Lazzzeeeeee

There will be a great, big, long, boring description of my first week at work, what I do, where I do it, how I do it, how it is treating me and how I am treating it. In the coming week. Getting up for work at 530am and getting home for 630pm has been a little bit of a shock to the system so I shall be a little more accustomed to my farmer like early morning rising shocker in the next few days.

This weekend was spent lying on my rear end moaning as I had contracted a little cold. No doubt due to all the air conditioning......... and work.

Today we went to MoSport to watch cars chase each other around a piece of cement. I brought a book. It would have been fun had there not been trees sapping on me. And bugs flying around. And bees.

Barbeque chez King tonight. I must go eat my body weight in salad, dip and brisket. No idea what brisket it. I shall report back on its status.

Hurrah!

I am ever so happy. Paul Potts won Britain's Got Talent. I am very pleased for this very unassuming little guy from Wales. Go the Welsh!

It was also a Hurrah! week for me as I finally set up a bank account here, got myself a swanky cell phone and managed to locate a few work clothes that should fit the "respectable" bill. Of course, locating said clothes was not as easy as expected as stores were lacking in my size. I can only presume that it is the popular size. I am convincing myself that is so.

I start work tomorrow. I shall be up and about at 530am. No doubt you can sense the excitement.

Must go back to watching the Much Music Awards, (think MTV Video Awards. In Toronto. Obviously.)

Score!

For something crude and rude, yet laugh out loud, may I recommend "Knocked Up"for your viewing pleasure. Hilarious movie, with the odd tender moment.

I think this one tops my 'Best of....Summer 2007' List. Although, it's not that great a feat when you consider the competition.

Sensational.

Every so often you hear something beautiful. This guy, a very humble unassuming individual had the power to make tears run down my face.

Beautiful.

Head High!

Last night Ian and I went for a few drinks with some people from his college course. One guy had his girlfriend with him, both of whom were eager to hear about my experiences in Canada and comparisons with Ireland. The following discussion ensued,

Girl It must be great in bars with your accent!

Me Huh?

Girl Lots of guys must chat you up because of your Irish accent. A friend has arrived from England and everytime we are out with her, guys line up to talk with her and get her number

Me That has never happened to me

Girl Oh..............................

Well, I felt great last night.

Egoboostastic.

Joke

What's Mr. T's favourite yoghurt?


A Petit Filous!



I have not been able to stop laughing! It's comic genius

Stanley Cup!

Over the last few nights I have been watching the ice-hockey playoffs for the Stanley Cup. And I have to say I have really enjoyed watching them. I have only ever glanced at games in the past so know little to nothing about the sport, other than it is very fast, very technical and demands high levels of skill from its players. So, No Hockey Knowledge Me was watching the games between the Ottawa Senators and the Anaheim Ducks and was intrigued by a Ducks player by the name of Niedermayer. His movement on the ice, his skill in the game and his ability to work his opponents drew my eye. I liked what I saw, and, in particular liked how effortlessly he game skated.

I was rather pleased with my observations when Niedermayer was voted MVP, (Most Valuable Player) and his team won the Stanley Cup. I could be a scout! YAH!

I must dig out the pictures of me and the cup, (or should that read, "the cup and I"?), for memories and what not. Another trip to the Hockey Hall of Fame is due.

P.S. The Stanley Cup is the equivalent of the UEFA/FA Cup in football and the Six Nations in rugby.

Brrr

On Saturday the temperature was 32 celsius with sun. Today it dropped to 8 with rain. Welcome to Canada.

Ian and I went apartment hunting. I was in four layers of clothes and still felt the chill. I am in quite the spot of bother come Winter.

Sand

Forgot to mention the anal relationship Ian has with sand.

While walking on a sandy beach at the lake, Ian kept stopping every few paces to SHAKE THE SAND OUT OF HIS SANDALS. Does anyone else find this as hilarious as me?

He was quite the happy camper when he managed to walk from the beach to the cottage without getting any sand in his sandals. The fact that he looked like an arthritic 80 year old trying not to get sand in his sandals was too funny for words.

I imagine he will dump me after reading this post.

Lake Eerie

It would be so much easier to stick up a few photos and comment on them re: the weekend at Lake Eerie, but seeing as I forgot the camera, I no longer have the easy option. Mutter.

So, our weekend was fantastic. I really am getting old. Gone are the days where a weekend involving no sleep, bars, clubs and half the population of a city could entertain me. Now I want a comfortable chair, lights out at a decent hour and three square meals. I got just that for two whole days. Ian and I left chez nous on Friday afternoon with the car packed full of food and underwear. Seeing as I am new to the whole Canada experience, Ian and his parents discussed which expressway to take to the Lake. There are multiple options, the common one being the Road of Terror, aka the 401. However, seeing as it was a Friday afternoon, it was assumed that the 401 would be a nightmare and so it would be prudent to take the Toll 407. So off we went, 407 bound. Turns out we sat on a glorified parking lot for an hour. Traffic around Toronto at any point of any day is completely and utterly insane. So insane, that if there is a single little hiccup at any point on the expressway, all lanes suffer. Ian compares it to the Butterfly Effect. If someone brakes suddenly 20 miles ahead, the effect will vibrate its way back to the last car, increasing strength as it travels. In our case, there was a minor accident on the 407 involving a slight dent to one car from another. Both cars had pulled over to the side, freeing up traffic access, but because humans are nosy, everyone kept tapping their brakes to slow down for a look. The result was traffic slowed to almost a complete standstill adding an extra hour onto our journey. We moaned and complained but we still made sure we got a good gawk at the scene of the accident.

