tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199833362024-03-20T19:45:10.691-04:00Bizzy Girl's WorldThe diatribes and random musings of an occupied woman in the 21st CenturyBizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-49058197285374910502010-09-12T20:01:00.007-04:002010-09-12T21:29:34.878-04:00No more bones in the closetThe unplanned child of a young, unmarried Italian-American woman, I was given up for adoption in a town just outside of Toronto, Canada in the fall of 1969. My mother had been quietly ushered out of the country, and away from the only home she had ever known, a quiet community in the midwest, before her belly began to swell so that no one would know, and people wouldn't think poorly of her family. It wouldn't be until after I was born, put up for adoption and officially out of the picture before she would be welcomed back into the fold.<br /><br />My grandmother, a proud and determined woman, insisted that my existence be completely concealed. She could not have her relatives learn of her daughter's immoral indiscretion. It would shame the entire family. My mother was acutely aware of the fact that she has almost ruined her family's reputation, and spent the rest of her parents' lives trying to make it up to them.<br /><br />We were reunited in 2000, and a reunion with my grandparents followed in the summer of 2001. It was a cordial visit. We had dinner and listened to my grandfather's lively mealtime banter, but other than this there was no dialogue. They gave me family photos to look at, but no one wanted to know about my life or learn anything about me. I left the meeting feeling emotionally bruised and incredibly disappointed. I longed to build a relationship with my newly found family, but my mother told me that she would never be able to introduce me to any of my relatives while my grandmother was alive. She had to respect her wishes.<br /><br />On Sunday, August 29th, 2010, my grandmother passed away at the age of 86. The day of the burial there were about 80 friends and family members in attendance. During the luncheon afterward my mother made the official announcement that she had a daughter she gave up for adoption 41 years ago. While the family was excited to hear this news, they were rather shocked that they had kept me a secret all these years. I'm willing to bet that it wouldn't have made any difference to them had they known about me ten years ago.<br /><br />It will be interesting to see if life outside the closet is all it's cut out to be...Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-73676838415230694832010-05-25T23:31:00.005-04:002010-05-25T23:47:58.272-04:00How I became a CUAO*<div>December 31, 2007. It was New Year's Eve and I was spending it alone and depressed. The man I had been in an exclusive relationship for the past year and a half had blown me off on this special occasion after not having hardly even acknowledged my existence over the Christmas holidays, choosing instead to spend it with his ex-wife and in-laws. I was feeling like a fool, and was very, very sad.<br /><br />It was supposed to have been a wonderful New Year's this year. He spoke of getting all his friends together at his place and hosting a party. I was going to meet his 'posse' for the first time, and I was so excited about this. Meeting his buddies was just another stepping stone in our relationship, further cementing his commitment to me. At the eleventh hour he ended up deciding against doing the party, citing some watered down reason that didn't make any sense. There were so many of these things he said we would do that never came to fruition: trips to Niagara-on-the-Lake and Jamaica, sailing in Greece. He had me believing that he actually planned on doing these things with me one day in the near future.<br /><br />About a week into 2008 he dumped me via email after standing me up for a dinner date saying he 'just wanted to be by myself for awhile'. I was so hurt by his cavalier dismissal that I couldn't even muster a reply to his message. I never spoke to or heard from him again.<br /><br />It was at this juncture in my life when I came upon <a href="http://www.therulesbook.com/">The Rules</a>. This last relationship catastrophe out of several before it was the final straw for me that put me in that place where I was open to a new dogma and a fresh perspective. I realized I was doing something dreadfully wrong, but as my modus operandi was to be as accommodating, happy and easygoing as possible in my relationships I couldn't for the life of me figure out what could be the matter. I was completely and utterly confused and frustrated.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOK0iXdbBchjJ_SvtKS-lUrSIWsrSxHJmNw5meduu8cvCV-CmAM5GyQEQ2M1uOneYYEsA5xLBGgsKVpOAUeQntvgpJ7HE_KB13a1J3yBTWxphvWS_E_rzY0h7QFtPoWtQ3gkn/s1600/3820727239_73370ff79c_o.