Monday, July 4, 2011

Happy independence from the British days.

Well, the 3rd busiest day of the summer has now gone by, finally. Canada Day, or as I always know it, Dominion Day was on Friday. All I can say is YAY. I was in the Grain Elevator, and it wasn't too bad. The engine died on me halfway through the day (I determined it was a dirty spark plug and I was right! yay me.) but otherwise everything went smoothly. 
Sunday was a weird day though. I just had strange customers, like the lady who insisted that the leg, storage bins and hopper area of the elevator were new because she didn't remember it from the last time she came to the Park, over 10 years ago. All I could reply without sounding snarky was "No ma'am... Those are the original storage bins..." Then she asked me if I had anything to do with some heritage site in Saskatoon which " is like Heritage Park, it's all outdoors, but it's all under one roof, it's smaller." Not entirely sure what she was talking about... She was just odd. And then there was the guy that was surprised when I told him that grain elevators stored grain up high. When people are surprised by the things I tell them, it's sometimes hard not to laugh, I must admit.
Today was a bit on the awful side of things. It started badly, when I got to my site and had a terrible migraine. Then I had to work and bake and such, while the migraine faded in and out. The Lead Hand I like the least is back today, in all her random insistence of control... She did rounds in the settlement when another LH had just done them... I don't understand her. 
Today was also the start of the Day Camps! This year we're trying out an overnight camp which has a story that leads them to search out the notorious El Guapo, a whiskey trader being chased by Constable Frappé. I am the town gossip, a role I'm rather enjoying.
Then off to take a filler shift at the pharmacy. No crazy stories there for once, everything was simple and steady.
Charming's car has broken down. When I say that, I mean the repairs to make it driveable would be worth more than the car. So, he's now searching for a new car, which I'm excited about because it means we get to go test driving! He also has expensive taste in cars, which means test driving Cadillacs, Infinitis, that sort of thing. 
I'll try to be more consistent about blogging, it's been an exhausting week.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Well, THAT'S not supposed to happen...

...was the mantra at work today. 
The day started with a group asking me "When does the Hospital open?" (meaning an exhibit) I was standing there, not in costume, but clearly carrying it with me, with a confused look on my face. I gave the best reply I could think of "Uh... All the exhibits open at 10..." Why one would open earlier than the others is beyond me.
I was in a cooking site today, making pinwheel cookies, which are basically chocolate and vanilla swirl cookies.

Like these. Credit
Anyways, you make them by making regular cookie dough, then halving it and adding melted chocolate to one half, then layering and rolling. (On a side note, I've FINALLY perfect the art of creaming butter for cookie dough without an electric beater. It involves a lot of elbow grease.) Note that you must melt the chocolate. I had a very nice saucepan that was entirely metal, but would work perfectly. I smartly covered my hands when touching the saucepan, and once it was melted, poured the chocolate on the dough and left it to talk for a minute or two.
This is where the trouble starts. I then put my hands in to mix the chocolate with the cookie dough, the chocolate still being boiling hot. I burned myself HARD on that damn chocolate. Right now, my pinky is still blistered. Anyways, I screamed and practically threw another interpreter out of my way in my attempt to get my finger in the pail of cold water in the corner (no taps, remember). Fortunately, this interpreter stayed in my site while I ran my finger under cold water for a bit. When I went looking for a band-aid, i discovered that my first aid kit was missing (a problem in and of itself) and didn't have one. I resorted to mixing with one hand (the chocolate had cooled) and holding the bowl with the other while my pinky was in cold water. Eventually some of the character interpreters (vignette actors) got me a band-aid, and things were generally well with my finger after that.
While I was dealing with my finger, a call went out on the radio (which the other interpreter happened to have since she was technically a tour guide today) to security that a dumpster was on fire near one of the houses. We're not talking a little smoke, this thing was in flames. No one's sure what happened, but we did call the fire department into the Park.
On less dangerous notes, there was a school group that was required to go to the Church and either sing or hear a song sung. Fortunately for my friend in the Church, they chose to sing. in perfect harmony. From memory. It was gorgeous.
I have a few school group stories that I'm planning on sharing, but that will have to wait for another day.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Rain rain, go awa- Orrrr not.

