Power Suit Me

I got a job. I am rather pleased with myself.

Go Team Me.

Corporate Me

So I discovered the new format offered by Blogger and decided to take advantage of it. I noticed the Adsense option, ( you allow ads to be placed on your blog and you get paid for doing nothing apart from sitting on your backside typing furiously on a keyboard) , and decided to install it.

Now I have an ad for Hurricane Katerina charitable relief.

I am going to need something a little more profitable if I plan on retiring at 35

Nergh.

Fish Watch


I think the Beta fish Ian has in a bowl is suicidal. The bowl is behind where I sit at the computer and all I have heard this morning have been little bursts of air bubbles from the demented fish. He sticks his little mouth above water, takes in a few gulps of air and then burps them out with all the charm of a newborn.

I hope he doesn't die on my watch.

Summer Rubbish

Since the start of May I have seen the following movies-

Blades of Glory -perhaps if I was a hormonal 12 year old I might have laughed
Spiderman 3 -they went OTT with the black eyeliner and failed rockstar look
Shrek 3 -seems the scriptwriters have forgotten what "funny" means
Pirates of the Caribbean 3 -Oh my god. I cannot believe the script was allowed outside the studio

Not one of the above godforsaken attempts from the film industry comes close to defining entertainment. Don't bother wasting your money. Paint your wall and watch it dry instead. Perhaps cut your toe nails. Maybe even clean the hair from under your bed.
To add insult to injury we were charged an extra $2 to see the Pirates of the Caribbean as it was, apparently, in High Definition.

Spare me.

Remember in "Pulp Fiction" the comparisons John Travolta drew with North America and Europe,... well not much the comparisons more the differences, via the medium of fast food? I have to agree with the Mad Scientologist. There aren't many huge or significant differences between Canada and Ireland, but there are little things can leave you in the quite the muddle.

Stores here in Canada stock more or less the exact same products as found in Ireland. However, Canadian marketing gurus have decided that packaging which sells perfectly well in Europe, OBVIOUSLY will never appeal to the Canadian consumer, so they have gone and changed it all. Or maybe they felt that Canadian packinging would never work in Europe. Neh. Either way, it had lead to me standing in stores, scratching my head wondering where the hell Herbal Essences has gone to and asking the store assistant, who now thinks I am an idiot, where everything is. For example. This is what Aussie Shampoo looks like in Ireland


And here is what it looks like in Canada.. well on this particular type.


See? I have to admit I am loving the purple packing. Makes it look less like a dollar store effort. Dear Lord I have sucummbed to the might of the marketing gurus!

I bought hair straightners today. Holy crap. They have ceramic plates coated in titanium. My hair feels like it could take on the might of one of those hair commercials where the models give themselves whiplash swinging their hair around.

L'oreal. Beacause I want a neck collar.

Canada's Finest!


This is an illustrative example of the very tough job Ian has to contend with daily. Today, he had to drive the speedboat around a lagoon.

He's like Sean Connery in a schpeedboath

It’s Abooot Time.

I have arrived. Canada, here I am. And what a tormented weather situation going on here. One day hot, next day cold and I AM BEING MOCKED FOR WEARING MY COAT WHEN IT IS COLD. Clothing etiquette defies just about everything here. Yesterday was a tad on the chilly side yet I passed a guy wearing shorts, a cut off shirt and flip-flops. Now, while he did have a rather impressive array of tattoos to show off, I was horrified at the amount of skin he was displaying in lukewarm weather.

Mutter.

So, getting here was relatively uneventful. Heathrow was Heathrow…. A mind-boggling sea of illogical thinking, Duty Free seems to have erased the “duty” and “free” aspects of the concept and communication barriers are loud and proud. . There was an unpleasant incident with my feta cheese tart- I couldn’t understand the waiter and he couldn’t understand me. I got my tart eventually but kept checking for an unsanitary or nasty little surprise.

I thoroughly recommend British Airways for all your aeronautical needs. A delightful airline complete with air stewards that fill you up with too much wine and compliment you on your perfume. Wonderful boys. However, Pearson airport wasn’t such a barrel of laughs. Immigration, as with all countries, is never a barrel of laughs. However, this was the first time that I was taken to one of those side rooms where you assume criminals are taken, not those on a valid work visa. I was asked to wait in an area with families from India and Pakistan among others. Fine you think, and find it would have been, had I not been left there without any information, without any guidance and without anyone even attempting to help me. Immigration Officers kept passing by ignoring my requests until finally a lovely female immigration officer approached me and asked, “Do you have a passport?”. The fact that I had just entered the country via an airplane was wasted. However, she instantly got into action and got me all visaed up.

Retrieving my bags was another matter. I love how airport personnel place charges on luggage carts. This is a reasonable action as it cuts down on inappropriate cart gatherings, however it really does not facilitate the traveler who doesn’t turn up with any local change. Then, to add insult to injury, you try getting change for that stupid cart machine. Yeah, it’s a rather large pain, particularly if you have to deal with the sour faced oompa loompa behind her bulletproof glass and the idiots that are oblivious to the queue concept.

Once out of the turmoil of international travel, things recovered themselves well… apart from the flood of tears when I saw Ian, (an odd blend of happiness, exhaustion and anger). So now that I am back on the old stomping ground it’s all good. Well, apart from the fact that I don’t have a job and am getting more and more depressed as the days go by. It’s one thing to have international experience, but quite another to have Canadian experience. It’s the old Catch 22 situation here and it is driving me nuts. I’m trying not to just settle for anything, instead utilizing the years and years I spent at university to some good use, and not falling foul to the immigrant trap.

Ian and I are getting on great, apart from his odd desire to see Spiderman 3. A film slated by critics. A film starring Tobey Maguire. Who should be slated with something solid. It is just me or is there something fiercely annoying about Mr. Maguire. However, in the name of international peace relations I have agreed to see it with Ian and two of his friends this week. The excitement just might kill me.

In shock news, Ian and I are considering buying bicycles to get fit. I know. Who would have thought? We have been walking lots, but Ian’s PC Plod pace does nothing for our relationship, so at least I can let him loose on Heber Downs, (local flora and fauna area) while I cycle around and around in circles on completely and utterly flat areas as I am loathe to pedal up a hill and too scared to freewheel down one. Well, the brakes could fail!

I shall write about my Orientation Day tomorrow as it is the finest definition of "ridiculous" I can think of.

In a few hours I will be on my way to Heathrow and then to Toronto. A ridiculous flight path. If you don't understand, whip out a map and look at where Limerick, London and Toronto are. It's as if the pilot has started to fly in one directon, realises he has gone the wrong way and just slaps the plane into reverse hoping no one will notice.
I have noted that my posts of late have had all the characteristics of blog post starvation, ( a treatable disease once detected early), and hope to have a little time to spare once arrived in Canada to do a little update. Seeing as Ian is a working man and I am neither, I will dedicate Monday morning to blogging. Expect a rant about an airline, the people they employ, and the loss of my baggage.

It's going to be an exciting one.