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 319px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475419648803947346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOK0iXdbBchjJ_SvtKS-lUrSIWsrSxHJmNw5meduu8cvCV-CmAM5GyQEQ2M1uOneYYEsA5xLBGgsKVpOAUeQntvgpJ7HE_KB13a1J3yBTWxphvWS_E_rzY0h7QFtPoWtQ3gkn/s320/3820727239_73370ff79c_o.jpg" /></a><br />The Rules book was familiar to me as it had been in publication since 1995, but to be honest I sort of rolled my eyes at it initially thinking it was some kind of radical do-whatever-it-takes-to-get-a-man type piece of writing that you might find in Lonely Woman's Weekly. I assumed it was meant for desperate, conniving, opportunistic women with an agenda.<br /><br />Boy was I wrong.<br /><br />I was stunned at how the book seemed to have been written with ME in mind. Every possible mistake a woman could make in her quest to find Mr. Right is listed in this book, and I was both shocked and dismayed to learn that <em>I had made every single one of them</em>...bar none. I read and reread the book until its principles were deeply rooted in my consciousness. After digesting its message I can say with 100% confidence that I would still be in a relationship today had I followed <a href="http://www.therulesbook.com/">The Rules</a>.<br /><br />However, the Universe works in interesting ways, and I have no regrets. When all was said and done it took me all of two days to get over him, which only reinforced the gut feelings I had throughout our relationship that it wasn't 'right'. Being so taken with him I wasn't able to see with clear vision, but in the end he revealed his true colours to me. He was devious and dishonest, virtually devoid of character, and had, as my father so eloquently put it, 'a very robust ego' that was so big it was a wonder there was room for me in his life at all. He was not, as it turned out, a good match for me, so he actually did me a favour!<br /><br />I am no longer resentful of his behaviour and treatment of me. Instead I am grateful to him for bringing me to <a href="http://www.therulesbook.com/">The Rules</a>, which will eventually lead me to the person with whom I was meant to be all along.</div><br /><em>*Creature Unlike Any Other</em><br /><br /><br />Photo courtesy <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/smatterbrainz/">Smatterbrains</a><br /><em></em>Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-23910673409837233582010-05-24T23:12:00.004-04:002010-05-25T00:02:55.458-04:00Long weekend musingsSigh...I want to live <a href="http://www.liveatthedistillery.com/index2.html">here</a>.<br /><br />I weighed in at Mum's today (I don't own a scale of my own personal choice). I'm down to 145lbs!<br /><br />Thinking of trying speed dating again. Wondering if I'm insane.<br /><br />I'm sure gonna miss that <a href="http://www.thestar.com/entertainment/television/article/813094--goodbye-mr-bauer">Bauer dude</a> on Monday nights.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/video/2010/05/24/VI2010052402942.html?sid=ST2010052403992">Fergie...WTF???</a>Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-76479248360174472852010-05-23T18:07:00.011-04:002010-05-23T18:54:47.122-04:00A Day at the Beach(es)Today Kelly and I enjoyed a lovely brekkie at a place just down the street from her apartment. Doing my level best to adhere to my diet, I ordered two eggs scrambled, bacon and rye toast. It came with home fries, which I ignored, and I only had one slice of the toast - no jam. I asked if they had any fruit, and they did not. There were a couple half slices of orange on my plate as a garnish, so I ate that, and I only ate three pieces of the bacon (three slices is actually one serving, and the calorie count is over 200!).<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNNKomD7EJ-jjShuxakIeCyEI6YafilpoTeTjGrBcpChFNimeKs-Bm1JlBN6m3PsJ9xkhoV7dQe6jrP3w-e1DoqBMP3l9ESY287olJR6LI2aoBsU9Upp29X7oDbeRFX5ZrJRj/s1600/Kew+Beach+wedding.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 175px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474600127925612274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNNKomD7EJ-jjShuxakIeCyEI6YafilpoTeTjGrBcpChFNimeKs-Bm1JlBN6m3PsJ9xkhoV7dQe6jrP3w-e1DoqBMP3l9ESY287olJR6LI2aoBsU9Upp29X7oDbeRFX5ZrJRj/s320/Kew+Beach+wedding.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngmJd7TERMTYJXQ1vq2c_S85xhlNEDN14wGCQn2IN3ePcGSfM0VOEB8JZ2cOwT89VgLdSDH-jxWTFJu3y_29nGlcjRQlwMANK7I5_8x0ODOvjo1xaj7Gcn7dd3uXuHtpuh9JK/s1600/014.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 167px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474600558617119874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngmJd7TERMTYJXQ1vq2c_S85xhlNEDN14wGCQn2IN3ePcGSfM0VOEB8JZ2cOwT89VgLdSDH-jxWTFJu3y_29nGlcjRQlwMANK7I5_8x0ODOvjo1xaj7Gcn7dd3uXuHtpuh9JK/s320/014.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Then we went for a stroll and hopped the TTC down to The Beaches. It had been six years since I'd been down there, and it was such a beautiful day that we couldn't resist taking advantage of it. We did a little shopping, and happened across Kew Beach United Church, where my father and stepmother were married almost 30 years ago! It was in much better repair at that time, unfortunately.