just thought to myself "thank god he's a cutie." He probably knew all along and thought I was a complete bitch for staring at him and not saying hello. Oh well, I think we'll all live.
After the bar we went to the donair place and got some pizza. I didn't order pizza, it just came up and I bought it. We had a cell phone that Nicole had found on the ground at the bar, and we made phone calls with it. Then the girl who owned the phone called us and demanded that we give it back to her. I chose a chinese accent for these calls. She made fun of my chinese accent...I told her the phone was mine...I had given some guy head in a car at the bar and he had given me the phone. Because she was so rude about it, we disposed of the phone...but not after calling people in her phone book and leaving "I just wanted you to know that I'm having your baby" messages. Le sigh. The things we do because of alcohol.
So today I'm sick like a dog and probably going to waste the day away by sleeping. Rest assured there won't be any more drunken nights for me for awhile.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Welcome to the psych ward
Hello blog-readers,
Due to overwhelming requests (ok, so Jeff said I should), I have decided to start my own blog. I'd like to tell you that this is my first attempt at the world of blogging, but that would be a lie. I actually have 4 now, including this one. I'll be the first to admit that I am a nerd. Now that I've come right out and said it, you won't need to.
I actually have nothing to say right now. I haven't slept for over a week, and I'm coming down with a cold/flu thing that I received from some of my clients (sharing is caring.) Basically, I'm just babbling with my hands right now because I am trying to avoid feelings.
I'll write something sometime when I have something to say.
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