Once at the lake I regained my love of the countryside. Until all the bugs came at me. Seeing as it was dark when we arrived, we had no option other than to sit down and indulge in an Entourage marathon. I aspire to one day be as obnoxious as Ari Gold.

The following day I bossed Ian into making breakfast and afterwards we went for a walk on the beach. It was sunny and 32 degrees and Ian seemed convinced he was immune to skin cancer. He sat out in the sun for three hours and then ambled along the beach for another hour followed by another two hours just sitting on a chair in the sun. My pleas with him to put on some sun block were met with snorts of disgust. Was I not aware that his reddened arms would turn a golden brown? Did I not know that Ian isn't going to succumb to skin cancer?

As you can imagine I got in quite the snot with him. I understand that he naturally tans, but correct me if I am wrong here, but scorching your skin to turn brown makes zero medical sense whatsoever. I was pretty pissed with him for being so irresponsible, but of course, there was no talking to him. Instead I sat in the sun LATHERED in factor 45. I actually glowed with all the block I applied.... of course sand kept sticking to my lathered skin so I had quite the odd look going.

After breakfast we went for a walk on the beach. Never, ever, have I seen so many fish and bird skeletons as I saw on that beach. It was like being on Animal CSI. While ambling Ian found a bone in the sand. I can assure you that Grissom's job is quite safe as neither one of us could determine if it was human or not. We decided to lump it on Ian's Aunt's deck. Maybe she can determine what it is.

That night we continued our Entourage marathon. Aren't box set DVD's the best thing ever?

The next day was, unfortunately, grey, damp and not very sunworthy. Ian and I enjoyed breakfast, stuck our heads outside the door and pulled mine back in pretty quickly what with the dramatic increase in the mosquito population. Bleurgh. Seeing as there wasn't much point in sitting out in the rain, we started to clean the cottage and while doing so turned on the TV. On it was a show called "Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader?"The concept of this show is to have adults answer questions relating to school subjects for those in Grade 5 and under with the potential of winning $1,000,000. It sounds very simple, but not so for some of the parents... and if I am being truthful, even myself. Most of the questions are pretty simple, but some can leave you in quite the pickle. Take for example the contestant I saw yesterday. She was asked what country has the largest border with the United States. The woman said Mexico.

Has she ever seen a map of North America? Really? How ditzy do you have to be to get that one wrong. How do you not know about the second largest country in the world to the north of you?

Gah.

Anyhoo, after that Ian and I returned to Toronto. With Ian almost having a child seeing as traffic wan't going to the speed he would have selected. Once home, I scratched all my bug bites and made them worse than they were.

Lord in Himmel........

So, Ian and I went to Lake Eerie for the weekend. I shall talk more about that later on. I feel the most important thing to discuss right now is the blatant disregard the Ontario authorities have for the volume of human inbreeding in certain parts of the Trillium province. Allow me to explain. While driving to the lake Ian and I had a craving for Taco Bell. Yeah, I know. No need to lecture on the potential side effects. I know them all. But, the new cheese taco thing looked AMAZING on TV and we all know how easily swayed I am on certain things. I mean, hell, they look good on TV, so OBVIOUSLY they will be yummy in my tummy.

Ian and I stopped at a town enroute that had a Taco Bell. We were quite the ecstatic pair and almost blew up with excitement when we saw the Taco Bell sign. We pulled into the parking lot and merrily tottered in. I had to run to the bathroom first so let Ian join the queue. A toilet is a very good benchmark for any food establishment and this Taco Bell was sliding down the scale, (much like the edibles on offer). There was an inexplicable smell, one that nauseated and encouraged record breaking bladder evacuation and the fact that the toilet failed to flush, instead gurgling human excrement at me, had me in a quite the pickle. I quickly evacuated said bathroom and ran to the queue to find Ian lurking at the back of it with a rather dubious look on his face. A scan of the restaurant patrons revealed that all were from the same paternal line and that most, if not all, were suffering from some form of genetic trauma. There wasn't a functioning brain cell in the place. I am not exaggerating in any way. The genetic trouble did not stop at the patrons, it most certainly extended to the staff. Not willing to sacrifice our remaining intelligence out our digestive health, I am ashamed to say that we ran away from Taco Bell. In a fit of hysterical laughter.

The closest alternative was McDonalds. It was clean at least, but still demonstrated the need for sexual education and contraception in this particular blip on the population scale.

And don't get me started on parents that allow their children run riot in a public place. The sound of a three year old saying "Hello" over and over and over again like some moronic demon serves to augment the evidence of something not functioning all that well upstairs.

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.

Only two more days and I am finished work. To say I am "winding down" would be an understatement. I am moving around the office with all the speed of a slug taking a leisurely slide with the efficiency of a hanging sloth. Indeed, productive. Tomorrow, I will have a staff lunch with my team and some of the girls and, then, Friday sees my leaving do. I am prepping the camera for shame inducing pictorials. It shall not be given to anyone else unless they promise to take flattering pictures of me. A flawless plan!

Once all that is done, I will have to get around to doing some packing. An activity I LOATHE. So much so that I would not be shocked if I start binning things so I don't have to pack them and drag them to Limerick and then all the way to Canada! Aaahhh laziness.

Of course my actual arrival into Canada is under serious doubt at the moment. I have a visa...... somewhere in the world. I haven't recieved any paper stating that I have been approved for entry into Canada. If I don't get this piece of paper soon I have zero proof that I have a visa waiting for me in Canada, therefore prohibting me from gaining entry to Canadialand.

And can I get any response from the people who are supposed to be dealing with it? But of course not.