It's been pouring buckets ever since I came home from Germany. Not fair. It's June. I'm supposed to be tanning after work, not finding more sweaters because I'm freezing. Plus, no one wants to walk around the Park with it's dirt (now mud) roads and wooden (read FUCKING DANGEROUS) boardwalks. It's just not fun. Especially for the women who for some reason decide that they are going to wear their nice dress and heels to walk around in all day. I will never understand that. I've seen them many times, and they're usually complaining about how their feet hurt. No shit Sherlock, you decided to wear heels to walk around some called Heritage PARK, which is not the same as a mall, ie NOT PAVED. I'm glad I wear ropers for work, although they cursed me today.
Note the above mention of our "fucking dangerous" boardwalks. I was walking back from my lunch break when out from under me go my feet. I landed hard on my right leg and couldn't get up for a minute or two. In pouring rain. While sitting on my ass on wet boardwalk. Not fun. Took almost the whole afternoon to get my skirt to dry out. Not that I was doing anything important. My shortbread cookies were done, and I had exactly two groups of 4 visit me in the 3 1/2 hours left in the day. I just sat around and played with my phone I MEAN read and knitted. Yeah.
I also worked at the Pharmacy this evening. Nothing of any terrible excitement happened, except that frontstore kept trying to send calls back to us after we'd closed. Apparently some guy yelled at one of the cashiers "I need my patches and you're supposed to be open until 10!!" Which is total bullshit, we've closed at 9 for the entire 2 years that I've been at the store. Too bad, so bad, we close at 9 and I don't pick up the phone after that. Once I explained that to frontstore, they stopped picking up the phone too. Lovely ladies tonight!
The same thing happened to me last week. A woman walked in at 5 minutes to 9, with a prescription for her son. He had a name that I knew meant trouble. His mother almost never actually comes into the pharmacy, she usually gets deliveries, which explains the next insanity. Anyways, she comes in with an Rx for an antibiotic and a medication that helps with bedwetting (called DDAVP)  for her son. Unfortunately, DDAVP is not a common one for us to fill, so we don't have any in stock, and I've already sent the order, so we'd have to FastPharm (urgent same-day delivery) it the next day. To a normal person, that would be acceptable, seeing as we're almost closed, but to this woman it's an utter outrage. How DARE we not have drugs in stock?! She's also apparently never heard of sending an order for medications (how they get to the pharmacy otherwise is beyond me) and can't believe that we close at 9. Clearly, she 
a) has not physically walked into the store in 2 years 
b) didn't read the big signs posted in 3 different places at the entrance noting that we close at 9 and
c) has never actually wondered where her prescriptions come from.
All of this culminated in me getting yelled at over something that was 80% her fault. She whined about having to move her prescription to another pharmacy, because apparently it HAD to be done that night. Look, your kid is 9. Yes it sucks that he still wets the bed, but at the same time, put up with it for one more night if you hate moving pharmacies so much. She also tried to argue with me about what time we closed. I pointed out that the phone is usually ringing off the hook, but is totally silent because it automatically gets rerouted to the answering system after 9pm. She argued that no one was calling at this hour.
And why would that be ma'am? "Because it's 9pm! Everyone's home and done their work and errands!" Ma'am, I'd like to be doing that right now too, seeing as we're closed.
She didn't liked that and stormed off to another pharmacy up the hill.
Was I a bit rude? Probably, but at the same time, she's preventing me from going home after having gotten up at 730am to help up around the house in the morning (my mom is recovering from surgery) then driven for half an hour across town to one job, worked for 7 hours, then driving back across town in rush hour traffic (took me over an hour to get to work that day) and then working on my feet for another three hours with bitchy customers, bitchy front store and a tired brain and body. So, goodbye, come back tomorrow, I don't feel like dealing with your shit anymore.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Historically Inaccurate Amusments

I doubt I've mentioned it here, but I freaking love my jobs. Right now especially working at the Park. It's school tour time, which means that we get an insane amount of schoolkids in for about 3 or 4 hours, then the Park is dead. (we open at 10, and most of the kids have to leave for school by 130-2) That means that you can have a nice relaxing afternoon, or if you're in the Settlement (an area separated from most of the Park) you can sit with everyone else outside your site waiting for people to come by. Yesterday I was working in the cooking site down there, Livingston House, and everyone managed to come to the house on break at the same time. Not planned, it just happened. Then my two supervisors (called Lead Hands) walked in at the same time and I had about 6 people sitting in the room, all laughing and joking and just enjoying each other's company. I absolutely adore days like that. They just make everything worthwhile, all the annoying questions from the kids, the kids who don't listen to what you tell them, the adults who have to pick every corner of your brain. Right now I have a couple of fantastic bosses, one who is just filling in and the other who is essentially training the other. They're both around my age, so we all get along.
We have one story from one of my cowokers who filled in as an LH last year about our scheduler who is about 180 years old and sometimes freaking insane. She told my friend to sit at the desk because she needed a "soda cracker break." I shit you not, that's exactly what she said. She takes soda cracker breaks and stares at the break board because someone apparently always does it wrong (even though all sites are covered!) So she eats her soda crackers and blinks rapidly while staring at the board, trying to figure out what's wrong with it. Of course, she changes it, and no one is there to see the changes she makes, but it makes her happy, and you have to keep the old people happy, right?
There will certainly be more Park stories to follow, I'm simply too tired to put up some of the better ones today.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Back to the Grind

(Double post today because the other one was a saved draft that I needed to edit.)
Yesterday was my first day back at work at both jobs. At the Park it was School Patrol Day, where all the school patrollers in Calgary get to have a day celebrating them. (School Patrollers are grade 5/6s who guard crosswalks and make sure kids can get home safely.) That means 7000 kids in the Park during the day... It is a rather painful experience. I was in a site called The Rectory, which was the home of the rector or minister of the Anglican Church in a town. I stood in the kitchen because I could put a chain up and keep some distance if I needed to from the kids. Well, I had one girl who told me my clothes were ugly (I wear a mint green floor-length skirt and a flower patterned blouse - rather nice actually!) and was chased out by her friends who told her how rude she was. 
I had another girl, closer to 11 or 12, ask me about washing dishes in 1910. I explained that we would wash them by collecting water, heating it on the stove and washing in basins. She replied "yeah and I know I just came from Dominican and the ladies were washing clothes in the river so I understand why they had rivers in the old days now." (Internal monologue: Ummm... What. The. What?!) External voice: "Um, we didn't build the rivers... They were there before."   The girl: "Really? Ohhh..." I was tempted to go into an explanation about why most cities exist on rivers but I think it would have just flown over her head. The chaperone in the room (not her mother, but someone else's mother) didn't actually know how to react, so she just walked away.
It was also my first day back at the pharmacy, and was a rather nice night. Things were slow and I didn't have and difficult patients. I had one understanding regular when I called her 3 times after getting the cost of her order wrong... Then I got into a discussion with my PM about pharmacy history and the practice in other countries. As I told my dad when I got home, only I could go to work at my pharmacy and come home with a book on history. My PM gave me a book called "A History of Pharmacy in Alberta" because I enjoy history of my work. It's actually quite dry and a poor historical reference, but it's interesting that someone took the time to do the work and put everything together. 

The Sequel - Returns!

