Hole that never heals. Oh. Wait. Wrong toast. Here’s to the boys of St. James Gate.

If I were to hazard a guess I’d say a fabulous time was had by all. I had the camcorder with me and recorded a big chunk of the show. The boys didnt seem to mind since they new where the recording would be heading.

Besides, I’m not known for having a steady hand those sections of the show where the tape isn’t wobbling like crazy? They’re likely taped by Loxley or Dr. D. The wobbly bits are all me baby. I forgot that tapping my foot along to the pipers would make the arm holding the camera shake. I blame it on the blond roots. Artificial intelligence gained from dying my hair appears to be receeding.

The boys dedicated “The last Saskatchewan pirate” to Drew. I may have missed recording the dedication. I won’t know until I convert the comcorder’s DVD recording to a format viewable on computer. I did manage to get the whole song – along with dancing (highland and otherwise) and many other songs – to send to Drew.

Klingon T won a flag of Ireland and in true cheap Scots fashion we decided to make due and not rush out to buy a Canadian one. Friends signed messages to Drew on the Irish flag. Seems fittting since I’m one quarter Irish. I keep forgetting my gran on my mum’s side was from the island.  Guess we can’t all be perfect and be 100% Scots…

At one point in the evening I may or may not have tried to talk Dr. D into a fight club type deal. First rule. We don’t talk about the ceilidh. I lost. So we agreed to blog about having a good time. I didn’t dance to St. James Gate. There’s no video or photographic proof. These are not the droids you’re looking for. Move along.

Just be thankful I lost or you wouldn’t be reading this post.

On the bright side I haven’t completely lost out. I do have a video clip I’ve been threatening to post to YouTube. How much is your disaffected teenage cool worth to you little A?

I still lay claim to my hollow gut award from Havencon ’97. Far more sober than the 1st annual Celt-X Robbie Burns party at the end of tonight. Good thing since I need to write and finish the work I’m doing on a course (work related) tomorrow.

Loxley. mcpyper, Dr. D. The gang was mostly here. And it was worth it.

If you missed it this year you really should make an effort to go next year. Perhaps Drew will even manage to make an appearance. Granted, I don’t know what we’d do if he did make the Robbie Burns ceilidh. He’s always been out of town in the past.

Thanks to Loxley for picking me up and getting me to the party and to Klingon T for making sure I got home safely. I checked my pockets. I still had cab fare. Must have had something to do with losing all the silent auction draws I was bidding on. Thanks to Dr. D for sharing his Trap and Gill prize. Now all I need is a date for lobster, clam chowder and Alpine beer.

Which reminds me. Must look up date and cost for tickets to the Irish Decendants. Sorry Drew. They’re in town on “Tuesday”. Me thinks I’m going to see them with Dr. D and B.

I’d feel bad but you’re supposedly seeing Ron James while you’re away. Yeah. James. Not Jeremy. As fun as that show might have been, Drew admits to having confused the names of the stars.

Ok. Bed time. Or at least time to let the dogs out…

I’m sending this from my iPhone at 2am so I can’t add links to the St. James Gate website at the moment. Will add it tomorrow for those too lazy to use Google.

UPPERDATE: Links added.  I rock.  Well, more acurately, St. James Gate rocks. And no Irish Decendants tickets for me. They’ll be in town on Boo’s birthday party and I’m already committed to spending the evening with her and the rest of the gang.  Dr. D and B will need to let me know how the show was…

Heading to Celt-X soon an am looking forward to a night out with friends. The Boys of St James Gate are providing the entertainment and they always put on an awesome show. Pat is doing the toast to the Haggis again. Drew has yet to see it but Im sure some day he will.

Loxley is coming to ferry me to the big event. It’s a huge cab ride for me to get there and back and I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage both ways. Since Loxley is chauffeuring me there it’s all going to work out. The return trip via cab fits the budget I set for the night out. Well, it does if Dr. D lives up to his promises 🙂

Got a package and letter from Drew today. He sent me a fabulous wooden bowl and some linens from a market in Kandahar. I got a kick out of the fact that the package contained linens cause I bought so many when I was living in India and Drew kinda wondered why. They’re woven, really beautiful and so soft. I believe you can learn much about a culture by learning about their textiles and how they’re manufactured. Oh and he sent a killer Tshirt that I’m planning to wear out to Celt-X tonight.

Which reminds me, I need to check the camcorder batteries are charged and get everything ready to go for tonight.

