Not much to report here. The eye is slowly getting better. I have an appointment with Dr. Bright, now that's not a made up name, and he will hopefully tell me I can stop putting the damn drops in my eyes. I'm grateful for them, but its like anything that's good for you that you have to do - eventually you get tired of it.
It was a frustrating day at work today. A lot of different orders from different sources - in a way its mostly no one's fault because of the rather odd situation we find ourselves in at work this year. But at the same time its frustrating to have to deal with the uncertainty of a rule that can change 3-4 times in one day. But I endure.
There you go - no deep topics, no witty (or attempts to be witty) monologue.
Observation on Life: if you don't sleep, you get tired.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
CSI: BFE
I’ve been awake since 3 this morning so forgive me if my thoughts are not exactly lucid.
While watching the news this morning there was an interesting story that left me in a perplexed state (more so than usual). After being dropped off in a remote location a couple of lumberjacks were attacked by a grizzly bear; one of them (presumably the slower one, in the vein of the comedian joke where two or more people are in the woods being chased by a bear “I don’t have to outrun the grizzly, I just have to out run you”) was mauled (he’ll be fine, hence the jest). That, in and of itself, is not exactly perplexing.
What’s left me perplexed is the comment from some guy (who’s name/title/reason for being quoted remain unclear to me) who said they’re going to go out in the woods and try and track down this bear. The bear, because it had the temerity to attack a human, will be killed.
The perplexity of the situation strikes me here – how’re they going to know they have the right bear? My wife, the answer to all my rhetorical questions, points out that as bears are territorial there’s a chance that if they find the spot where the attack happened it was probably in the territory of the next bear they find. Me, I says that’s circumstantial evidence.
I’m not a tree hugger, I wouldn’t even hug a tree hugger, but I have a keen sense of justice. I’d like to be sure this is the bear that attacked the man. Due process must be followed. We need to take this bear’s paw prints and run it through the system to see if this bear has committed any previous offences, take a swab (good luck with that one) and run that through UDIS (Ursine DNA Index System), match the bear claw to the claw marks on the victim – all the things they do on CSI. We need to make sure we have the right bear.
If this bear had robbed a 7-Eleven (for the bear essentials… sorry couldn’t resist) or had held up a liquor store, I would be the first guy to grab a pitch fork or a flaming torch to go after this monster. As it stands however, these lumberjacks were in the forest, in the bear’s territory, so maybe the bear thought someone was trying to pull a B&E on his winter stash.
I feel bad for the guy but he’s still alive and will recover.
I feel worse for the bear who will be hunted down and killed because we, as a species, encroached on his territory.
Observations on Life: It’s a bad time to be a bear.
While watching the news this morning there was an interesting story that left me in a perplexed state (more so than usual). After being dropped off in a remote location a couple of lumberjacks were attacked by a grizzly bear; one of them (presumably the slower one, in the vein of the comedian joke where two or more people are in the woods being chased by a bear “I don’t have to outrun the grizzly, I just have to out run you”) was mauled (he’ll be fine, hence the jest). That, in and of itself, is not exactly perplexing.
What’s left me perplexed is the comment from some guy (who’s name/title/reason for being quoted remain unclear to me) who said they’re going to go out in the woods and try and track down this bear. The bear, because it had the temerity to attack a human, will be killed.
The perplexity of the situation strikes me here – how’re they going to know they have the right bear? My wife, the answer to all my rhetorical questions, points out that as bears are territorial there’s a chance that if they find the spot where the attack happened it was probably in the territory of the next bear they find. Me, I says that’s circumstantial evidence.
I’m not a tree hugger, I wouldn’t even hug a tree hugger, but I have a keen sense of justice. I’d like to be sure this is the bear that attacked the man. Due process must be followed. We need to take this bear’s paw prints and run it through the system to see if this bear has committed any previous offences, take a swab (good luck with that one) and run that through UDIS (Ursine DNA Index System), match the bear claw to the claw marks on the victim – all the things they do on CSI. We need to make sure we have the right bear.
If this bear had robbed a 7-Eleven (for the bear essentials… sorry couldn’t resist) or had held up a liquor store, I would be the first guy to grab a pitch fork or a flaming torch to go after this monster. As it stands however, these lumberjacks were in the forest, in the bear’s territory, so maybe the bear thought someone was trying to pull a B&E on his winter stash.
I feel bad for the guy but he’s still alive and will recover.
I feel worse for the bear who will be hunted down and killed because we, as a species, encroached on his territory.
Observations on Life: It’s a bad time to be a bear.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Eye Eye Eye! (Ahoy oi there!)
If I’m well enough to work, I’m well enough to blog, though whether or not I’m well enough to work is a debatable point. Nevertheless, here I be.