I'm back from Germany! The trip was more than wonderful. I had a fantastic time, and I spent time with some great people. That being said, I had a falling out with a friend whose reactions I'm still confused by. Essentially, he whined that I wasn't treating him fairly (reasonable) because I treated him like he was younger. He's a year younger than me and has been living in Germany for 6 months and basically just did another year of high school. I've just finished 2 years of university. Um, duh, you are younger, and yes I am going to be more mature, that's the way growing up works. No matter who did what after our fight and subsequent separation, I just left him alone until I sent him a message about getting his banking info so I could transfer the money I owe him. The answer was reasonable, then he asked about the hostel I stayed in while I was in Hamburg. I had an awesome place in Hamburg and told him so. His reply? "Oh, well I found a couple places in St Pauli and one right off the Reeperbahn." Umm, okay, good for you? I"m not in Hamburg anymore. "I'm going to see other friends and family anyways." Uh... What? Why did you ask for my opinion, then just try and slam me? Remember when we had that conversation about maturity?
Onto more interesting topics, my hostel in Hamburg! I had initially booked for Friday and Sunday because there were NO places Saturday night. I paid extra and booked an all female dorm. On my arrival, I explained the situation and the guy checking me in explained that there had been a few cancellations, so I could stay all three nights in the same room! And for 5 Euros, I could have breakfast each morning. Good deal! So first night is pretty uneventful. I went to a party and got back at 3am... and somehow lost my key card. *facepalm* Fortunately, the front desk is staffed 24/7 and the guy was nice enough to let me into my room, but couldn't give me a card. I had to pay 5 Euro the next morning for a replacement, but I deserved it. The second night something changed in my room. Suddenly of the 8 beds in the room, I was the only one who stayed from the previous night and the other 7 were filled with teenagers within a year or two of my age (around 16-18 I'd say) and coed. Now, I don't mind coed dorms, but I paid for all-female. So, I head down to the desk, calmly explain the situation and was told that there had been a minor mix up, but to compensate for the extra I'd paid, they would give me free late checkout (until 1pm). I can't praise the staff enough for the kindness and understanding I was constantly shown. Now THAT is customer service. 
I enjoyed going over and seeing a lot of my family that I don't see very often. My brother is currently living in Berlin, and I hadn't seen him in about 6 months, and I missed him very much. I also rediscovered an adoration for Bavarian culture and German history. With any luck/motivation, I may begin doing historical posts similar to Dr. Grumpy. Seeing as the name of this blog is "Historically" I feel that I should do more historical posts.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

I'll do it tomorrow.

Dr. Grumpy is a nautical history buff and it's inspired me to do more historical updates.
I don't have time to write a whole blog post right now as I'm in the whirlwind of packing and preparing to leave on Saturday, so I will begin once I come home. I currently have almost no readers, but I'll put this out anyways. Are there any historical events that interest people that they'd like to hear more about? I'm going to attempt to have a once a week post. Any ideas, please send them in!

Monday, April 25, 2011

Foodie Moment

I am a foodie. I love food. I love making it, I love eating it and I love trying new things (provided they aren't spicy or contain cilantro or bulgar/couscous.) That being said, this blog post is about one of the simplest things in your kitchen that I find utterly delicious.
Melted butter on toast. 
Dead simple, but I like it. Why? I don't honestly know. I think toast is my comfort food and since I don't often like the jams that are in my kitchen, butter keeps me content. I don't like white bread, I really only eat whole wheat (the exception being hamburger buns and baguettes.) but even beyond that you can get breads with different things in them to change it up. Cinnamon raisin bread with butter or cheese bread suddenly make the plain and simple interesting and delicious.

I'm leaving for a month in Germany on saturday, so updates will be almost non-existent while I'm over there. yay spring travelling!

Thursday, April 21, 2011


Some people who come to the pharmacy make me want to tear my hair out. This may seem like a common issue but let me explain what happened last night...
This woman had been speaking to our pharmacists all week about getting her meds blister packed. Not a huge concern, we just have to work it out. 
Well. She was in the store for THREE HOURS. She was talking to the only pharmacist for almost the entire time. I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off doing as much work in the back as I can that didn't require a pharmacist. Then I had a gentleman come in picking up a cream that he'd never had before that had some special ingredients. I know nothing about it so I tell him he can wait if he'd like to speak to the pharmacist. He stood there for nearly ten minutes while my poor pharmacist talked to this woman. He eventually left and I apologised. Fortunately he understood.
When my pharmacist finally finally finally got this woman to agree on something, he wants her to pay. She then hands him a debit card but apparently doesn't know how to use it and doesn't remember giving it to him (30 seconds prior). So he then asks her how she wants to pay and she tells him "I don't know." Cash, cheque, another card? "No, no I want to know how much I spend I can't use those." Ohhhhkay... The woman then says she'll be back (I think she normally walks out without paying because she's afraid of admitting that she doesn't know what to do) and she certainly does come back... Ten times. Uggggggggh. I've started to work on her grid for her blister pack that ends up being cancelled half an hour before we close. I wanted to strangle her. She has no idea what she wants, she doesn't know how to pay and she claims she wants to continue administering most of her meds on her own... So the point of the blister pack was what?
Another woman called us in the middle of this asking about her prescription in the drawer to be picked up. It's a controlled narcotic which she normally gets in a different town but was with us for some strange reason this week. Well, she wants me to blister pack it for her, because she's supposed to take 9 a day (3 three times daily) but sometimes she "forgets and takes fewer." Yeah. Sure you take FEWER of your high strength narcotic than you're supposed to because "sometimes I don't need them so I don't take as many as I'm supposed to." This is fishy and I have less than an hour left at work and a counter full of baskets to be filled. So I tell her that if she's not staying with us there's no chance we will make it for her. She also was owed some pills because we didn't have enough last night. So I would not be making a blister pack for her, I would be making a comittment for the daytime staff to do something within the first half hour of opening. No freaking way am I doing that, they'd have my head on a platter! I told her it wasn't happening. She tried to pull the sympathy card, that her other drugstore does it and she has an appointment, blah blah blah. Call me insensitive, but I don't care in the slightest. The amount of work we would put in for her ONE TIME is not worth it because she'll be going back to her other drugstore as of the next day.
In other news, classes are done and I'm studying for finals. I really can't wait until they're over, because when they are, I get to leave for Germany for a month! 

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Dreams are trending apparently.

