lady_daemon

Hi Kids... I'm back. And what a few months it's been! Now that I can finally have the internet again I hope to be boring the crap out of you all... VERY soon!

Ciao bellas!

God I am so frustrated I could cry, scream, yell or any combination of the three.

What did I do in a previous life that leads the universe to fuck me over? Over and over again?

For a year and a half I have worked at a Doggy Daycare here in H-fax. I have done everything in my power to make the business a success, including but not limited to: setting up the FB page, work on the website, networking, unpaid overtime, staying late, coming in early and risking my life in a car that is not in the best of shape.

My boss, who started out being great has turned completely into a harpy and has slashed my hours in half. She's actually pissed off that I don't live in the city and am not at her beck and call any more. Also, she's discriminating against me. Why? Because I'm not gay.

Dig it.

I am one of the most 'Gay Positive' people on the planet. It has just never been an issue for me. Most of my gay friends are male, it's true.

That being said, my boss tells me not to come in at the last mintue, saying we are not busy, then I find out from our volunteer that someone else worked. Someone not straight. I know my boss wants to get rid of me, but she won't fire me because she doesn't want to pay severance. I hate writing this journal entry, it makes me feel icky. But so many more things have happened that tell me that I am NOT imagining this.

New Years Eve Day was the capper. Boss took in many overnight dogs and she stayed at the daycare with the dogs. I understand she was tired, but we had 21 dogs during the day and she left for three hours in the midde of the day to go home. Leaving me alone. I worked as well as I could with the dogs we had, separating them, giving time-outs when needed... everthing I could. When she came back a customer came in to pick up their dog, a Flat-coated Retriever pup named Rannock.

She asked where Rannock was, and without thinking I said: 'I don't know...' she did not let me finish before abusing me about not knowing where the dog was (he was at the daycare fercrissake). I then said 'He's in the staff room' she got the dog, took it out, then came back and screamed at me: 'Do you know where all the dogs are now? Do you know? What is the customer heard you?' When I tried to tell her that she didn't let me finish she screamed: 'You said it!!!!!!! That was exactly what came out of your mouth!!!!!!!!!' So I took the coward's way out and apologised, saying it wouldn't happen again. 'You got that right!' Nice.

Hmmmm. Prejudice much? Did I mention that I know evertime she goes home in the middle of the day that she has a few beers before getting into her van and coming back?

So frustrating. Love the dogs, love the job... hate the toxic environment. I'm so stressed I'm actually close to going to a doctor for it. Can't sleep, can't eat, drink too much. I really want to quit and slap her with a Discrimination suit. It may not go very far, but if people know she has one against her...

Arrrgh! I hate the fact that a great job has turned toxic!

Phew, I think I'm done. Thanks for listening.

And I know the spelling is terrible... I just don't care right now. :(

Well, here I am again. Haven't been around for a while due to work angst and working on a (da da da daaaaaa!) New Relationship!!!!!

As you know, I had that moment of indecision regarding the ex and new-boy and the Australian PF Show. I didn't go with either of them since new boy couldn't get tickets at the last minute. I didn't tell him about Stupid's offer. I figured it was for the best.

Any-hoo, so far things are loverly. He's a very sweet man, hard working, generous. He lives in a house on a lake! Wheeee! My dogs love him, especially Riley who follows him everywhere and has been dubbed: The Shadow. I have spent every weekend here for the past 2 months, including a bizarrely warm November 12th-14th... during which we sat out in the sun sans shirts and ate an amazing steak dinner on the deck!

He asks my permission to hang out with his friends, I met his Mum 'Mo', he does what he says he is going to do, he calls me Charlie (due to an unfortunate muscle cramp during our first... well, y'know). He takes me to play pool, to shows, he doesn't care that I drive a crappy car and aren't rich.

And he has a Stache! What the? I'm not a big fan of facial hair unless you're Lanny McDonald or Tom Selleck. I always thought it would be a deal breaker in my oh so judgmental youth. But hey, it works for me! I can't see The Boy 2.0 without it.

So far, we're having a boatload of fun! Let's hope it takes!

"Life is a Highway" by Rascal Flatts... WAAAAAAAY better than the original!

Advice please girls.

For the past few weeks I have been seeing this new guy. Don't know if it will take, but I've spent the last 2 weekends at his place, we seem well suited, like the same things, seem to be very comfortable with each other. He makes me tingly when we kiss.

So, tonight while on the dreaded and oh so evil fb The Ex aka The Boy messaged me and asked me if I wanted to go to the 'Australian Pink Floyd Show' with him on Tues. We're still friends, still chat once in a while. He actually said : 'Not a date, two friends going out.' I wanted to give him the big FU for the 'not a date' line...

I like the Ex... if it wasn't for his baggage we'd still be together...

Anyway, should I go? New Guy and I were discussing the same show tonight... saying how cool it would be to see it. I WANT to see the show, it's supposed to be the best thing this side of the real thing... I just would rather see it with New Guy.

I should say no, right? Am I searching for validation? I guess so!

I told The Ex aka The Boy aka Stupid I would let him know by Monday afternoon....

The Dictionary, because it's got all the other books in it.

(stolen from a comedian... I just can't remember who)

And I never will be. Please stop calling me Sister Lewis.

Nor am I a Nun... although current state of sex life suggests otherwise.

Due to circumstances beyond my control (called the economy) I have had to hook myself up with another job. I am VERY lucky to have gotten 'casual on-call' employment with Canada Post. I pick up the odd shift at the processing plant in Halifax.

I am also now a member of CUPE.

Ahhhh!

Unions. Ugh. There, I said it.

