people suck


Apparently I left my wallet in the cab I took home last night (no, I wasn’t drunk, just tired and it was after 7 so the buses weren’t running directly to my house any more)

I didn’t notice because once I got home I didn’t actually need my wallet

Got multiple calls from 604.681.1111 between 2:45 and 3:15 this morning – no voicemail left

Called the number when I actually got up and it was Yellow Cab, but they had no idea why someone from there had called me

Realised my wallet was missing when I went to pay for the bus this morning

The penny dropped

Called Yellow Cab and yes, they had found my wallet – no explanation for the multiple 3 a.m. calls, though

Sent them a notarised letter authorising them to release my wallet to a courier I was sending over

Waiting for it now

What are the chances that the 5 $20 bills that I put in there just before getting into the cab last night are still there?? will let you know

*EDIT* MONEY ALL THERE!!  HELL MUST HAVE FROZEN OVER, MY FAITH IN MANKIND RESTORED (FOR THE MOMENT)

In other news, the house that I live in, and have lived in for 7 years, is on the market, which sucks for many reasons.  Not least of which is OPEN HOUSES!!! 2 this past weekend,  another the weekend before and one this coming weekend.  This sucks because I have to be out of the house for 3 hours each of those days WITH THE DOGS.  Which would be fine if I had a car and could just go somewhere, but I don’t so it’s not exactly convenient.  But I do it and it’s not the end of the world and I am fond of my landlords so will accommodate them.

HOWEVER

Last week the agent showed the house on a Wednesday, a day that my dogs are not walked so are at home.  The agent was told NOT to show my suite, which is at the back of the house.  But of course he showed it and of course he then left the doors to my bedroom and bathroom OPEN thus allowing Scout full access.  Goodbye to a purse and thank GOD she didn’t get to the EXTRA-STRENGTH GRAVOL that was in the purse because then?  SHE WOULD BE DEAD!

Which brings us to yesterday – my landlords told me that the house was being shown but not the suite.  I told them that the dogs would be out of the suite in the afternoon on a walk so if they wanted to show it that would be fine.  The did not tell that to the agent and assumed that it would NOT be shown,  Um, no.  It was shown and the doors left open AGAIN – bye bye to another pair of shoes!

Scout is an anxious chewer which is why I keep all doors closed when I am not home – temptation is out of the way.  If I happen to leave something out, that’s my fault.  This is not my fault.

Am I wrong to expect to have the purse and shoes replaced?

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I spent most of this weekend sad.  On my way home from work Friday evening the fact that my mother was gone and not coming back really hit me.  And so I cried.  And I cried, and I cried and then I cried some more.  I don’t know why THIS weekend was special, maybe because the weather had turned and it was WET and gross out?  who knows.  All I do know is that I was very, very sad all weekend and I cried a lot.

Over the last year I have lost touch with a few people;  some intentionally, some not.  One person in particular, a friend of over 20 years, was particularly callous in her dealings with me – when mum was officially diagnosed and her surgery scheduled I was slated to host a baby shower for a dear friend.  When I got the news about mum my first instinct was of course to drop everything and fly across the country to be with her.  I called my (very) pregnant girlfriend, explained the situation and asked her if she wanted the shower to go ahead without me, which it totally could, or if she wanted to wait for me to get back, potentially post-baby, and then do it.  She left it to me, totally understanding that what I had to do was a wee bit more important than making party sandwiches for a bunch of women.  So I called our other friend, at whose aunt’s house the shower was being held (neither of us have a house large enough and her aunt had graciously offered the use of her garden).  She too left it to me and I told them that I would let them know my decision after I spoke with my parents.

In the interim I was copied on an email by the third friend involved, my friend of over 20 years, in which she basically said well since Kathryn is bailing on her responsibilities I guess we had better take over and make sure this shower happens.

Um, excuse me?  I was not “bailing”.  Also?  She never called me to see if a. my mum was ok and b. if I was ok.  She just took it upon herself to cast me in a bad light and basically be a bitch.

I wound up NOT going home that weekend and went ahead with the planning and hosting of the shower, which included doing (and paying for) all of the shopping, cooking and preparing the house and garden for 30 women.  And I did it gladly because the mum to be is a dear friend.

(and not that we do these things for the kudos, but to add insult to injury, the other 2 girls involved got all the thank you’s from the guests – not me)

Still not one word of concern from my so-called-friend.

