the screaming pages

I can’t donate blood. As a child of British immigrants who spent a significant time living and eating beef in England and Scotland, I’m on the indefinite deferrals list due to possible exposure to CJD or VCJD. No one in my family can donate blood for this reason.

My dad was a 35 year blood donor and was shocked to learn he would be no longer allowed to donate due to the change in rules. He understood it but the fact that he occassionally got calls at home asking him to donate once the decision to bar him was made was a bit annoying.

Worse was the hospital having mom donate her own blood prior to surgery and then throwing out the blood when the rules were changed. Instead of having her own blood put back into her, she was given someone else’s blood. The reason they gave her was that her blood wouldn’t be safe for infusion. What? Like she could have infected herself with something through her blood that she didn’t already have?

I think that because of my mom’s experience and because I’ve spent more than 3 months (cummulative) in Britain between 1980 and 1996, the Canadian Blood Services “It’s in you to give” commercials always struck the wrong cord with me. Obviously it’s not in me to give 😉

Today I’ve learned that someone in my family can donate blood. According to the Edmonton Sun article Wanted: canine blood donors, my puppy may be eligable to donate blood. Don’t let my calling him a puppy fool you. He’s a 55+ lbs 2 year old bundle of fire. According to the article “To donate blood, dogs should be no less than 23 kg, between one and eight years old and in good health.” Due to the weight and age restrictions, our oldest dog isn’t eligable (40+ lbs and 8 years old) but I think we’ll look into whether or not the puppy would be a good donor candidate when we visit the vet for his bi-annual check-up in November.

Technorati Tags: blood donor, canadian blood services, canine

Today was my first day back in the office. I’ve been working from my home office since leaving Saint John at the beginning of the month. It’s odd being surrounded by so many people again. It wasn’t as bad as I expected though. Unless of course you factor in the ewwww quotient that comes with having to clean out someone else’s desk drawers.

See, Boo* and I were moving cubes and since I was going to be away, Boo put in the paperwork and recommended I pack up my stuff so that it’d be easier to move when the approvals were complete. I packed up my stuff (how does one accumulate 4 boxes of “stuff” in only 8 years?) and set it aside for the move before heading to my parents house. I cleaned out all of my drawers and tried to make it suitable for the next occupant.

Today I spent the first part of the morning cleaning out the drawers in the desk I’ve inherited through my move. With all the crud in the drawers, I thought maybe the previous occupant had quit or been fired while I was away. Along with the stale foodstuffs, condiment collection, scraps of paper and crumbs I found employee personel records and financial reports. Skip the fact that I’m under the impression that these items shouldn’t have made it out of HR, they should have been shredded the minute the previous occupant left the company. They definitely should not have been sitting in unlocked drawers in the middle of the production floor. Imagine my surprise when I learned that she hadn’t left the company. I bumped into her later in the morning and learned that she’d just moved cubicles.

UGH! UGH! UGH!

Some people just have no respect for themselves, others, or other’s property.

* Boo earned her nickname due to her line of work. Just like the little girl from Monster’s Inc., she’s the sweet little girl surrounded by “monsters”.

Technorati Tags: home office, work, co-workers, cubicle

I love my house. It’s 790 square feet of beautiful cove ceilings, stained glass, ceramic tile, hardwood floors, and it’s all mine. The previous owners loved this house too and it’s obvious in the care they took with it. We’ve owned it for about 18 months and have made very few changes to the original decor. We painted one room (story here). Everything else remains as it was when we bought the house.

When we first viewed the house we noticed how small it was but thought it was absolutely perfect for the two of us. After we purchased the house, we started calling it the mouse house due to it’s diminutive size. Calling it a doll house just seemed too cliche – and way too girly for the two of us. Ever since, we’ve been happily referring to the house as the mouse house. The name just fits – both us and the building.

Every Sunday, the Edmonton Sun prints an article related to derelict houses in the city that have been boarded up by Capital Health. Last week, the article referred to the derelict house as a “mouse house”. Granted, they weren’t using the term as a cute way to describe the size of the building but rather the itty bitty critters running around inside it. It was obvious by the description provided that this “mouse house” wasn’t loved and cared for but rather ignored and let to rot from within.

I love my house and I don’t plan on changing how I refer to it. In future, I think I’ll be less surprised when people don’t respond favourably to our family nickname for the home.

Technorati Tags: house, home, mouse house, derelict housing

It was a beautiful day outside – the first sight of sunshine in days – so we spent most of it outside cleaning up the yard and prepping it for the upcoming snowfall. Spent a few hours helping the neighbour with his parking area and fence and got an invite to his daughter’s upcoming baby shower. Overall it was a quiet, calm day. Something I haven’t really had in months.

Mom is coming out to visit for Christmas.

I’m a movie fanatic. When the hubby or I are away from each other we have family rules regarding viewing new movies. It’s it’s something we both wanted to see, we won’t go see the movie in theatres, we’ll wait until we’re together and rent it.

Over the weekend we finally got to see Thank you for smoking. It’s got an excellent cast (includes Aaron Eckhart, Sam Elliott, William H. Macy, Robert Duvall and Maria Bello) and smart dialogue. The script pokes fun at the current PC (politically correct) world we live in and – despite the title of the movie – not a single cigarette is smoked on screen. Instead of glorifying smoking, the movie focuses on the voice behind the tobacco lobby and how he moves through both his work and his attempts to instill values and critical thinking in his son. If you haven’t seen it yet and get a chance to, I highly recommend that you take the time to view this movie.

During his sojurn to the video store the hubby also picked up Click. I’m not the biggest fan of Adam Sandler, but I do adore Christopher Walken. It’s definitely not a candidate for the Academy Awards, but as far as jello for the mind goes, it’s not bad and goes down easy. I did have some trouble with a few of the plot elements. The deaths of two “father” characters in the movie hit me extremely hard. I’d like to say that I’m not much of a crier when it comes to watching movies; there are too many people who read this blog that can easily dredge up a number of examples where I bawled like a baby during a movie to get away with it. The scene where Michael (Adam Sandler) sees his father (Henry Winkler) for the last time started the waterworks flowing. I’m sure it was a case of transference, but I couldn’t help worry that maybe I too spent too much time concentrating on work and stupid daily items as dad was dying and not enough time talking and spending time with him.

Technorati Tags: movies, Thank you for smoking, Aaron Eckhart, Click, Adam Sandler, Christopher Walken, dad, guilt