January 2004 Archives

Con-template-ation II


More tweaking...

I discovered that certain fonts were displayed in weirdly different sizes, and my beautiful mellow yellow was screamingly fluorescent, depending on which PC was used to view the blog.

I think I've fixed the problems, at least for those using IE. I'd appreciate notes from other browser users - do you see the flowers, does the colour look nice and unfluorescent, and do the fonts seem essentially uniform? I may try experimenting with browser-friendly code, if necessary.

Oh, and praise whatever higher being seems appropriate for MT user support forums!

Will this Cold War never end?

According to Kaspersky Labs, the MyDoom virus most likely originated in Russia.

Does this explain the three hits this blog has had from Russia?

Both the SCO Group and Microsoft have posted rewards of $250,000 US for "information leading to the capture and conviction of the individual or group responsible for the release of MyDoom.B."

In the last week, I have received more than the usual number of infected e-mails, but my various virus thingies appear to have quarantined all the nastiness.

Go to Microsoft if you think your computer has been hit.



Just what is the point?

Yesterday I got the distinct impression that one of my colleagues was having a bad day - my naturally keen senses picked up on the subtle signs, which included slamming doors and saying things like "I'm fed up."

So, in an effort to make this person's morning a little brighter, I took a few minutes at the end of the work day to take care of a couple of little things that otherwise would have been up to this person. I figured that at least today would have a slightly brighter start than yesterday.

Reaction? Nothing. Nada. No thank yous, no sighs of relief, zilch. In fact, I got the feeling that this person was not entirely impressed with the way in which I did these little things - all of which are things I've done before, the same way, to rounds of applause and gushing gratitude.

End result: now both of us are grumbly. Hmph.

Of course, the moral of the story is f--- the rest of the world, they don't appreciate you anyway.


Blog, blog, blog

Believe it or not, I've been working steadily on the site - granted, no recent entries, but I've been salvaging archives, tweaking the template, and adding and editing links on the student resource pages.

Work, work, work...

I'm sitting in my office (did I mention, yay!!) gazing across the snow-covered football field, dazzled by the winter sunlight. Cold it may be, but beautiful, too.

The semester is going very well so far - all three of my class groups are responsive and to date, they all seem to be reading the assigned texts. Of course, there's always that one student whose mission seems to be to make me question myself, the one who sprawls rather than sits, rolls his eyes and mutters, and manages to convey his complete lack of interest and his disdain in a single slouch...

I look forward to grading that paper ;)



Dina wanted new and improved - voila. New, at least. As for improved, feel free to let me know if there are legibilility issues, or if you're just freaked out by the huge flowers.

Of course, compliments are also welcome, should you have any.

Equal time


Since a recent entry was devoted to the bon mots of my older son, I felt it necessary to point out that my younger son, Robert, is capable of reducing his parents to giggling fools, too.

Case in point: Dr. T and I have always tried to be very frank and open about body parts and their related functions (which has led to several inadvertent witticisms from Colin, but this is Robert's entry). As anyone with small male children will attest, at some point all small boys discover the joys of their own penises. Robert is at that stage.

We have not told Robert that he can't touch himself, only that his penis is a private part, and, as such, should (a) remain in his pants whenever possible and (b) be touched only when he's alone.

The other day Robert was, um, occupying himself with his penis while I was putting away his laundry in the same room. So I said "don't forget, Robert, that you should only touch your penis when there's no one else around."

Robert's reply: "Ok, Mummy, you can go away now."

News you need... to look for


Today's Gazette, front page, above the fold: 4-column pic of heartwarming mother-daughter-the-daughter-has-a-terminal-disease duo. Readers are directed to a different section of the paper for the actual story.

Below the fold, one column (which amounts to 3 sentences) is devoted to the story of a West Island doctor who is 'considering' banning the use of hospital resources for private, profitable plastic surgery.

The three remaining columns? How Canadian impersonators are responding to a new Prime Minister.

Meanwhile, on page A7, if you've read that far: Colin Powell admits that there might not be any weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.

Page A7????