Well now I'm hopping on the "dreams about work" bandwagon. Last night I was so confused and upset I'm not surprised that I woke up in a bad mood.
I'm at work starting the day by training someone on our opening procedures which now include pancakes apparently. So I'm making the pancakes on our server when I realize that we have TEN people working behind the counter to start the day. We never have ten people working in the back ever. Then the clients start arriving... There's a neverending line of them at the counter. Then, we have this weird dohickey that is apparently a dictaphone and a thermometer... All in one! 
One guy wants to check his temperature but because I can't figure how the computer program it's hooked up to works, he can't. Then someone wants to record a message on the dictaphone part to my boss (who is ten feet away so I don't understand why they can't just tell him) But a computer error keeps coming up that I can't play it back on that computer, it'll only play on the "downstairs" computer (there's no basement in my pharmacy...) And to top it all off, there's a never ending line of people who need their prescriptions... 
UGH, dreams suck. 

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Not dead

I know it's been a while, I've been caught up with school and Stage Managing a play for the university.
I'd thought I'd come back with a story about a woman I called yesterday from the pharmacy. She *apparently* didn't have any blister packs left (even though she should have had another week left) so I had to fill 4 weeks for her (which was another story of a missing narcotic because someone hadn't cleared an owe... UGH)
I call her to let her know that it's done and she can send her grandson to pick it up.
Me: "Hello, could I please speak to Crazy?"
Crazy: This is her.
Me: Hi there, it's ME from the pharmacy, just wanted to let you know that your blister pack is ready to be picked up. We didn't have enough of one drug to fill all four weeks, so we've just got one week right now.
Crazy: It's ready and what?
Me: (A bit louder) We only had enough to fill for one week right now.
Crazy: WHAT? I can't hear you!
(At this point I realize that I can hear loud noises in the background, so I start yelling)
Me: You're only getting one wee-
Crazy: WHAT??
Crazy: I can't hear you, the TV's on too loud, I'll figure it out when I see it dear!
Me: *facepalm*

I can imagine her anger when her grandson came home with only one week of her blister pack... Had she turned down the effing TV she would know why! 

Monday, January 31, 2011

How to Walk Down a Hallway

There are few things at a university that irk me more than slow walkers. I understand you don't have a class right now, but I do. GTFO of my way. Here's my handy little guide to travelling from place to place. 
1. Don't walk so fucking slow. I don't care where you're going or how much time you have to get there, please quicken your pace to more than 20 BPM. (beats per minute) Andante, the musical term for walking speed is 76 - 108 BPM. Speed up.
2. If you are going to walk slowly talking to your friends in a crowded hallway, go two and two. not all four abreast. Why? Because I'm moving faster than you, and when you walk four abreast I can't pass you. Nor can the people going in the opposite direction even walk by you. You're retarded and everyone hates you. This is negated if you and I are the only people walking through the hallway - I will likely have enough space to go around.
3. For those of you who are walking alone somewhere (no judging, I do this a lot) through an empty hallway, don't move around so that the person trying to pass can't. Basically, don't block people. (I had someone do this to me today - he somehow managed to take up the whole hallway all by himself. It was quite a feat.)
4. DON'T CUT CORNERS. You look like an idiot when you run into me while I have the right of way. When I am turning right around a corner, I will hug the corner. When I am turning left, I make a wide turn so I don't head on collide with someone. 
5. Walk on the right. I realize that in England, Australia and many Asian countries the left has right of way. Not in Canada. Walk on the right and I won't give you a pissy look. especially on stairs. Why the hell do you need to walk on the complete opposite side of the stairs anyways? I look like a bitch and I WILL run you down if you're on the wrong side.
Am I getting worked up over nothing? Maybe, but it REALLY  pisses me off, and if someone is willing to give me the space to complain, I will do just that.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Do your job... Or I'll do it for you.

I understand that waiters and waitresses have difficult jobs. I consider myself lucky not to work in food service and have a really good job elsewhere. Usually I can sympathize. However, last night there was no reason in the world that our waitress should have acted like she did.
Here's the story.
It was Charming's brother's birthday last night, he turned 18 and can legally drink in Alberta. To celebrate, he and a bunch of friends went to Schanks, a sports bar. I offered to DD him and Charming and a couple other friends. No problems, I was fine not drinking. I have to make an extra trip, so I wasn't there when they first arrived at the bar, so the first part of this story is secondhand from Charming. In this bar, you seat yourself. They were a large group, so trying to find a big non-reserved table wasn't easy. They flagged down a waitress to ask if they would be able to sit at a table that had a sign saying "Reserved at 7:30" (by this time it was 9, almost 10) No one was sitting there, but you can't be too careful. The waitress they asked said it would be fine. So they sit down and wait. Eventually another waitress comes up and doesn't greet them kindly, doesn't ask politely, instead yells "Who said you could sit here!" What a fantastic start, because now everyone's going to really want to stay. Anyways, Charming explains what happened, and her response was that she would have to check with a manager if they could sit there. So they wait some more. Being mostly 18 year old boys, they got thirsty and went to the bar for drinks, and paid at the bar. Not usually a problem... unless your waitress is Miss Psycho. She came back and saw they had drinks and screamed at them again and insisted that everything else had to go through her. Well fine, but you have to be around to be ordered from to justify your hissy fits. Anyways, they agree, and Charming pays for the first round and some food.
At this point I arrive and I'm thirsty as well as a little hungry, but i didn't particularily want what had been ordered, I just wanted honey garlic wings. So I waited nearly fifteen minutes after arriving to order a Sprite and chicken wings. I can understand that it was a Saturday night and it was busy. But even Charming could see who our waitress was, and we weren't exactly hidden in a corner, we were with quite a few other tables that I would think would be part of her section. Anyways, she finally comes over and we tell her some more people have arrived and we'd like to order more. She kind of huffs and says that Charming has to pay her right away (which is fine, he doesn't really care.) Eventually we get everything and Charming then tells me that he's been trying to tip her really well the whole night in the hopes that good tips will encourage her to come back. It took a little while, but she eventually warmed up to us. Some guys wanted more to drink that she was coming around to take orders for, so they ended up parking at the bar for a little while. I waited until I saw her punching in an order and just walked up and said "When you have a minute, I'd like to put an order in." She told me that I could wait right there and she'd take it in a minute. Eventually we saw her more and more. As the night was winding down, she came by and asked if anyone wanted more food. She was standing by the girls who were airheadly chatting to her, while the guys decided that they wanted food. Unfortunately, these girls had already sent her away because THEY didn't want food. Ugh. My Bro then decided he wanted food, so I pointed out our waitress to him, but he somehow manages to flag down someone who isn't a waitress, she just runs the games... and our waitress came up and made a bit of a scene. Why? Who the hell knows! I'd already chastised my Bro for calling hte wrong girl in front of her, so I really didn't see the need to do that. Anyways, we probably left a couple hundred dollars that night, consistiently tipping 20% and often more as encouragement for her to come back.
I can see a couple reasons why she might have avoided our table a little. One, a bunch of 18 year old boys who likely aren't going to tip well and will just get really drunk. However, Charming is 20, I'm 19 and I was sober and could have handled anything. Charming, even when drunk is still pretty sober. So she didn't have to worry if we were taking care of the money. Two, she was really freaking busy. This one only flies if we had seen her running around, which we hadn't at all. Three, she was about to get evicted, her boyfriend cheated on her and her parents just told her she was adopted. I can understand if you're having a bad day. I've had days where I have absolutely no desire to go to work, let alone smile when I'm there. But I do it anyways because that's good customer service. Whatever her reasons, I'm sure she walked away with some healthy coin in her pocket from us, even after having to share it around the staff.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard Lombardi!