<br /><br />We stopped for bubble tea, and then proceeded to the Boardwalk to people- and dog-watch. A young girl approached us with a collection of seashells asking us if we would like to purchase any, as she was raising funds to buy her friend a birthday present. At 25 cents each we couldn't say no....<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474601438021129490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqRkxKOH-wzfAxOqeno5mMdbTAOSbgkhBHSK7j6NzV6uWAB2xLQkKxTBW8EijMc8cswciAqO1boZYz9gamFNTBqOULLxfJrWTw6i3ConbI5iAGUE7BMSOGDrvlLMVbQkC1ejOw/s200/019.JPG" />Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-25926372860285915442010-05-22T12:40:00.005-04:002010-05-22T13:01:04.148-04:00How I Did ItUp until recently I've not been taking very good care of myself. I didn't care what I ate, led an inactive lifestyle, and wasted endless hours of time on the internet. Then, on April 25, 2010 I found myself at an emergency animal hospital facing the euthanasia of my beloved calico, Hermione. She had battled for weeks with kidney failure, and all my attempts at returning her to good health failed. It was a terrible day.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9qCdPMhggeK28s4N7mz84jhyphenhyphen1goj0SU7QF7wKiMEw7Rf9J_fNOhls7OaLoUZHukqoVlAqMQgqUfuKf2jTuJNlf0iO9tdDMFEKKYbYMlU6WbUUgwb4NW7kXgLBjGNqqT74dZUv/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474138054862164274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9qCdPMhggeK28s4N7mz84jhyphenhyphen1goj0SU7QF7wKiMEw7Rf9J_fNOhls7OaLoUZHukqoVlAqMQgqUfuKf2jTuJNlf0iO9tdDMFEKKYbYMlU6WbUUgwb4NW7kXgLBjGNqqT74dZUv/s320/003.JPG" /></a><br />After having to make that dreadful decision something switched in me. I decided that I had to take charge of my life and stop wasting it. I began taking an interest in my own health and well-being, as I had suddenly come to the realization that if I was going to lead the life I wanted, it was up to me and me alone. At the time I weighed 152lbs, which at barely over 5ft tall is considered overweight. I was not exercising at all.<br /><br />I began the <a href="http://www.southbeachdiet.com/sbd/publicsite/how-it-works/how-it-works.aspx">South Beach Diet</a>, which I had done back in 2003 with phenomenal results, shedding 23lbs. A friend at work had mentioned she was going on the diet as well, so I decided I would join her. Over the next two weeks I dropped 6 lbs and my body shape started changing dramatically. At the same time I started the habit of going for a 1/2 hour brisk walk in the afternoon, which really helped me get over that afternoon slump. I amazed myself at the level of will power I had when treats were offered me - I simply had no interest in them.<br /><br />I am staying the course now until the end of July, at which time I will be back to my perfect weight of 120lbs. I enjoy exercising, whereas I did not before, and find that I am feeling and looking much better. It is all of these outcomes that have spurred me to stick with it and embrace my new lifestyle.<br /><br />This morning I had an amazing breakfast of old fashioned oatmeal (not the instant kind) cooked with low-fat milk. I added to it blueberries, chopped walnuts, cinnamon and 1/2 tsp of real organic maple syrup. It was FANTASTIC. After that I did some <a href="http://www.beachbody.com/product/fitness_programs/yoga_booty_ballet.do?gclid=CKqrivub5qECFYNd5Qod9DjKIw&code=GOOGLE_SEMB_YBB&extcmp=395530839&ef_id=1908:3:s_e0022577ebad85c5b0d370c5ae03efe2_4207429543:S-gNudBbrmIAABbbBP8AAANA:20100522170041">Yoga Booty Ballet </a>and I feel great.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1rlITtBc4og&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1rlITtBc4og&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />I'm so happy and grateful to have finally taken charge of my life to live it the way I've always wanted!Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-72824104782940126002010-05-20T22:55:00.002-04:002010-05-20T22:58:31.181-04:00Time for a changeI have about three blogs on the go right now and a Linked In profile. I have a job that keeps me so busy that it completely consumes 75% of my waking hours. My boys are getting older and needing more of my attention instead of less, and they don't get much from their father.<br /><br />Some big changes are on the horizon for us...Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-8234756547107730652008-10-03T23:41:00.004-04:002008-10-04T19:39:11.414-04:00Visitation<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ozoni11/508129630/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/210/508129630_8e204527db_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" > <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ozoni11/508129630/">Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata)</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ozoni11/">ozoni11</a>. </span></div>My father used to be a big fan of the Toronto Blue Jays. Before he got sick we would sometimes go with him to see them play. When we were in the outdoors and caught a rare sighting of this handsome bird, Dad would quip "There's Kelly Gruber." He owned more of his favourite baseball team's paraphernalia than anyone I'd ever known.