It’s been pretty close to a month since my last post saying I couldn’t really read enough to blog, and that’s sort of mind bloggling (it’s blog related ergo bloggling). When you’re sitting in the dark in the house watching American Justice and too much Cold Case Files time flows together and I’m only now coming back into a world where I have to keep track of such a mundane thing as: the date.
For those of you that don’t know, I had a flare up of my Iritis, which is an inflammation or swelling of the iris of the eye (though I still think it sounds like the Latin verb ‘to write” (conjugate: I writus (I write), I wrotus (I wrote). It’s painful. The pain is tolerable. The vision is the problem.
At first it goes blurry and reacts badly to sunlight. Then you start treating it with a steroid drop and it goes blurrier and you start to see spots. Then when the steroids don’t work from drops, you get the joy of having a needle in the eye (more on that in a sec) and there are more spots, and then when you’re “better” you still have a lot of spots and now some mini “blind” spots (ha! Accidentally wrote mini bling spots… little dollar sign floaters)
The Needle: Initially when the iritis flared up I thought I was going to have to get a needle right away, and I was ready for it. But after the first appointment turned out to be needle free I thought I might get off the hook. 2nd appointment however proved me wrong. The needle in the eye is uncomfortable (they freeze it first so its not, you know, like tortuous) but even worse than that in my opinion is the 2 minute window between the time when Herr Doc says: “I need to schteek a needle inkz your eye” to the point where he comes back with it. That’s one of those situations where the mind runs at a frantic pace in all directions at once.
Blog may not make much sense, but it first one after long time. Gimme break.
Observations on Life: Anything you need to know about life you can learn from The Wiggles. In one episode alone I learned about levering AND that’s its possible to come wash your face in a frying pan and comb your hair with a wagon wheel.
It’s been pretty close to a month since my last post saying I couldn’t really read enough to blog, and that’s sort of mind bloggling (it’s blog related ergo bloggling). When you’re sitting in the dark in the house watching American Justice and too much Cold Case Files time flows together and I’m only now coming back into a world where I have to keep track of such a mundane thing as: the date.
For those of you that don’t know, I had a flare up of my Iritis, which is an inflammation or swelling of the iris of the eye (though I still think it sounds like the Latin verb ‘to write” (conjugate: I writus (I write), I wrotus (I wrote). It’s painful. The pain is tolerable. The vision is the problem.
At first it goes blurry and reacts badly to sunlight. Then you start treating it with a steroid drop and it goes blurrier and you start to see spots. Then when the steroids don’t work from drops, you get the joy of having a needle in the eye (more on that in a sec) and there are more spots, and then when you’re “better” you still have a lot of spots and now some mini “blind” spots (ha! Accidentally wrote mini bling spots… little dollar sign floaters)
The Needle: Initially when the iritis flared up I thought I was going to have to get a needle right away, and I was ready for it. But after the first appointment turned out to be needle free I thought I might get off the hook. 2nd appointment however proved me wrong. The needle in the eye is uncomfortable (they freeze it first so its not, you know, like tortuous) but even worse than that in my opinion is the 2 minute window between the time when Herr Doc says: “I need to schteek a needle inkz your eye” to the point where he comes back with it. That’s one of those situations where the mind runs at a frantic pace in all directions at once.
Blog may not make much sense, but it first one after long time. Gimme break.
Observations on Life: Anything you need to know about life you can learn from The Wiggles. In one episode alone I learned about levering AND that’s its possible to come wash your face in a frying pan and comb your hair with a wagon wheel.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Stuff… and Other Stuff
Well as I continue to look at the world through a fog (physical as opposed to the usual mental fog) here’s some things for you to see:
Turducken: My good friend John aka Rabdo and his fabulous wife Amy have promised to do their yearly Turducken on a weekend when I’ll actually be able to attend. Last year I couldn’t make it due to the fact that I accidentally said yes to going to Carole’s work’s Christmas Party, and so composed the following: Damn You Castrucci. The year before I composed the Turduckenomicon: The Book of the Dead Bird. Let me know if you’d like to read it. This year I will compose a song entitled The Redemption of John Castrucci. Next year, perhaps a musical.
Who Wants A Time Out? So my first real attempt at disciplining of my son sort of backfired. He’d been being a major pill – looking mommy in the eye while throwing his food across the floor – so I stuck him in a corner still strapped into his booster seat. I could tell he quite wasn’t getting the point when he was laughing and saying “Daddy!” But then: Crash! Turns out the boy has got the natural instincts of a spy: he rocked the chair back and forth until it fell over. This scared him and he cried – so he wasn’t like super cool spy – but we ran over and took him out of the chair so he got out anyway. Next time I put him face in I’m strapping him in with duct tape.