My Son

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Colin, my six-year-old son, has some interesting ideas. This afternoon, I asked him to look for a pair of nail clippers (the cat is too sharp these days). He returned empty-handed, and announced that he thinks that "God is taking our stuff."

Later, he read a note from his school, which ends with a reminder about next Friday's ped day: "Day care activities must be registered for." Colin read this aloud, raised his eyebrow, and said " 'For' what? I think this is backwards."

Alas, yes, my son has determined that sentence-ending prepositions are something up with which he will not put.

Just When You Thought It Was Safe...


Bennifer is dead - again.

I thought the engagement was off last fall. Apparently now it's off again.

Thank goodness for media coverage, or we'd never know all the fascinating details of these people's lives.

At least Ben and Jen are easier on the eyes than Wacko Jacko.

Churchill's Parrot


Winston Churchill's parrot is still alive and cursing the enemy. Apparently her favourite expressions are "F--- the Nazis" and "F--- Hitler".


According to the Mirror article, Churchill deliberately taught the parrot to swear a blue streak - and she does it in his voice.


Regular readers, if there are any, will note that I'm back after a day or two of hiatus. This was not deliberate - we think the cat, or possibly the kids, severed our connection. As a result, our IP was changed, and it took a while to get everything back on-line.

And, after all that, this is the only new post. Was it worth the wait?

U can make a difference


In today's Gazette, Bill Brownstein's column is devoted to examining the excesses of well-to-do pet owners. Apparently one can purchase booties for one's dog, to protect against the cold and mess of winter.

Said booties feature "rubber souls."

Meanwhile, in Iowa, the Democratic hopefuls are campaigning non-stop. In an article from the New York Times, Diane Cardwell reports on how the lack of sleep is affecting the various candidates.

The Gazette reprinted the article - I'm not sure which venerable journal was responsible for the questionable hyphenation.

John Kerry, it seems, "is alternately on-point or irritable, sometimes miss-peaking..."

Getting in Touch with my Inner Bitch


I heard about the Bitch Test on the radio the other day, and was reminded by mellowkitty, who, by the way, is waaaaaaay less bitchy.

Monkeying Around


Inspired by the 12 Monkeys Project, here are the jobs I've held, in essentially chronological order:

1. Babysitter: as Bill points out, typical girl job.

2. Retail sales clerk: low points - working at Le Chateau, where the store policy is you must make contact with the clientele at least once a minute, whether or not said clientele is "just looking."

F*%&$ Cold

It's -40.

Not including the wind chill.

That's -40.

Regardless of scale.

I hear it's only -29 C in Montreal...



Well, after months of saying "y'know, we should really do this," we've finally done it. Thanks to Moveable Type, Andrew, and Steve, my blog has a new home.

This is a week filled with movement - not only has my blog been relocated, but I am writing this very entry in my cozy new office! I've moved upstairs, so I'm now with the rest of the English department, and I have the office to myself.

My first day of teaching is tomorrow. In the meantime, I've been hauling books upstairs, washing desks and shelves, dismantling ancient PCs to make room for my laptop, and, when I have a minute or two, planning my courses.

More later!!

Attention, Mile-High clubbers!

Scrap your plans for the orgy at 30,000.

The US Transportation Security Administration, like many kindergarten teachers, has decided that inflight, we can only go to the bathroom one at a time. Yes, that's right - the USTSA "are now requiring that passengers on flights to the U.S. are not to congregate in groups in any areas of the aircraft, especially around lavatories," according to one airline spokesperson.

Sounds like prom night. I bet the USTSA would kick you right off the plane if they found that flask of Southern Comfort in your pocket.

Reverse Psychosis

It's brass-monkey freezing cold outside. I have no reason to go outside. No places to be, no people to see. So why, you ask (or you would if you had read the script beforehand), am I so desperate to get out of the house?

I'm waiting for the Maytag Man, that's why...

Happy New Year!

Well, the hollerdays, as Colin calls them, are over, and a new year just begun. We had a wonderful family-oriented Christmas, with lots of visiting and prezzies and snow(!). Now, Dr. T and the kids are back to the usual grind, and I’m enjoying one more week at home before reprising my Lennoxville routine...

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This page is an archive of entries from January 2004 listed from newest to oldest.

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