<br /><br />He was diabetic since he was sixteen years old, and by the time he reached sixty his condition had worsened to the point where his organs started failing on him. He fought to stay well as long as possible, and did his best to enjoy life and took great pleasure in my two sons, his only grandchildren at the time. He thought they were the neatest kids in the world. Dad passed away peacefully in his sleep in his 67th year after having deteriorated to a wisp of a man - nothing at all like the fun-loving guy everyone knew.<br /><br />The boys and I were out golfing the other day. It was threatening to rain, but shortly after we got started the sun came out and the weather turned beautiful. My oldest son was having a difficult time with his game, and was getting very frustrated. He was snapping off at his brother and I out of exasperation, and we were all very tense. When we reached the seventh hole, we had calmed ourselves. I told the boys that their Grandpa would have loved to be with us on the green like this, and I smiled to myself as I envisioned how proud he would have been of them trying to learn what used to be a favourite hobby of his.<br /><br />Josh's first shot on the 7th hole ended up slicing, but not too far from the green on the other side of a small hill. Not wanting him to get frustrated again I cheerfully told him to just toss his ball over the hill and we wouldn't count it. He took his next shot from about 15 feet away from the hole, and we all watched in amazement as his ball careened straight to the hole, ricocheted off the flagpole, which was hadn't taken out yet, came back and rolled right in! The shot was a complete fluke, and we were all so surprised and delighted by it. I gave Josh a high five.<br /><br />As we were leaving and proceeding through a wooded area to the 8th hole, a lovely Blue Jay landed on the ground in front of me. He paused for a moment, and then flew up into the trees joining another two or three jays high up in the trees. I felt Dad's presence instantly, and realized that he had helped Josh make that last shot. I felt sad and deeply missing him at that moment. The cruel reality that his life had been cut so short by a disease that wracked his body and deprived him of a full life is something that I have never been able to accept.<br /><br />The incident demonstrated the glimmer that Dad was at peace and enjoying being able to interact with his grandsons in a way that he never could in the physical world. Still, it would be nice to be able to see him and hear his voice again...even just for a second.<br /><br />-Photo courtesy of my Flickr friend, <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ozoni11/508129630/">Michael</a>Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-63100791716240444092008-09-06T00:26:00.002-04:002008-09-06T00:35:50.538-04:00Just when you think you know someoneSo the other day I'm at lunch with a mutual friend I had with a recent ex. She split up with his best friend in what appeared to be a hasty and surprising move just a couple of months after they bought a brand new house together. My ex seemed to think it was a petty reaction on her part to his friend's occasional bouts of hot temper and impulsive nature. I could hear him rolling his eyes when he told me about it during a phone call he made to me one night to cancel our plans because he had to help his friend 'deal' with the situation.<br /><br />During our lunch conversation my friend asked me what happened to me and my ex. She told me that her boyfriend didn't like me and was very jealous of me, and she had wondered if he secretly had feelings for my ex. She found it interesting that my ex had broken up with me at the same time that everything went down with her and his friend.<br /><br />It was then that she gave me the shock of my life.<br /><br />All four of us had gone out for a nice dinner one evening, during which my ex's friend had a sudden and quite random temper tantrum over something so obscure that no one seemed to know why he was exploding in the first place. She explained to me that that was just a tiny taste of what she tolerated from him on a daily basis. They were seeing a counselor to help them with their relationship. It was required that they attend some of the sessions alone instead of as a couple. On a day when she was required to meet the counselor individually, he sat her down and looked her square in the eye. He told her that she needed to do exactly as he said and get out of the house immediately. He instructed her to get as far away from him as she could as soon as she could and as quietly as she could. He told her he wasn't joking. Her life was in danger.<br /><br />As if it wasn't surprising enough to learn that this man, who seemed nothing more than a lovable buffoon to me, was actually a ticking time bomb, she then tells me something even more terrible. We knew that she had a problem with him falling asleep in his kids' bed when he tucked them in, and felt it was very inappropriate. My ex and I just figured she didn't understand because she didn't have kids of her own. It's not uncommon for a parent to crash at the child's beside out of sheer exhaustion. She then told me that on one occasion she walked into his daughter's bedroom and found him on the bed with her, his daughter was playing with his genitals.