Tell Me Your Dreams: I’ve got a talent for dream interpretation. Tell me your dream and I will artfully employ my Bill-shit to translate what your subconscious is trying to tell me...er I mean you. Keep the kinky ones to yourself please. If you don’t like the answer, well you shouldn’t have said anything in the first place! Carole: the dream means you’re afraid of Duncan growing up and not being your little boy anymore. Rhonda I have no idea why you were doing that with a polar bear… I didn’t even think it was possible.
Observations on Life:
“And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
-- Hamlet Act 1, Scene 5
Turducken: My good friend John aka Rabdo and his fabulous wife Amy have promised to do their yearly Turducken on a weekend when I’ll actually be able to attend. Last year I couldn’t make it due to the fact that I accidentally said yes to going to Carole’s work’s Christmas Party, and so composed the following: Damn You Castrucci. The year before I composed the Turduckenomicon: The Book of the Dead Bird. Let me know if you’d like to read it. This year I will compose a song entitled The Redemption of John Castrucci. Next year, perhaps a musical.
Who Wants A Time Out? So my first real attempt at disciplining of my son sort of backfired. He’d been being a major pill – looking mommy in the eye while throwing his food across the floor – so I stuck him in a corner still strapped into his booster seat. I could tell he quite wasn’t getting the point when he was laughing and saying “Daddy!” But then: Crash! Turns out the boy has got the natural instincts of a spy: he rocked the chair back and forth until it fell over. This scared him and he cried – so he wasn’t like super cool spy – but we ran over and took him out of the chair so he got out anyway. Next time I put him face in I’m strapping him in with duct tape.
Tell Me Your Dreams: I’ve got a talent for dream interpretation. Tell me your dream and I will artfully employ my Bill-shit to translate what your subconscious is trying to tell me...er I mean you. Keep the kinky ones to yourself please. If you don’t like the answer, well you shouldn’t have said anything in the first place! Carole: the dream means you’re afraid of Duncan growing up and not being your little boy anymore. Rhonda I have no idea why you were doing that with a polar bear… I didn’t even think it was possible.
Observations on Life:
“And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
-- Hamlet Act 1, Scene 5
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
When the Majority Wants a Minority
The election has passed and much like the week to week clothing of your average high school boy – nothing has changed.
I listened to a lot of my friends yesterday talk about how they were voting, or had voted in the past, for the party they felt would lose but be the best opposition. Now there’s nothing wrong with opposition in the political house, theoretically out of debate will come compromise and golden ideas, but correct me if I’m wrong, isn’t the whole point of democracy to vote for the candidate you feel would be best?
Granted that can be a hard choice when you’re picking between slimeball and slimeball.
To me this election is one more indication that the political system in Canada just doesn’t work. I like living in Canada for the most part. All you need to do is wake up on a frosty morning and watch the sun come over the mountains and you’ll know why. But when it comes to politics and the way this country is run, it almost makes me want to go get involved and fix it myself (and the thought of me in politics is scarier for me than you).
I’m tired of living in a country of political dithering. We have essentially four parties full of people who are now getting paid to not make decision that affect our lives every day. Again. Didn’t we just have that? Didn’t it just not work?
Why, as Canadians, do the majority of us feel we have to have a minority government? Do we feel that the term minority means it’s politically correct to vote it in? The hippies and tree huggers our there are all paranoid in their tinfoil hats that Stephen Harper is going to start introducing capital punishment for gay people – here’s a news flash: the goal of any political party, and any politician, is to get itself/himself/herself re-elected: Harper maybe a beady eyed freakazoid but he’s not about to cut off his meal ticket nor that of his party.
Yes majority governments in the past have screwed up. And yes they will screw up again in the future.
Out of this whole process one thing I have seen. Democracy is government by the people; the people were indecisive – and so for the next 3 or 4 years so too will its government. Our new motto: Canada – we think we’re indecisive, but we’re not too sure.
But I guess this complaint is coming a day too late.
But I did vote.
So I do get to complain.
Observastions of Life: In this new section I will try to post little tidbits of things I've observed. Today's observation: Men - If there's a wet patch just in front of a urinal in the men's washroom, assume it's not water. Ladies - if you notice a wet patch just in front of the urinal you're in the wrong washroom.
I listened to a lot of my friends yesterday talk about how they were voting, or had voted in the past, for the party they felt would lose but be the best opposition. Now there’s nothing wrong with opposition in the political house, theoretically out of debate will come compromise and golden ideas, but correct me if I’m wrong, isn’t the whole point of democracy to vote for the candidate you feel would be best?
Granted that can be a hard choice when you’re picking between slimeball and slimeball.
