February 24, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): Nothing new happens today, even if you're pining for some action -- so relish what you've got! It's a good time to stick with what you know and double down on projects that have already paid off.
Laura’s Log:
Day Three at Deer Lake Auto Shop and The Cold War continues. I arrived at work to find a legal pad on my desk with two pages of notes on things I needed to do. Old-fashioned email. Unfortunately, I can’t read most of the handwriting. When I asked Sergi if they were his notes, he turned and walked with urgency to straighten the thingamajigs on the window aisle. Rita, Andrei and Karl responded similarly. The displays will be immaculate by the time I’m done here.
I called Lucy during my coffee break—obviously, chitchatting with my colleagues was out of the question—and she’s apparently still miffed that I’m not praising and rallying behind her protest efforts. She hung up after I said, “Hi Lu—.” Naturally, I assumed we’d been cut off so I immediately called back. She managed to cram five expletives in a single sentence, serving as the noun, the verb and a superfluous string of adjectives. Then, the dial tone. Definitely a problem with the connection—familial, as opposed to technological. Seems like I’ll have to wait this one out. Lucy tends to devote her rage toward one family member at a time. I’m betting Mom or Marella will draw her ire before week’s end. In the meantime, we’re in a holding pattern. Then we can go back to dancing around our contrasting existences.
Dinner tonight at Hon’s with Tamara. She’s still seething over Andy’s comment at brunch on the weekend when he butted into our group commiserating session and asserted she should follow Bradley to Edmonton. He actually used the phrase “stand by your man” and there wasn’t a trace of jest in his voice. Even Nadia winced before shifting the conversation to those cute Canada toques on sale at The Bay, proving yet again the value of an adaptable fashion accessory.
Sergi, Lucy, Tamara,…seems I’m immersed in a world where the best I can do is negotiate temporary cease-fires. How do I phrase that on my résumé?
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
I DON’T SEEM TO HAVE CURED MY OBSESSIVENESS. I’VE MERELY TRANSFERRED IT FROM CLARA TO THE WOMEN WHO IGNORE ME ON THE PLENTY OF FISH DATING WEBSITE. WTF?! IT IS GOOD TO REALIZE I HAVEN’T HAD A THOUGHT ABOUT CLARA IN ALMOST A WEEK THOUGH. OLYMPIC FEVER IN VANCOUVER HAS HELPED. BUT NOW I FIND MYSELF CHECKING THE POF SITE MULTIPLE TIMES EACH DAY TO SEE IF KITSKAYAKER, WESTENDRUNNER OR MKWLADY—WHATEVER “MKW” STANDS FOR—HAS REPLIED TO MY WARM, WITTY OPENING MESSAGE. NYET. I SUPPOSE THERE’S A FINE LINE B/W WARM/WITTY & DOWNRIGHT ICKY. I SEEM TO CROSS IT TOO OFTEN. WHERE CAN I FIND A DATING COACH?
FOR NOW, I’M JUST GOING TO TUNE OUT MY UNLUCKY IN LOVE NICHE & TUNE IN TO CANADA-RUSSIA HOCKEY.
Showing posts with label Cold War. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cold War. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
AN ICY RECEPTION
February 23, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You need to discuss recent changes with colleagues or family members, so start early and make sure everyone is willing to face up to what needs to be said. You can get almost anything done if you're firm.
Laura’s Log:
As a temp, I don’t expect to be welcomed to the fold with a box of chocolates and an invitation to join the gang at their favorite lunch haunt. I don’t even expect people to get my name right. Laurie, Lisa, Rapunzel,…close enough. But what happened to “hello”, “please”, “thank you” and “Canada rocks”?
The auto shop is owned by two Russian brothers and at least half the staff is Russian as well. They’d been cordial enough on my first day of work, but things iced over overnight.
I’d thoroughly enjoyed Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir’s graceful, captivating, golden ice dance last night and didn’t think twice about putting on my Canadian Olympic pin this morning. Sergi, one of the brothers, spotted it as he poured his first of forty cups of coffee. He stared, looking aghast. Since I’d completely forgotten the pin, I thought, first, he was ogling by breasts and, second, they had suddenly gone frighteningly asymmetrical. Maybe one had popped out of my blouse!
“How can you dare come off as a proud Canadian?” he roared. “Figure skating has become a travesty!”
He couldn’t be serious. I assumed he was playfully stirring up a patriotic rivalry, if a little heavy on the histrionics. “Weren’t they beautiful last night?” I gushed. “And such the fairy tale couple—Canada’s sweethearts.”
“Sweethearts, my arse. Russia was robbed! First Plushenko, now this! The judging is rigged!”
Rich. A Russian whining about suspect judging in figure skating. I should have kept my mouth shut. Of course, I didn’t. “Are you kidding me?! Virtue and Moir were the best on the ice. The Russians were clunky and lucky to get the bronze. It wasn’t even close.”
He seethed. I sensed I was going to be fired for the second time in a month. But then he turned away with the precision of a trained army marcher. I worked the rest of the day without a single acknowledgment from any of my Russian coworkers. Who knew that the beautiful sport of ice dance could restart The Cold War?
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
THEY WERE FULL ICE CUBES, BUT HE CHOMPED ON THEM LIKE THEY WERE TINY SHARDS. SYMBOLIC. BASICALLY, I WAS THE ICE.