<br /><br />"This is what we do when we're bored," was the explanation the daughter offered her.<br /><br />I am thanking the Universe, God, Buddha, Ganesh and whoever else is out there that my ex did me the favour of ending our relationship, and thus my connection with this sick freak. I just hope his kids get the help they are desperately going to need.Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-46792249090159590662008-08-24T12:28:00.003-04:002008-08-24T13:22:20.589-04:00It takes all kinds...Since becoming enlightened I have found a new level of appreciation and patience for my fellow man. However whenever I witness something happening to someone that upsets their life in such a way that it looks completely hopeless it will ever be turned around, I can't help but take on some of the emotional burden.<br /><br />Through many difficult life lessons and being fortunate enough to have an open mind to learn from them, I have come to realize that the happiness we have in life is not due to success or from external forces, but just the opposite. If we go through life thinking that we are victims of circumstance and that we have no control over our own happiness, then we are doomed to have nothing more than a life of thoughtless accidents.<br /><br />As grateful as I am that I don't fall into the above category, I still find myself slipping back into the human habit of getting caught up in the physical world once in awhile. I have to stop feeling as if it is my responsibility to 'fix' everyone so they can also realize for the first time what they are doing to themselves. But some people just aren't able to reach this level of awareness, and it isn't my job to change this. Instead I have to find a way to accept the fact that we are all different and that this is probably a good thing after all.Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-31173770033419071402008-08-16T19:34:00.003-04:002008-08-16T19:56:29.273-04:00Seven down...three to goBreaking news in my HR studies saga....<br /><br />With my exam written today I can officially put <span style="font-weight: bold;">Training & Development</span> behind me and focus fully on <span style="font-weight: bold;">Organizational Behaviour</span>, which I have been studying simultaneously since early June, and for which I have another exam on September 13th. On September 10th, the Wednesday before I write the OB exam, I begin <span style="font-weight: bold;">Compensation Management</span>. That course is a semester course, as opposed to distance ed, and will be keeping me up very late on Wednesday nights from then until mid-December, when it ends. I'm hoping to enroll in <span style="font-weight: bold;">Occupational Health and Safety</span> in November as another monthly intake course, so that I can finish it up by February 2009. This will then leave me three full months to focus on preparing for the National Knowledge Exam (NKE) sitting in early May.<br /><br />Then I get my life back at last.<br /><br />You see, they have added <a href="http://www.hrpa.ca/HRPA/Certification/AboutCertification/Degree+Requirement.htm">another requirement to the CHRP criteria</a>...another hoop you have to jump through...if you want to get your designation. Effective January 2011 anyone who hasn't finished their coursework and passed their exams (the <a href="http://www.hrpa.ca/HRPA/Certification/Exams/">NKE and the National Professional Practice Assessment, or NPPA</a>, which I'll hopefully be taking in October 2009) will not be able to obtain their professional Human Resources designation, which in essence means putting the letters C-H-R-P beside your name, unless they have also obtained a post-secondary degree at a Baccalaureate level at a minimum.<br /><br />Personally I don't see how Jane Doe, CHRP, B.A. is going to be a better Human Resources Generalist that John Smith, CHRP, but what the hell do I know?Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-29570576420447307722008-07-18T23:30:00.003-04:002008-07-19T02:51:12.160-04:00The Skeleton KeyOnce upon a time there were a husband and wife named Justify and Cecile. They lived in a plantation home in New Iberia, Louisiana about an hour outside of New Orleans. They were the devoted slaves to the homeowners, who had two young children - a son and a daughter.<br /><br />Unknown to their master and mistress, Justify and Cecile were practitioners of hoodoo - a form of black magic that makes voodoo look like hopscotch. Justify was a very powerful conjurer, and together with Cecile they created a spell that would make them immortal. The catch was, someone had to be sacrificed for the spell to work.