I am so happy at this moment. Why? Because my glorious team is going to the Super Bowl!! Yes ladies, but mostly gentlemen, I am a die hard Packers fan. (My boyfriend can attest...) When I visited Wisconsin a few years ago, I made my dad stop and buy me a Brett Favre jersey, which is a size L and practically a dress on me. It, in addition to my Packers belt buckle (which my bro' gave to me.) are my favourite things to wear during football season. What makes this even better is that my dad is a Chicago Bears fan. You read that right. My father is a Bears fan, as are my older brother and my little sister, and I, the proud rebel, am a Packers fan. I'm not usually allowed to watch games with my dad when we play each other. I was lucky that today was such a big game.
Speaking of the game, I'll give my little highlights.
Opening drive: Hell yea, Pack score. Rodgers, as usual, passes like a champ, Sparks on the ground can't be stopped, and Aaron has feet faster than office workers on Friday. 
The Field: I make endless comments on how crappy Soldier Field is. I mean really, it's shit. When Urlacher "supposedly" slipped on a tackle, I turned to my dad and said "wanna know why he slipped?" Dad just rolled his eyes. (I say supposedly because Aikman said he slipped, but on replay he clearly hadn't - it was just a fantastic deke!)
Bears D: What the hell happened? There is NO WAY we should have been able to walk all over them like that...
QBs: Oh Cutler... You spend more time on the ground than above it. Apparently he injured his knee early, which is why he didn't play the second half. Lord only knows why the Bears wanted Collins as their 2nd string - he was terrible!! Heinie (sp?) was the only Bears QB who did anything all game. And because he was inactive as the 3rd stringer, neither Cutler or Collins could have come back into the game. 
All in all, it was a good game. Not too close to be a nail biter, but not so far that I got bored. my dad's even agreed to take me to the bar for the Bowl, and commented that he'd wear my Favre jersey. I told him the only way he was wearing this jersey was if he bought me an Aaron Rodgers. Which I really really want, but don't have the money for.
Also, for those of you that don't know or didn't get it, the Super Bowl trophy is called the Vince Lombardi trophy. Lombardi was a Packer coach in the 1960s - he was so good that they named the Super Bowl trophy after him. Not bad eh?
In other news, I've been reading a blog, Hooters According to Sauce. She's an employee of a Hooters in Montana, and I think it's pretty cool! I applaud women who feel confident enough in themselves to wear those shorts and tank tops and deal with creepers all day. I personally don't have that confidence - it's slowly building, but I'm not there yet. I also realized that I've never been to a Hooters, probably because my mom was a bit of a feminist. She always insisted that I pay for at least half the date, don't let a man control me, etc. I took a lot of those values she had, but I am a rebel. I would like to go to Hooters sometime (boyfriend, do not read that as an acceptable V-Day dinner) just to get the experience. I'm also bisexual, which means I do like to appreciate girls with my boys. (For all those against homosexuality and such, I'm sorry. It's just who I am, and if you don't like it, you are more than welcome to stop reading. Please no nasty comments.) I went to Virgin Music Festival with my ex one year (we were exes at the time, but we're still on good terms.) and we spent half the day girl watching. Of course, I wouldn't do anything callous at Hooters. I understand that the girls working there are doing just that - working. I very easily could have ended up in a similar situation as them, I'm just lucky that my tech program fell into my lap. (That's a story for another post.) Still, eventually I would like to go there. Part of me would even like to visit Sauce's Hooters, just for fun. Not for stalking. I'm not creepy. I think...
Work was one of those days that you just get completely run off your feet and you just want to drop dead when you get home. I live really close, so I'm usually able to take a half hour to go home and each lunch, but not yesterday. My PM was working with me, and he's a really nice guy, although he kind of hates Saturdays too. it seemed like everyone who rented anything in the last couple weeks decided they needed to return it. It's a bit of a hassle, but we provide a service that many people greatly appreciate. 
One return in particular stands out to me. Not that it was a strange request or anything, but the cashier (who has worked at the store for at least 6 months, and knows how to do this) just had no flipping clue what was going on. And she was fucking training someone!! The way rentals work at my store are that you pay a deposit (because otherwise how do we know you'll bring it back?) then when you return it, we take the rental fee out of the deposit, and refund you the rest of the deposit. Fairly simple, right? I don't know what was up with Old Skinny Chick (new nickname) but she kept trying to charge him the deposit, then refund the charge. I had half a mind to walk behind the counter and do it for her because I've seen it so many damn times. Finally she gets it right, he leaves we move on. Until about 20 minutes later when she comes back and shows me the receipt, saying "We refunded a guy on a rental made in March??" Whoa whoa whoa. I KNOW it wasn't March, it was November. What had appeared on the receipt was the original date of rental and the cashier who was signed in: MAR 11/28/2010. What part of that looks like it was March? Yes MAR, but she's worked here long enough to know that our system prints numerical dates. Here she is, about to get me in trouble in front of my PM when I call her out on her utter stupidity. Normally I really like OSC, but I was MAD. I can do my job, she's the one not able to do hers. 
I also watched Mr and Mrs Smith last night. It was awesome. And I played Peter Frampton's "Do You Feel Like We Do?" on Guitar Hero and nearly cried I was so happy.

