Resolving Timeline Issues

Archive for the ‘WTF?’ Category

I wrote a bit back about my pet driving peeves. And while these tend to make my blood boil, there’s one other thing that really, really, bugs me.

I am a grammar queen.

“Could have”, people, not “could of”. Hell, I’ll even accept “could’ve”.

Know the difference between their, there, and there they’re.

OMG, my blood pressure.

Which brings me to my issue with CTV’s Olympic Song: “I believe”

It bugs me. Okay, so I’m a bit of a metalhead, but that’s not the reason the song bugs me. It bugs me because it’s gramatically incorrect, all for the sake of a rhyme:

I believe in the power that comes
From a world brought together as one
I believe together we’ll fly
I believe in the power of you and I

It’s you and me. You wouldn’t say “I believe in the power of I” would you?

And this bad grammar is being broadcast all across Canada and around the world.

:facepalm:

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The scene: in the car, dropping Left Coast Mama off and preparing to go in to pick up the Poptart:

Me: Oh, a meter.
Left Coast Mama: Oh that’s okay. They don’t monitor the meters at 6:15pm on a Sunday.
Me: Right.

20 minutes later, I get back to the car, put the Poptart in and find this gift on my windshield:

Famous Last Words

(Click to embiggen if you like).

Edited to add: in no way am I blaming Left Coast Mama, who arranged for a group of us to go to High Tea at the Secret Garden, and whose husband, the ever-gentlemanly @AnthonyFloyd, took care of the Poptart for a couple of hours.

I just happen to have the worst parking luck ever. I almost always luck out and find a spot, but am prone to getting parking tickets. Like the time I parked (illegally) to dash into a bakery for 5 minutes, came back out and found a By-law officer writing me a ticket. I hopped in the car and drove off before they could say anything though. And then there was the time on Commercial Drive when the meter expired 10 minutes before I got there and I had a ticket. On a Sunday. At 5pm.

Before the poptart was born a friend gave me a pile of baby girl clothes and a Fisher Price Kick ‘n Play*. It’s a bouncy chair with an arch that…oh hell. Here’s a link to a picture.

ANYWAYS.

Today we put the Poptart in it, then went to pour some wine and when we came back, she’d flipped herself over and out of the chair.

I guess this is why they say not to use it once the baby can sit up. Which means we have to put it away and find her another chair.

Therefore, I am taking donations of baby/toddler chairs. But not bumbos, thank you.

*This is another one of those things that take THREE AA batteries. This one is extra special in that it takes THREE AA batteries in two different spots: the arch and the seat. Fisher Price, I’m looking at you and saying, WTF? 4.5 volts? MAKES NO SENSE.

To all the people who are not:

  • pregnant
  • having a chronic health condition

And starting next week:

  • immunocompromised
  • healthcare workers
  • caregivers of children under 6 months of age or people with compromised immune systems
  • children aged 6 months to 5 years

And are sneaking in line and lying about one of the above to get an H1N1 shot early.

You suck. You taking that vaccine means that someone who has a greater chance of getting seriously sick or dying from H1N1 goes without. That’s pretty sucky of you. Instead, I offer the following suggestions: wash your hands, carry hand sanitizer, take your vitamins and be patient.

That is all.

Halloween post to come later. I just had to get this off my chest.

Edited to add: As of this evening, Alberta has shut down its flu clinics, except for target groups. If you queue jump in that case, you’ve escalated from being merely sucky to douchebaggery.

Alternate title: I should be stuffing diapers.

Ever have one of those days where you need a really long title to your blog post set out to get things done and it just doesn’t happen?

1. Hiking

This was a big ol’ pile of FAIL. Not only was it sort of icky out, but the Poptart and I slept late and it was too late to go hiking with the group I usually go with.

2. Library Storytime

Then I decided that, since I wasn’t going hiking, I’d schlep the Poptart to the library for storytime.

Except she decided to take a nap and woke up right when storytime would have started.

3. Swimming

So I decided I’d take her swimming. We start waterbabies next week and I have yet to take her to the pool, although we do splash and float in the tub. Except at the pool, we won’t be naked. You have to have a pool rental for that*. The pool out here in Maple Ridge is closed until Monday for their annual shutdown so I thought I’d take her to Coquitlam. So I got everything together, changed into my suit under my clothes, changed her into a disposable diaper (easier to handle at the pool) and set off.

On my way to the bridge, I thought to myself that maybe I should go to Langley instead. And then I thought, no, I would just continue on my way.

And then I went over the bridge, and I thought to myself that I should just go to Port Coquitlam because its closer. But I continued on my way.

And got stuck in traffic. What should have been a 20 minute drive took almost an hour because of construction.

And when I got to the pool? It was closed for their annual shutdown.

Note to self: call and check next time.

So I headed back to Port Coquitlam (through traffic, again) and by the time I got to the pool there, the Poptart had fallen asleep. So we went home and THAT’s when she woke up.

4. Cookie Baking

Those of you that know me somewhat well are probably going “WTF? She doesn’t bake.” Well, I wanted cookies and I had all the ingredients so I baked chocolate chip cookies.

The poptart was fussing, loudly, and had some pretty bad gas going on. She squawked for a bit, I nursed her, she calmed down and then she squawked some more until I gave her some cereal. Then she sucked her thumb a bit and started yelling. Then she got quiet. REALLY quiet. Once I washed my hands for the fifty millionth time, I went over and checked her.