I find the whole idea distasteful in this day and age. At least as far as CUPE is concerned. On my first shift the floor rep. was more concerned with me knowing what the union was all about than my being able to do the job. She asked me all sorts of questions... then came over to me twice to say: 'Just so you know Sister, we are going on strike at the end of January. And if one of us is out, we are ALL out.'

Uh, okay. Can I do my job now?

I found it kinda creepy that there was such an obsession with the union. The woman wore badges all over her apron about the union and 'fairness' etc. I was also handed a copy of the 'Agreement between Canada Post Corp. and CUPW'.

It makes War and Peace look like a pamphlet. Yikes!

Even before I worked a single shift the union was sending me letters about paying my union dues. I kept the letter and am going to frame it because it is on CUPE letterhead and was printed upside down! Kinda says it all.

So, you want me to pay you dues from my other job? A job that I love which has nothing to do with mail (save for the fact that historically dogs don't like letter carriers) Uh, no. That will not happen.

What I found the most surreal was the fact that the shift manager had to try and tell me that I had to talk to the union rep without TELLING me I had to talk to the union rep. He had just been promoted to a managerial position and because of that he was automatically seen as the enemy. Poor guy.

50% of a single shift in any pay period goes to union dues. A union that I cannot take advantage of really.

And of course, on my first shift there was the obligatory old woman who was pissed about a newbie casual on-call worker and screamed at me for not doing the job right. I just looked at her and said: 'Sorry, I'm an artist, not all of us were born knowing how to do this job... unlike you.' Sorry lady, I just sort the mail, I don't care that you're old and shriveled. If you are so obsessed with the way I 'tie out' or move carts into the proper area, YOU do it.

That's not to say that I didn't meet nice people. One man, Mike, is most helpful and looks on the whole situation like I do. Go with the flow. Get the job done.

It is kinda fun to sort your own mail, and it is kinda tempting to screw with your ex's mail when it falls into your hands... but I wouldn't. I am, if anything, as honest as I can be.

Still, the union thing rankles. It DOES. People have said: 'You're SO lucky to get in with Canada Post'. I am. I know it. With schools back in and Christmas coming up I will be VERY busy. I will bank what I can, replace Angus 'cause he's getting on in years, and hope for the best. I just... have a problem... with the whole union thing.

They have their place I guess, but the whole idea that because the agreement is 'up' at the end of January there is going to be an automatic strike, bothers the hell out of me. As a normal person. As a tax payer, and as a customer. 99% of my mail is bills. 1% is postcards from Oddbird. But that's not the point.

I ain't Norma Rae... I never will be. If I were ever a union rep I'd be like: 'Seriously guys... XX% of children in Canada live below the poverty line and don't have enough to eat... what say we donate some cash and get er done.' I would last half a day as a union rep.

I don't mean to bitch at a sweet deal... I just HATE the politics. And again, I have 1 brother and 1 sister... I am not your sibling and if you call me 'Sister Lewis' again, I WILL pop you.

I did tell the union rep that she can call me 'Sister Disco' (see: The Who) or she can call me Trisha. I will not answer to anything else.

Just doin' the best I can.

(CUPE and CUPW are the same friggin' thing... sorry for the jump back and forth, but management and the workers call it differently) :)

Hi!

Earl came and went. All good in the wilds of Windsor... but those whose middle names are the same as the hurricane did not fair as well.

Out in the middle of nowhere there was a lot of wind and buckets!!!!! of rain, but we did not lose power until around 3am Sunday and that was intentional black-out. Wile Settlement (where I live) is serviced by a sub-station in New Ross (about 30 clicks away). New Ross lost power, and so, in order to fix the problem for them, they had to shut us down.

No worries! By that time the hurricane had blown by and I took a few candles out on the deck, sat with a glass of wine and watched the sky. The only thing missing was a warm form next to me.

The Boy, unfortunately had a big ol' tree limb (from a tree he had talked about pruning for a year and a half) smash his (relatively) new SUV. A part of me wishes I could laugh at this, but I'm glad I can't. I just don't wish misfortune on anyone... okay that's not true, but we'll leave the murders/baby-eaters out of this.

All in all, not bad.

I, as the only 'city slicker' out here, was the only one to bring everything in from my deck. My neighbours (Uncle Bob and 'the rednecks) did nothing and it was fine... except for the garbage on my lawn.

So, Lady D. makes it through her first official hurricane/tropical storm. Grateful!

I AM the Lindbergh baby.

I know where Jimmy Hoffa is buried

And

I shot JR


Just so ya know.

Oh joy, hurricane season has arrived on the East Coast. Okay, in all fairness, it won't actually arrive until 4am Saturday morning... but still!

Earl is a-comin'! Batten down those hatches! Water! Water! Water! Incredibly sexy middle-aged ex-Torontonians and her two dogs and two cats FIRST!

According to the map, Lady D. is right on the border of Tropical Storm Warning and Hurricane Warning. Well, doesn't that sound like fun.

Last year our big scare was Bill, who ended up dropping about six raindrops and blew a total of three leaves off of trees.

I was not here for Juan five years ago, and Bill was a total bust, but as a Torontonian brought up on stories of Hazel I am working on my emergency preparedness kit. And how woeful it is. Water? No. Food that does not have to be cooked? No. Good radio and plenty of batteries? What's a radio? Cooler? The Boy got that in the breakup. Ice? Does what's growing on my freezer walls count? Flashlight? Yes... I have that... I have 2 in fact. No batteries, but I'm covered in the flashlight department. (As a smoker I have plenty of matches and lighters, and as a girl candles are NOOOOO problem)

I do have plenty of dog/cat food so as long as I get water the critters will be fine.

Oh, and the beer is good. Got that.

I find it uniquely satisfying that Earl is The Boy's middle name.

Wish me and my great neighbours luck!

(I'd post pics after the fact, but you know my problems with LJ)

XOX

Me