Friday, January 21, 2011

North by Northwest

Sorry it's been a few days - there's been a massive weather change in Calgary and it's been giving me awful migraines. I definitely have had some stories to tell and things to rant about, but I've forgotten a few, so I'll do my best.
I'm in a film studies class, and we spend one half of our class time watching movies. Some woman yesterday decided that instead of watching the movie she's paying 800$ for, she would instead pull out her phone and text/check Facebook for over two hours. My best friend was sitting next to me, between me and her, otherwise I would have flipped on her. Honestly, why are you paying for this class if you're not going to bother to pay attention during it?! Once we finished the movie, we had our lecture section where we analysed the movie in context of our new chapter. This same woman decided that instead of taking notes, she would fill out her application for a University of Calgary Mastercard. So, no big deal, she'll just waste her time, take up a spot for someone who might actually WANT to be in class...
Speaking of Film class, my prof really understand how to speak... She will be continuing on her sentence, rambling about *takes drink of water* fireplaces are warm. I don't understand her trains of thought...
Speaking of rants...
Justin Bieber. I don't like Biebs. At all. Whatsoever. I just watched a Proactiv commercial where he says, "There's a few things you can't change as a teenager. Your feet get bigger, can't change that, your hormones go crazy, I don't wanna stop that!" I think my ears burst into flame. I just have no words for how awful that sounded... Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.
In Film we watched Hitchcock's North by Northwest, which I fell completely in love with. So far I've really enjoyed the movies we've been watching, both of them. :P Run Lola Run or in the original German, Lola Rennt. It's a very interesting film if anyone likes foreign films. North by Northwest is really fantastic. Lots of great plot twists and just a whole lot of fantastic all around. I'm sure I'll eventually get bored of the movies, but right now I'm enjoying them.
I might find other topics to discuss later today. We shall see!

Monday, January 17, 2011

TV shows, Music and Marzipan.

Today I watched more primetime TV than I'm normally used to. I often work evenings at the pharmacy, but House and Lie To Me are both on after I get home. So tonight i watched House, the new one where he meets Cuddy's mother. Pretty hilarious, honestly. And the patient was interesting, I do find that sometimes the writers get really bored and don't have as complicated diseases. After House was Lie To Me. One of my favourite shows, honestly, I just don't always have the time to watch it. Again, one of the more fascinating episodes I've ever seen. I would love to be a behavourial whatever those guys are, except that I don't really like psychology. 
On to music! I was enjoying some good Canadian classics in The Tragically Hip this morning, starting with Gus: The Polar Bear From Central Park, which suddenly became the Daft Punk Tron: Legacy soundtrack. I was never aware of Daft Punk any more that the singles that came on the radio. I realized with TRON: Legacy that I really do enjoy electronica music. I wasn't sure - I've listened to my friends' Deadmau5, and I just don't like it... Maybe it's just the one artist. In any case, I'm going to give electronica and house music more oppourtunities - if anyone knows a good album/band/artist please let me know. 
I absolutely adore music, I just don't have the drive to study it, although I used to. (I took piano lessons for almost ten years and was in school bands for six.) I'm always keen to try listening to a new style or artist, but I'm also opinionated, so sometimes I just shut it down. Like Bruno Mars and Justin Bieber. I understand that many people really enjoy their music, and that it's a good style for the masses, I just prefer music that has real instruments and/or is a little different. THe canned stuff going on the radio all the time drives me crazy. Some of it I do enjoy, but much of it sounds the same. I honestly could not tell the difference between Bruno Mars and Justin Beiber for a couple singles. I'm a little bit of a snob that way. 
I found the last marzipan potatoe in the house today. I was so happy. If you don't know what marzipan is, it's essentially an almond paste that is sugared and shaped or covered in chocolate. I really really really love marzipan. I think it's fantastic. If you haven't experienced it,  suggest finding your local German food shop (in Calgary the best place to go is Edelweiss Deli) and looking in the candy section.
I really love all my classes at school, but sometimes I get so bored... for example, my Greek and Roman Studies class. The class is called "Classical Mythology and Literature." I know a lot of people would find that really boring, but it's a very interesting subject. My prof is just very very dull. I nearly fell asleep twice. It's always so sad when a fascinating subject is spoken about by a poor speaker...
My history class is currently discussing the Mongol Empire. I never thought I'd be as interested as I am! My concentration for my degree is European history, as much as I can from 1850 to 1950; imagine my surprise at being almost too interested to write notes today. The prof really does make a difference. If the prof likes what they're talking about, it makes a huge difference for the class.
In other school-related news, I'm officially going to be Stage Managing a show for the "taking flight" shows, which are directed entirely by students who are graduating either this year or next, i'm not sure which... Anyways, I'm really excited. I used to act, and even studied it for a little while, but I couldn't handle some of the work expected of me. I eventually tried my hand at stage management, and i really like it. I may get back into acting in the near future, but right now I"m happy calling the shots backstage. For those of you that don't know, the stage manager is basically second only to the director in regards to a specific show. They dictate when breaks are taken, how long they are, who needs to be where at what time, the deadlines that need to be met and basically organize everything. When the show goes up (begins) they "call" the show meaning they tell the technicians when to change to which lighting or sound cue at which point. It's a really really enjoyable job, more so than I thought it would be.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Cooking in the family.