The afternoon trip to the doctor’s was pretty uneventful. He asked some questions and told me to make an appointment next week. I think he may take me on, since he’s asked me to come back to have a physical and take my family history. Then he says “we’ll see”. I’m going to take that as a good sign for now.

Gotta go change and make my self all beautiful for the night out. Hope your Saturday is as much fun as I know mine will be. Now the morning after experience will be evil. But hey, everyone needs to suffer through a well earned hangover once a year. I’m just getting mine out of the way early.

Skip guessing my name. Most of you know it already. Read the rant instead.

We continue to deal with “the great fallout of 2009” and so I didn’t leave work until 8pm last night. Hey, I’m writing this at 2am. Friday is officially “last night”. Mostly I left because I could no longer see straight or think coherently. After 11.5 hours of working (Lunch? Breaks? What are those?) I’m certain my brain has turned to mush. And I was afraid I’d get locked in the building and have to call security to get out. Nearly all of my co-workers are gone at 4pm or earlier on a Friday. Most of us come in earlier in the morning to leave earlier… I was damn close to being alone. No one else was in my office bank. Even the cleaning crew was done hours earlier. My closest co-worker (that I know of who remained behind) was a building away…

I have a paper due this weekend. I have a doctor appointment later this afternoon. And I can’t forget the Celt-X Robbie Burns night party at night. Gotta charge the camcorder batteries for that. Taking home movies to send to Drew and all that.

I’m officially taking Saturday off from the work project that’s now due Monday. No work for me. I’ll pick it back up on Sunday.

I am slowly beginning to realize that work isn’t worth screwing up my own school schedule or negatively impacting my grades, health or family life. My job certainly doesn’t pay me enough, or acknowledge my hard work or skills enough, to make me rank it above my school work, sleep, etc. on a weekend!

You might not recognize it but I know I’ve come a long way in a few years. Not long ago I would have set all my own needs and desires aside to do whatever it took to get a job done. Years of being ignored and taken for granted at work are finally beginning to sink in. I can kill myself to get project finished and no one will notice or blink an eye. Its my own fault. I’ve set that expectation in others. Need to put out a fire? Of course I’ll ignore my husband or school life to do whatever you need to make the company look good… You get the picture. Sure the new place isn’t as bad as the previous place I worked – they haven’t scheduled me 17 hour days with no breaks for weeks on end for example – but in many ways it’s the same. I often wonder if anyone even knows I exist or what I do. So much so that I’m not sure I have any idea what exactly my job entails…

I just do what needs to be done.

My mom worries that I talk about work too much on my blog. She’s afraid future employers won’t hire me because of its contents. I’d like to think I’m obscure enough in my writing that future employers should have little to worry about. I don’t name names – not of my workplace or co-workers – and I don’t recall ever specifically detailing any problems at work. I try to use generalizations as much as possible.

My memory could be faulty of course.

Since I started blogging in 2003 I’ve never hidden my site or how to find me online. This is me. Warts an all.

However, you have to know me personally to know my name, where I work, what exactly I’m working on, and what, specifically, I’m ranting about on any particular day. And if you know me that well than nothing I’d ever say about my concerns or experiences at work would ever come as a surprise to you. Mostly because you’d have already heard me spout off a detailed opinion in person. I’m mouthy like that.

I can’t control what others may choose to read into my words – those written and those left unsaid. I also can’t control the impressions others have of me thought my personal writing. If you choose to see yourself in anything I write then I can’t do anything to impact or change your perceptions. Most people I refer to in my writing are well aware of their pseudonyms (some were selected or “dictated” by said individuals), are aware of my blog and the bulk of what I’ve written about them from face-to-face conversations, and frequently have read what I’ve written about them. A bunch of them comment here off and on. If I’m off base or overly zealous in a post they can correct me anytime. And sometimes do.

Of course, if I haven’t told you personally how to find my blog and what your pseudonym is, there’s a very good chance I’m NOT writing about you. Get over yourself already!

And you thought my ego was big…

Apparently I wrote too soon when I said the treadmill was behaving. It decided to stop at the 1 mile mark exactly tonight. Before jumping on the treadmill I shoveled some of the snow and ice from the walkway today. It’s amazing what il do in the name of procrastination 🙂

I’ve got two chapters to try and chew through this evening and I’d really like to get another mile on the treadmill before bedtime.

I continue to be a rotten wife. I have yet to sit down and write Drew a letter this week. I have a small box ready to mail out but need to get off my butt and write a letter to include with the package.

Time to put down the iPhone, stop blogging, and start reading. Have a good night all.