To me this election is one more indication that the political system in Canada just doesn’t work. I like living in Canada for the most part. All you need to do is wake up on a frosty morning and watch the sun come over the mountains and you’ll know why. But when it comes to politics and the way this country is run, it almost makes me want to go get involved and fix it myself (and the thought of me in politics is scarier for me than you).
I’m tired of living in a country of political dithering. We have essentially four parties full of people who are now getting paid to not make decision that affect our lives every day. Again. Didn’t we just have that? Didn’t it just not work?
Why, as Canadians, do the majority of us feel we have to have a minority government? Do we feel that the term minority means it’s politically correct to vote it in? The hippies and tree huggers our there are all paranoid in their tinfoil hats that Stephen Harper is going to start introducing capital punishment for gay people – here’s a news flash: the goal of any political party, and any politician, is to get itself/himself/herself re-elected: Harper maybe a beady eyed freakazoid but he’s not about to cut off his meal ticket nor that of his party.
Yes majority governments in the past have screwed up. And yes they will screw up again in the future.
Out of this whole process one thing I have seen. Democracy is government by the people; the people were indecisive – and so for the next 3 or 4 years so too will its government. Our new motto: Canada – we think we’re indecisive, but we’re not too sure.
But I guess this complaint is coming a day too late.
But I did vote.
So I do get to complain.
Observastions of Life: In this new section I will try to post little tidbits of things I've observed. Today's observation: Men - If there's a wet patch just in front of a urinal in the men's washroom, assume it's not water. Ladies - if you notice a wet patch just in front of the urinal you're in the wrong washroom.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Eyeballs & Lego
So the Thanksgiving weekend is over and I’m fairly sure I weigh more than I did before it began (that’s a scary thought for those of you who know me I’m sure). I spent a little too much time being in a foul mood this weekend rather than being thankful though.
Saturday morning I woke up and the world wasn’t as clear as it used to be. Now I’m not talking about some philosophical quandary I was finding myself in; not some existentialist angst that was keeping me from seeing the world as it truly is. Nay! What I’m talking about is Iritis.
No, it’s not a Roman playwright.
Iritis is an eye condition wherein the iris of the eye (hence the Iritis) becomes inflame. The side effects are redness of the eye, a change in the color of the eye (sometimes), an aversion to sunlight, the need to drink blood… okay that’s actually vampirism… and in this case crappily reduced vision.
To put it bluntly I have my very own fog bank inside my right eye. So today I call the eye doctor and in the next day or so I get to go back and cross my heart hope to die he’ll stick a needle in my eye.
But as they say when one sense falters another picks up the slack.
My sense of Lego (that’s the 11th sense… the senses run like this: sense of sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, ESP, humour, fashion, fair play, self and Lego) apparently has grown exponentially, having discovered this weekend that I have the ability to construct some fairly cool Lego constructs where last weekend had troubles fitting two blocks together.
On Saturday Duncan and I were having fun with the Lego – just two boys playing on the floor with blocks. I was able to build a fairly involved raised train system for his Thomas the Tank set… essentially turning Thomas into a skytrain (and he instantly turned grumpy and had technical defects).
The boy was impressed enough to have me come back in as a special guest block builder again on Sunday and Monday (on which I actually constructed my first Lego house complete with roof.
Throw some turkey in there and that was my weekend.
Saturday morning I woke up and the world wasn’t as clear as it used to be. Now I’m not talking about some philosophical quandary I was finding myself in; not some existentialist angst that was keeping me from seeing the world as it truly is. Nay! What I’m talking about is Iritis.
No, it’s not a Roman playwright.
Iritis is an eye condition wherein the iris of the eye (hence the Iritis) becomes inflame. The side effects are redness of the eye, a change in the color of the eye (sometimes), an aversion to sunlight, the need to drink blood… okay that’s actually vampirism… and in this case crappily reduced vision.
To put it bluntly I have my very own fog bank inside my right eye. So today I call the eye doctor and in the next day or so I get to go back and cross my heart hope to die he’ll stick a needle in my eye.
But as they say when one sense falters another picks up the slack.
My sense of Lego (that’s the 11th sense… the senses run like this: sense of sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, ESP, humour, fashion, fair play, self and Lego) apparently has grown exponentially, having discovered this weekend that I have the ability to construct some fairly cool Lego constructs where last weekend had troubles fitting two blocks together.
On Saturday Duncan and I were having fun with the Lego – just two boys playing on the floor with blocks. I was able to build a fairly involved raised train system for his Thomas the Tank set… essentially turning Thomas into a skytrain (and he instantly turned grumpy and had technical defects).
The boy was impressed enough to have me come back in as a special guest block builder again on Sunday and Monday (on which I actually constructed my first Lego house complete with roof.
Throw some turkey in there and that was my weekend.
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