So today my family participated in a cooking class that my older sister bought us for Christmas. It was titled "French Farmhouse Cooking" and was a lot of fun. We essentially had 30 people at two tables working on two recipes that the entire class ate at the end. When you put my family in a kitchen, we are awesome. Dad got the cooking genes from his mother and bar-be-queing from his father. (Oma & Opa) Mom also loves to cook, and bakes quite a bit. My little sister and I love to bake, and my older sister has learned to like cooking since she lives on her own. (My older brother would have joined us, but he's currently living in Berlin.)
We had a fantastic time cooking, and met some really nice people. Half our group made Coquiles Saint Jacques and Chicken Bouillbaisse. Our half of the group made Salmon wrapped in puff pastry (I forget it's real name) and Apple tart with Creme Anglaise. I took over on the tart because that's what I do. I bake. Our instructor told us that cooking is inexact and baking is exact. I heartily disagree. Baking is exactish. When I'm baking at the Park, I follow the measurements when I can. Only one of the houses has exact measuring cups, so in the Livingston house I have to guesstimate, which is actually really fun. So today I ended up accidentally grabbing the wrong-sized measuring cups and faked it from there. It actually came out really nicely all the same.
All the food was incredibly delicious. It's worth getting a cooking class with friends, or going as a couple as a fun day out. I guess they can get expensive, but I think they're worth the money.
In other news, I'm watching the Golden Globes and Jim Parsons just won for best actor in a comedy. The Big Bang Theory is my favourite show in the world and I'm so happy he won!!!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Superman, Super Awesome.

Although I am a self proclaimed geek, I am rather ashamed to admit that until tonight I have never watched Superman. Shocking, I know. I've watched the more recent geeky movies, all the Star Trek movies and all the Star Wars, albeit I block out memories of a few episodes of the latter.
In any case, my boyfriend decided tonight that he would show me the original Superman movies and my god, how have I gone through life never watching them?? When I used to watch movies with my family (Friday or Saturday ritual; the opposite night was family game night) I had to generally watch things we would all agree on. My mother and sister tend to like romantic movies, where my dad and I liked action. Sis, Dad and I like sports movies, where Mom likes... more alternative styles. Example, The Bicycle. Essentially, two Chinese men are fighting over ownership of a bicycle. One ends up killing a third man over it. That's all I remember, because the rest was so damn boring and confusing. Or, The Hanging Garden. It sounds like something interesting, maybe the main character is disabled, but finds solace in tending their hanging garden. Nope. Dude hangs himself in the garden. Pleasant.
Anyways, Superman. I have fallen completely in love with him. And with Clark Kent. But mostly Clark Kent. He's like an adorable little lost puppy, and he just makes me giggle. Superman is awesome too, because he Superman mo' fo. (can I save grace and say I was using that ironically? I'm going with that.) My boyfriend is a fan of Batman, but I think I'm a firm Superman lover. Sorry dear. That's just the way it is. 

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

No ma'am. Apples are not like bread AT ALL.

People, when you want something from the pharmacy, please try not to assume you can use any word and it will mean the same thing to me.
For example, I was filling a delivery order for a client who is very demanding and irritating. This particular day she didn't want any of her medications, just front store items. A few things from the list:
2 boxes of Cracker Jacks, but if we didn't have Cracker Jacks she wants only one bag of Poppycock. 
40 rubber gloves.
3 packs of 10 stamps. 
And a few other items that I've forgotten. They weren't important anyways.
This client goes through stamps like she freaking eats them. I swear, she calls almost every week asking for 3 packs of 10 stamps. Who the hell is she writing that she uses 30 stamps every 10 or so days?? And they're not cent stamps - these are the permanent ones that you can use within Canada that don't need a price on them. 
As far as the Cracker Jacks go, she's not immobilized. Go buy your own damn Cracker Jacks, you lazy woman.
And thus, we come to the gloves. Oh the gloves. Here's the thing; when someone tells me they want rubber gloves, I assume they want rubber gloves. As in, dishwashing gloves. I've made this mistake with this woman before, and when I called her she told me that we "open a box of 100 and give her 40 of them." The only problem with that is we don't have rubber gloves in the store, let alone in boxes of 100! This time around however, I decided to call my Pharmacy Manager, who knows all the regular clients like this woman. He informs me that she doesn't want rubber gloves - she wants VINYL. Cause yeah, vinyl is EXACTLY like rubber. WTF, honestly. So, I have to open a box of 100 gloves in order to count out 40 for her. I am never ever ever forgetting that key point.
Fucking vinyl.
Anyways. This woman also has a charge account at our store. For loyal customers, we offer accounts similar to credit cards so that they can get things delivered, or pay if they don't have ready money. Most charge accounts are from 50-100$. This particular client's account is 50$. Imagine my surprise the first time I charged to her account - it was charged with nearly 1000$!! I couldn't understand why she had been allowed to go so high. The answer to that is that my PM is a total pushover - or used to be. He decided a while ago that she wasn't allowed to charge anything until she paid off at least MOST of her bill. Which she did, surprisingly. Most of it, in any case. When I finally got to charging her stuff the other day it ended up totalling her account to about 300$. She'd come in the day before and paid off a little more (which makes me wonder as to why she didn't just do her shopping when she was there, but then I'm just a lowly tech would doesn't understand the great minds of my clients.) which she has been periodically doing since the ultimatum was given. I figure she'll pay it all off one day, then call in the next to charge 200$ worth of stuff.
The moral of the story is, if you know what you want, ask for it specifically. If i don't have the exact product, I will give you something similar. If I have no fucking clue what you are asking for, or if you're asking for something I KNOW we don't carry, I'm either going to ignore the request or send you the random thing that might possibly be what you were asking for.

Huckleberry Finn - Revised?