UPPERDATE: 60 pages of the original million plus one left to read. I’ve just read the same page 4x with nothing registering. Setting it aside for the evening. Should be able to finish up tomorrow evening. 0.6 miles on second trip on treadmill. Lazy and brain dead tonight…

Happy birthday dad; wherever your spirit rests.  In 2007 I watched the sun rise over the Taj Mahal.  Last year I was digging out from a snow storm and trying to write a paper.  This year I whine.

Apparently I have to audition to get a family doctor. Maybe audition isn’t the right turn of phrase but it certainly feels that way this afternoon.

For years I’ve been dragging my butt to a local medi-centre to be poked and prodded by whichever doctor is on hand. There’s a doctor shortage in these parts and all that.  Unfortunately for me, there exist a few chronic illnesses  in my family. And I’m a bit worried they’ve been rearing their ugly symptoms of late. When I dared question the clinic doctors about them I was informed in no uncertain terms that I needed to get myself a steady family doctor immediately and stop visiting the clinic.  I’m sure there’s a legitimate reason for that. Build up of relationship between doctor and patient.  Common medical files. Some such nonsense.

Whatever.  I’ve just spent the day going through the list of every doctor who is accepting considering accepting patients according to Capital Health.  Of the 28 doctors on the list, two had phone numbers that were disconnected (or inaccurate on the site perhaps). One had a phone number with a continual busy signal.  Three rang incessantly and went unanswered.  Most of the remaining numbers I called led to part-time clinic doctors (only accepting clinic patients) who do not accept appointments.  Oh, and they’re not really accepting patients either. Apparently some patients at the clinics ask for the doctors by name.  So, instead of waiting for the next available doctor, you can specify who you want to wait for.  My current clinic already offers that “service”. I just don’t see the point of leaving one clinic where I’ve been going for years to sit around the waiting room in another clinic.

Finally after a lot of calling I finally got through to a doctor who is accepting new patients. The office is quite a ways away from home but since I already travel 15kms to reach my dentist I figure 10kms in the opposite direction to see a doctor isn’t too bad.  There’s just one catch. The doctor has to meet me for a consult to determine whether or not he wants me as a patient. Me, I didn’t know doctors being paid by my tax dollars had the right to refuse patients.

Now I’m worried that I won’t be deemed acceptable.

It’s not that I go to the doctor often.  Hell, I probably don’t visit them nearly enough. In that way I’m a lot like my dad was.  I mostly show up at the doctor’s office if I’ve sprained or broken something. I think the last time I was there – outside of the odd knuckle injury about a month back – was nearly a year ago.  So. I hit a doctor’s office maybe 2x a year. Not a huge workload or inconvenience at this stage.

The problem is, as I mentioned earlier, there are a few illnesses that run through my family.

One I know I have.  I don’t take medication for it. Mostly because I decided I didn’t like the way the meds made me feel and they just treated some of the symptoms while making others worse. So I’ve learned to live with the symptoms and make do. That’s my choice.  I suspect that may change in future. Eventually some of the nastier symptoms will set in and I’ll likely have to accept medications. But for now, and until they appear, the make do approach suits me just fine.

What worries me is disorder #2 isn’t one that I can choose to ignore manage in the same manner as I’m currently dealing with #1.  And #2 may end up being a bit of work for any doctor – especially in the beginning. So, if a doctor is allowed to refuse a patient, what’s a girl to do?  Apparently #2 is serious enough that the clinic doctors think I need a full time family doctor to manage the illness and it’s associated symptoms.  If I don’t tell the doctor why I want/need a family doctor I’m worried he won’t feel any urgency to accept me. On the other hand, if I do tell him and he decides I’m too much “work”, I may find myself back where I started from; calling every doctor in a phone list attempting to find one who’ll take me.

So I’m waffling. I have an appointment Saturday afternoon. Keep your fingers and toes crossed.  I can use all the luck I can get as I try to find a doctor who’ll accept me warts and all.

Let this be a lesson to US based readers. Don’t believe the hype. Canada’s medical system may be “free” but it’s horribly sick. Huge percentages of Canadians don’t have family doctors or appropriate medical care. Sure, it’s not driven by our inability to pay or a lack of health insurance. Rather, it’s driven by a manufactured shortage of doctors and primary care workers.

Special note for frequent readers: I’ve been informed that co-worker R, who I renamed mommy R yesterday, prefers to be referred to as big momma R.  Henceforth I shall try to remember the new title. Our hero shall still be occasionally referred to as Marion as befits the occasion.  That is all.