She finally got around to calling me about a week later, asking how my mum was doing.  When I told her the diagnosis, which at that stage was that she had bladder cancer and her bladder had to be removed, her response was “well at least it’s not as bad as what my sister has”.  I feel the need to fully explain this statement – her “sister” is a 50 something year old woman who was the put up for adoption at birth daughter of her step-father and his first wife.  She met her “sister” 3 years ago. And regardless, who cares whose is worse? My mother was diagnosed with serious cancer, was having an organ removed and I was scared.

Stunned by her response, I cut the conversation short.

A week or two later we were supposed to meet for cocktails after work – I was flying out to Montreal in a few days to be with my family during mum’s surgery and for Thanksgiving.  When I called to confirm time, location, ect (on my way to meet her) she was laughing and joking with some people and said that she was with people from work and that I should join them.  Um, no. I was in no mood to be with people I didn’t know.  So I told her that, That I was not up to being in a group with people I didn’t know and that my preference was to go just the two of us for a quiet drink and chat.  She told me that I really had to stop being so self-centred.

So I went home, seething.  I called her at home later but she wasn’t there so I left a message.  I probably should not have but I was hurt and angry.  I told her that I felt she was being very unsupportive and that her whole attitude towards me and what I was going through with my mum was very hurtful.

I should probably also explain here that she and my mum were close, that my mum had taken care of my friend on many occasions when her own family would or could not.

Anyway, my trip to Montreal came and went.  It was stressful and emotional and just the beginning it turned out of a terrible roller-coaster that we would all ride for the next 10 months.

My friend called me once after I got back but I really didn’t have the energy to call her back.

In February we got the news that the cancer was back and that mum would have to go through chemo.  As we know now that was the beginning of the end and I was back and forth between Montreal and Vancouver quite a bit over the next few months, trying to keep things at work and at home afloat and trying to remain positive for all those around me.

We have a few mutual friends so my friend new what was going on.  She called once, leaving a message.  I returned the call, giving her an update. That was the last time we had any form of contact.  As a result of this “rift” I have lost contact with not a small circle of people I used to be quite social with.  Not such a great loss as I see it now. But it still bugs me.

Never has she sent any kind of sign or acknowledgement that my mum died. Not a note, not an email, not a text message, NOTHING.  Not a word.  Quite telling about her character, I think.

All of that back-story melodrama to say this:  on Saturday afternoon I managed to get the energy together and dragged myself in the pouring rain down to Park Royal  to run some errands.  And who walked out of the Home Depot right in front of me but her. She was with one of another of my once-friends.  I felt physically sick to my stomach and darted into the next store. They were in front of me, it was pouring rain and I was wearing a hood so they did not see me, but still.  The last thing I was up for was an awkward encounter and I truly did not have the energy to smile and pretend to be glad to see them.

Fuck them.

That near-encounter brought up so many unresolved feelings and emotions and down-right anger that I have been keeping under wraps all this time.

Fuck them.

I have lost so much this year, it’s just not fair.

And?

Fuck them and the brooms they rode in on.

A few weeks ago I was invited to an evening cocktail party at a friend’s house – promised to be a fun evening.  Of course I offered to bring something and was told that an appetizer would be great.

Last week the hostess sent an email around to all of us who had offered to bring an appetizer so that she could get an idea of what was coming.  My original intention was to being edamame humus with pita chips but by the time the email got to me there were at least 5 other dip-type items on it so I decided to do something different – Chex Party Mix.  So that’s what I wrote.

I mean everyone likes that, right?  And it goes well with cocktails and there would be MEN there and from what I understand men aren’t generally all that excited about dips.  Anyway, I didn’t give it another thought.

Until Saturday afternoon.

I called a girlfriend of mine (actually the friend through whom I know the hostess) who was also going to coordinate rides, etc.  We were chatting about this and that and then she asked me – were you serious about the Chex Party Mix?  Of course, I answered, why?

Apparently some of the women WHO I DON”T EVEN KNOW! saw it listed on the email and got their knickers in a serious knot.  WHO is this person? they demanded.  What kind of person brings a bag of bits & bites to an adult cocktail party??!!  seriously, apparently there was an entire day of emails like that – totally trash-talking this insolent gatecrasher and her audacity in thinking that this was acceptable party fare.

OH. MY. GOD!!!!  These women are all in their mid to late 40’s and early 50’s. Professionals for the most part.  But way bitchy and petty apparently.