So, the NewSouth Books has decided that the use of the "n-word" (as I have no African American friends, I don't feel okay saying it) in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain is inappropriate in our modern society. It's used 219 times. Apparently some schools have refused to teach the book to make it easier for students who are uncomfortable with the n-word. 
Here's what I have to say on the subject (I'm going to assume you want my opinion since you're reading this.)
Fuck you NewSouth Books. Fuck. You.
This is ridiculous. As says, "We don't ban books anymore, we just change them." It's whitewashing of history. As a history major, it pisses me off that ANYONE would want to change history - no matter how slight they think it is. Yes, that word is inappropriate now, hence why I won't use it in full. But in Mark Twain's time, it was a totally accurate word. That was just how you described a black person! Even the later accepted term of "darkie" was considered "too nice." Basically, they were not people. They were THREE FIFTHS of people. (And that was only the men, but women's rights deserves its own rant.) 
The word being used to replace n**** is "slave". As The Daily Show's senior black correspondent Larry Wilmore pointed out, being called slave was a step up from *n-word* - the meaning of Twain's work is lost. He meant for it to be accurate to what he knew. Replacing descriptive words with a job isn't accurate... Imagine replacing a description of me (let's say "blonde") with my job... So instead of being my boyfriend's "hot blonde" I would be his "Hot... tech." Cause, yeah, that is exactly the same.
Does history suck sometimes? Absolutely. There is not a historian out there who would tell you that the world was all peaches and cream. There was not a time in history where one or another races was being oppressed somewhere in the world. It's usually multiple races in multiple places. 
Just because we don't like what happened, we shouldn't have the power to change stories. History is told by the winner's side, but when you change who won, you're lying more than usual. Today my HTST 200 (World History) prof taught us that history as an academic discipline as we know it really only came about in the 19th Century. Prior to that, historians essentially judged the history they looked at, deciding if it was right or wrong based on their definitions of right and wrong. As a practice, we don't do that anymore. There was a realization that everything has to be taken in context.
I realize that this is probably very circular and all my debate friends are dying on the inside, but I am very against changing Huckleberry Finn, and since you're reading my blog, I'm guessing that you care about what I have to say. =P

Tuesday, January 11, 2011


A few things you'll need to know about my writing style:
Sometimes I miss properly capatalizing my words. "I" is the most common. Other times, I get lazy and don't feel like writing with proper grammar. Actually, that's a lie. Proper grammar is important. It's capitalizing that I get lazy about.
The Park: This is how I will refer to Heritage Park. Alternatively, Heritage or HP. (In other contexts, HP will also refer to Harry Potter)
This may or may not get updated occasionally as I think of things that need to be remembered.
Like right now. My family has four cars for four drivers, and three of them have names, and will be referred to as such. The Pontiac Montana, a red minivan is called Bruce. My parents tried to change it to Monty but I named the damn thing, and that's not changing. The standard, green Ford Focus is Manwell, as it is a manual. The automatic, red Ford Focus, is Robert, Rob, or Bob. (Robert Redford, get it?) Finally, the Honda has no name. It's just "The Honda".
And for those who will understand, I am a bit of a font Nazi - I HATE Times New Roman. Heilvetica ftw.
I type Canadian style, meaning there are extra 'u's in my words, and centre is RE. Also, deke (pronounced deek) means dodge.

Nicknames for the people around me:
Pharmacy Manager, PM: Basically my boss at the pharmacy. Really nice guy who's very understanding about things.
Old Skinny Chick, OSC: This 30-40 something who works front store. She's nice, but freakishly skinny.
Boyfriend: From now on, he will be known as Charming, because that was a nickname I had for him, since he's my Prince Charming.
Bro: This is my best friend, and yes we are bros. (This is allowed by the Bro Code as set forth by Barney Stinson; Article 134 allows wingwomen and the FAQs at the front permit women to be bros.)


Well, hello. It seems you've stumbled onto a new section of the internet - my blog. I'm going by "Historically Crazy" as I am a history buff, and well, I'm a bit weird/crazy. It's likely that the first people to check this blog will be my friends, but for the total strangers out there, I'll attempt to change names, etc.
To start off, I'll explain why I am choosing to begin this blog. According to my boyfriend "lots of hot girls have blogs" and therefore I should have one too. How sweet. (For the record, we're that couple that makes single people want to puke we're so adorable. Sometimes I want to puke too.) In any case, I live in the middle of the Canadian prairies and the Canadian Rockies. Why is Rockies capitalized, you ask? I guess it's a noun? I dunno. As mentioned above, I'm a little crazy.
I'm currently studying for my Bachelor's in History with a concentration on Europe. I work two jobs in order to support my future career as an EI collector. I'm a pharmacy technician at a community pharmacy and an interpreter at Calgary's Heritage Park. The latter job description consists of me dressing up in costumes of the late 1800s-early 1900s and talking about buildings and life in Calgary in those times. That's seasonal though, so there will be more posts about the Park in spring/summer.
For the record, I am a natural blonde. No I'm not saying that when I'm actually brunette. No I don't dye at all. No I'm not an airhead. Although I do have "blonde moments" of forgetfulness, or sometimes I'll say something that makes me sound really dumb. I'm usually a very intelligent person... At least that's what my parents tell me.
Speaking of blonde moments, here's a good story from just the other day at the pharmacy. A woman had called in, asking to get her prescriptions refilled. Her last name isn't common, but most of her family gets their prescriptions at my pharmacy, so I knew the name, and even how to spell it. Let's say her first name was Kaitlyn. With a K. I, unknowingly, was searching for Caitlyn - with a C. Since I wasn't finding her file, I asked for her birthdate. This is common when we think we're misspelling a name, or we can't understand the client. She gives me her birth date and... nothing. Not a single person in the computer has that date of birth. (which is weird in and of itself) She lives close, so she says she'll come down and shop anyways, and I tell her I'll look around for her file. Finally, I decided to spell her last name in full, hoping I can find it. And voila - there is Kaitlyn, with a K. By this time, she had a arrived, and was really nice about the whole thing.
The stupid thing is, I noticed a note on her file from another tech saying that her PHN (Personal Health Number, the number everyone in Alberta has on their Health Card) has her birth date listed differently. This note is from May 2010. NO ONE of the 15 or so employees (techs and pharmacists alike) thought to actually ask her about this - we they have a bad habit of assuming. (I try not to assume, if a note hasn't been cleared, I tend to ask anyways.) Anyways, it turns out that the DOB we have listed is her pig's. WTF people. Why. Just... Why.
This will conclude the first post I think. If something comes to me later tonight, I might post another.