See, I’d thrown her diapers in the wash earlier and they were drying so I put her in a disposable.  I had put a second, smaller load of diapers and clothes on because they needed washing too.

When I checked her, she’d blown through the disposable onto her highchair. And I had cookies in the oven.

I cleaned her up, rediapered her in my last cloth diaper, rescued the cookies, put another sheet of cookies rescued the poptart and put her in her bouncy chair with Baby Einstein.

Thank you, Flying Spaghetti Monster, for Baby Einstein and the people who made it. I don’t know what it is, but it captivates the Poptart and when mommy needs a little time to hide the closet make cookies and do laundry, its great.

Then I gathered up all the dirty laundry and went downstairs to put the load in there on second rinse. Then I thought I might as well put the dirty stuff in and just rewash everything. So I did that, putting soap and borax in.

I went down a bit ago and realized I’d left the washer on “rinse” not “wash”. Because I am Brilliant with a capital B, like that. So I put it on wash instead of second rinse. Because, really, does it matter what order its done in?

I am just stunned that I managed to not burn the cookies and somehow make them so that they are crispy on the edges and soft in the middle, how I like them.

I have a chiro appointment tonight; if it goes like the rest of the day went, perhaps I should cancel it.

*Seriously, groups rent the pool and have naked swim times.

For the most part, I lead a fairly normal, everyday existence. Except, it seems, when it comes to traffic accidents. Or at least incidents that involve ICBC.

A decade or so back, I was driving along on a cold winter morning, hit a patch of black ice, and lost control of the car. I had a choice: I could hit the bushes (choice number 1), a fire hydrant (choice number 2) or a telephone pole (choice number 3). I aimed for the bushes and hoped for the best.

I hit the fire hydrant.  And although my little Chevette didn’t launch into the air on the top of the geyser emanating from what was the fire hydrant, the amount of water was quite impressive.

About a week back, I got a call from ICBC saying saying I’d had an accident on September 2nd in Surrey although I hadn’t been anywhere near there. About 5 years back, I had a motorbike. When I moved in with Darren, the bike was not working so well, I didn’t really want to fix it, so I called a junkyard to come and pick it up and that was the last I heard of it.

I never cancelled the plate because…well, I didn’t. I have no excuse. Some jerkwad has been running around with my old plate for the last  5 years and had an accident. ICBC called me because when they put the plate number into the computer my name came up.

Anyways, that just goes away.

And then, there was yesterday. I picked up Darren from the train, we went to the store and were coming back along the highway. I moved into the right turn lane to, well, turn right. In front of the truck in front of me, this mountain bike comes flying out onto the road.

By which I mean somebody threw it onto the road. “The hell?” I said. The truck swerved to miss it, and then the guy who threw it came out and picked it up so I continued on, thinking that he was removing it from the lane.

And then he threw it again. It bounced off its front tire and hit our car on the back passenger door side. Where the Poptart sits. I slammed on the brakes and Darren leaped out of the car.

The guy was already turning around and walking back to his front door.

Now, Darren is not a small man. He stands 6’2″ and 240lbs (or so). He looks like a cop. He has presence when he wants to.

You can bet that guy turned back around right quick.

And then Momma Bear got out of the car and went and gave him shit for throwing crap onto the road and hitting the car where my daughter sits.

Asshat Mountain Bike Tosser: I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hit the car but I’m sick of these crackheads next door putting their shit on my yard.

Momma Bear: I don’t particularly care. YOU lost your temper. YOU threw the bike and it hit the car right where my daughter sits. YOU could have caused a really serious accident. OWN IT. Unless you’re telling me that the crackheads next door are in charge of YOUR emotions and reactions, and then you have other problems.

There are scratches and dents on the door that need to be repaired. I get to go to ICBC on Thursday sometime.

Oh and the Poptart was completely oblivious to anything that had happened.

But really – who gets hit by a mountain bike that’s tossed into the road?

B.C. will introduce a harmonized sales tax of 12 per cent, replacing the PST and GST effective July 2010, Premier Gordon Campbell announced Thursday morning in Vancouver.

– Obtained from CBC Website. Article dated July 23, 2009.

“I think that before people start talking about tax increases, they should start talking about savings in their own organization,” said Campbell.

– Premier Gordon Campbell, regarding TransLink shortfall and plan for acquiring new revenues, August 1, 2009. Quote obtained from The Vancouver Sun.

Talk out of both sides of your mouth much, Mr. Premier?

The HST is effectively a tax increase for the average consumer. Many things that are now exempt from PST will see the entire new 12% tax put on it. Including things like strata fees.

Oh, and TransLink? You’re screwed.

TransLink had counted on boosting a tax on commercial parking spaces, which now brings in $18 million a year, to raise $57 million annually.

But because the parking tax is a sales tax, it is being eliminated and will be rolled into the HST when it is launched next July 1.

TransLink and transportation ministry officials were scrambling to find a way to fix the problem.

Vancouver Sun, September 3, 2009.

Good thing there’s a review of operations happening at TransLink, eh? Oh, hey, I have a suggestion for you: reduce the number of (unelected) people on that decision-making board. There are nine members. You don’t need more than 5. That’ll cut the costs pretty much in half.

Oh and if they’re not physically present for a meeting? DON’T PAY THEM. That’s right folks – they get paid even if they only have virtual attendance.

Cross-posted at Wet Coast Women.


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