IT WLD BE FAIR TO SAY JERRY & I HAVE NEVER GOTTEN ALONG. I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT MY BIG SIS CLD DO BETTER. NOW SHE’S GOT 4 KIDS SHE’S RAISING ON HER OWN. THIS WASN’T MEANT TO BE A CASUAL LUNCH. HE LED OFF W/ “YOU GOT NO BUSINESS TRYING TO BE TRAVIS’ DAD” & THAT LEFT THINGS WIDE OPEN.
“YOU’VE GOT EVERY BUSINESS BEING HIS DAD,” I REPLIED. “BUT YOU DON’T STEP UP. I’M NOT GOING TO LET SARA STRUGGLE THRU PARENTING ALONE.”
“WELL, I’VE GOT MY—”
“WHAT? YOUR JOB? THAT’S NOT AN EXCUSE TO BE AN ABSENT FATHER. NO SENSE BRINGING IN ALL THAT MONEY IF THE KIDS DON’T TURN OUT RIGHT.”
HE STOOD UP AND GRABBED HIS SANDWICH. “THINK I’D RATHER FINISH THIS IN THE CAR.”
“YEP. YOU CAN DO THAT W/FOOD. GET IT ‘TO GO’. BUT YOU CAN’T DO THAT W/KIDS.”
NO DOUBT SARA WILL BLAST ME FOR STIRRING THINGS UP W/JERRY, BUT MR. TO-GO WILL BE ON A PLANE TOMORROW, IF NOT TONITE, & I’LL BE THE GO-TO PERSON ONCE AGAIN.
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You need to discuss recent changes with colleagues or family members, so start early and make sure everyone is willing to face up to what needs to be said. You can get almost anything done if you're firm.
Laura’s Log:
As a temp, I don’t expect to be welcomed to the fold with a box of chocolates and an invitation to join the gang at their favorite lunch haunt. I don’t even expect people to get my name right. Laurie, Lisa, Rapunzel,…close enough. But what happened to “hello”, “please”, “thank you” and “Canada rocks”?
The auto shop is owned by two Russian brothers and at least half the staff is Russian as well. They’d been cordial enough on my first day of work, but things iced over overnight.
I’d thoroughly enjoyed Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir’s graceful, captivating, golden ice dance last night and didn’t think twice about putting on my Canadian Olympic pin this morning. Sergi, one of the brothers, spotted it as he poured his first of forty cups of coffee. He stared, looking aghast. Since I’d completely forgotten the pin, I thought, first, he was ogling by breasts and, second, they had suddenly gone frighteningly asymmetrical. Maybe one had popped out of my blouse!
“How can you dare come off as a proud Canadian?” he roared. “Figure skating has become a travesty!”
He couldn’t be serious. I assumed he was playfully stirring up a patriotic rivalry, if a little heavy on the histrionics. “Weren’t they beautiful last night?” I gushed. “And such the fairy tale couple—Canada’s sweethearts.”
“Sweethearts, my arse. Russia was robbed! First Plushenko, now this! The judging is rigged!”
Rich. A Russian whining about suspect judging in figure skating. I should have kept my mouth shut. Of course, I didn’t. “Are you kidding me?! Virtue and Moir were the best on the ice. The Russians were clunky and lucky to get the bronze. It wasn’t even close.”
He seethed. I sensed I was going to be fired for the second time in a month. But then he turned away with the precision of a trained army marcher. I worked the rest of the day without a single acknowledgment from any of my Russian coworkers. Who knew that the beautiful sport of ice dance could restart The Cold War?
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
THEY WERE FULL ICE CUBES, BUT HE CHOMPED ON THEM LIKE THEY WERE TINY SHARDS. SYMBOLIC. BASICALLY, I WAS THE ICE.
IT WLD BE FAIR TO SAY JERRY & I HAVE NEVER GOTTEN ALONG. I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT MY BIG SIS CLD DO BETTER. NOW SHE’S GOT 4 KIDS SHE’S RAISING ON HER OWN. THIS WASN’T MEANT TO BE A CASUAL LUNCH. HE LED OFF W/ “YOU GOT NO BUSINESS TRYING TO BE TRAVIS’ DAD” & THAT LEFT THINGS WIDE OPEN.
“YOU’VE GOT EVERY BUSINESS BEING HIS DAD,” I REPLIED. “BUT YOU DON’T STEP UP. I’M NOT GOING TO LET SARA STRUGGLE THRU PARENTING ALONE.”
“WELL, I’VE GOT MY—”
“WHAT? YOUR JOB? THAT’S NOT AN EXCUSE TO BE AN ABSENT FATHER. NO SENSE BRINGING IN ALL THAT MONEY IF THE KIDS DON’T TURN OUT RIGHT.”
HE STOOD UP AND GRABBED HIS SANDWICH. “THINK I’D RATHER FINISH THIS IN THE CAR.”
“YEP. YOU CAN DO THAT W/FOOD. GET IT ‘TO GO’. BUT YOU CAN’T DO THAT W/KIDS.”
NO DOUBT SARA WILL BLAST ME FOR STIRRING THINGS UP W/JERRY, BUT MR. TO-GO WILL BE ON A PLANE TOMORROW, IF NOT TONITE, & I’LL BE THE GO-TO PERSON ONCE AGAIN.
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