I assured my friend that I was in no way bringing a vacu-sealed bag of bits and bites to the party – I was in fact in the middle of making home-made Chex Party Mix – with pecans and almonds and three types of organic cereals and Chinese noodles.  This was not your 1970’s housewife party mix.

and don’t think I wasn’t tempted to go to the corner store and buy a bag and bring it with a 6-pack of no-name pop.

But I didn’t.  Because I am better than that.

The party was fun.  My Chex Mix a huge hit – it was the ONLY dish from the table that made its way to the kitchen and was surrounded by all the men.

And I found out who started the mean emails and it was none other than that bitch who last year stuck me with $150 of a group bill AFTER going on and on and on about how much money she and her husband make.  And of course she pretended not to have ever met me before.

Karma’s a bitch, babe, that’s what I have to say to you.

I was walking the girls yesterday afternoon at the park across the way and they both wandered on over to a picnic table to “clean up” after some messy eaters – there was rice or something all over it
 
whatever, I thought, it’s just food
 
but when I got over to the table myself to collect the mutts I saw that in addition to the food there was a pack of wooden matches, a vial of herb and a funny-looking leather case, kinda like a pencil case but slimmer
 
yeah, it was some dude’s weed and other assorted drug paraphernalia
 
two kids came out of the restroom within a minute or so and were all like “that’s our stuff, get your dogs away from it”
 
dude, it’s 3:30 on a Sunday afternoon and you left your drug crap out in the open

what is wrong with people??? last week it was bored suburban white kids hucking empty beer kegs over the dam and this week it’s kids of the same ilk leaving their dope out in the open and giving my dogs a hard time for taking a sniff

last I checked I didn’t live in Surrey …

We woke up yesterday morning, New Year’s Day, with no hangover (a result of being in bed at 10 the night before after a scrumptious dinner of tea and toast with honey) and six inches of fresh snow on the ground so the mutts and I headed out for our first walk of 2009.  And what a walk it was!  Running and jumping and snowball chasing and porpoising through the snow (the dogs, NOT me) and lots of new year greetings to those other souls up and about and reveling in the beauty of our collective backyard.  And then Griff (the white lab spending the next couple of weeks with us – a “paying customer”) decided to go on a little walkabout of his own.

 

Now he is known to do this on occasion but never has with me.  Great, I thought, what a perfect way to start the new year – loose a bloody dog. Anyway, I brought the other two home and went off in search of Griff. 

 

There were kids tobogganing in the park across from where we were walking so that was the logical place to start (and let’s not even talk about the fact that he would have had to cross a MAJOR street to get to it …).  I asked the first person I saw if he had seen a white Labrador running around.  “A white dog in this snow?  Not likely”

 

No need for sarcasm, asshole

 

Then his kid piped up “Dad, we just saw that dog running up the road”

 

Thanks kid and off I went.

 

Got to the (STEEP) road and saw Griff about half-way up – the dog-finding angels were obviously on my side.  I saw him head in to a driveway where two men were shoveling snow.

 

“GRIFF!!!!  GRIFF!!!  GGGGGRRRRRIIIIIFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  I yelled to absolutely no avail.  So I tried yelling to the men to please grab him.

 

Nothing.  No response, no reaction, no acknowledgement to even having heard me.

 

I got up to almost their driveway to see Griff walking up the hill even further (FUCK!)

 

“did you see a white dog in your driveway?”  I asked

 

“um, nope”

 

(BULLSHIT!!)

 

“did you hear me yelling?”

 

“um, nope”

 

I kept walking and got him at the next driveway.

 

On the way back down the two apparently deaf gentlemen commented “oh, you found him” and “we didn’t hear you yelling for us to grab him – we were talking to each other”

 

I’m sorry and please forgive me but I just couldn’t help myself  “if you didn’t hear me, how did you know that I asked you to grab him?”

 

Funny, they didn’t have an answer for that

 

And again, I’m sorry but I REALLY couldn’t help myself and I continued “you see a woman running up the street yelling her head off and you do NOTHING?? You don’t even pause to see if there might be something going on?? You two are the perfect example of everything that is wrong with society – you just don’t give a shit about anyone but yourselves and refuse to get involved.  Happy New Year”

 

And home we went.

 

I was seething mad, and not at Griff for running away.  He’s a dog and that happens.  He was safe and happy and that’s what matters.  What I was (and still am) so angry about was the complete and utter lack of compassion, empathy and concern these people in my neighbourhood had for anyone.  And it became abundantly clear exactly how a woman can be raped in broad daylight in front of a crowd of people and no one would do anything to help or stop it.

 

Happy New Year