<br /><br />One day, the owners of the plantation had a big party. There was plenty of booze and things got a little carried away. As the guests were leaving they wanted to say goodbye to the children. When they went to see them, they couldn't be found. The guests searched the house high and low, and then finally found the children in the attic with Justify and Cecile. They were in the middle of a sacrificial ceremony with Justify deeply entranced and convulsing, and the children in the middle of a chalk circle surrounded by lit candles. The parents went ballistic. They trusted their slaves and were enraged that they would harass their children in this way. Justify and Cecile claimed they were just teaching the children how to protect themselves from black magic., but the parents and party guests weren't convinced. They formed a lynch mob and strung Justify and Cecile in the Spanish moss-draped oak tree in the front yard where they hung by the necks until they died.<br /><br />But what nobody knew was that in order for the black magic spell of mortality to work, Justify and Cecile's souls would have to enter new bodies, or in other words, they would have to 'switch bodies' with those they were offering up for sacrifice. Just seconds before the mob of angry party guests seized the slave couple in the attic, they had already made the switch, and the unlucky hanging victims were actually the children in Justify and Cecile's bodies.<br /><br />Fast forward fifty years. Justify and Cecile, known to everyone as the children of the plantation owners, have aged and must find new bodies to inhabit so they can continue to be immortal. They put the house up for sale, and before long the Devereaus came along. They purchased the house and were soon ensnared in the same hoodoo ritual. Justify and Cecile were now in fresh bodies, and the old couple's bodies housed the Devereaus souls, and were soon disposed of. When the Devereaus became old and the desire to change bodies once again presented itself, they were in need of new, young forms to take over.<br /><br />They hired a young estate lawyer to help them get their affairs in order. Then Justify and Cecilia hatched a plan that would ensure they were financially taken care of in their new forms. The Devereaus had a will that left the entire estate to one if the other died. Justify took hold of the young lawyer's body, and then he in his new form and Cecilia invoked a curse on Mr. Devereau to make him ill and appear as if he had had a stroke, and kept him ill by feeding him malicious potions under the guise they were medicine to help him. The new home care worker, Caroline, didn't know any better at first, but soon realized something was fishy when Mr. Devereau surprised her by grabbing her wrist tightly and staring her down with a frightened glare. He was supposed to be in a catatonic state and unaware of his surroundings.<br /><br />Confused yet? Well you'll just have to see the movie to see how it all ends. And now that I've managed to unravel the tangled web of a plot line, I'm going to bed!Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-19460046556110542282008-07-16T22:31:00.002-04:002008-07-16T22:52:35.603-04:00The medium is the messageSometimes I seriously wonder what the Universe is trying to communicate to me. I have had a couple of experiences recently that have made me sit up and take notice, and I'm still wrestling with the meaning behind them...<br /><br />Yesterday I was out canvassing, and as I drove by a customer location I had visited previously, a health club, I noticed the owner pulling into the parking lot. I had missed him earlier in the week when I stopped by, and made a mental note that he was now at work so I could swing by after running the errand I was on my way to do.<br /><br />My thoughts then took me back to the time I was a member at this particular health club, and how I had canceled my membership because there was a creepy old man who would come to hang out at the gym just to ogle the women in their leotards. It really bothered me how he would sit at the pec dec, do two or three reps, and then just stop and look around him, mentally undressing us all with his eyes. He would boldly continue to stare at you even after you noticed him doing so. It was very unnerving. One day as I passed him on the stairs on the way up to the cardio area I caught him staring me down. I stared right back at him and snapped "Can I help you???" I had told the girl at the front desk about him and lodged an official complaint, and then quit the club shortly thereafter.<br /><br />I returned to the club and met with the owner, and we made plans to sit down and have a discussion about his staffing needs. After I left the gym I went back on my route, which at the time was southeast Oshawa. As I sat in traffic on King St. waiting for a light to change on the way to my next call, I glanced over at the car sitting next to me. <span style="font-style: italic;">I'll be damned if it wasn't that creepy old man from the gym!!!</span> He was looking all neat and tidy and was undoubtedly on his way to work, and was for once not staring at me, but instead focused on the traffic in front of him.<br /><br />It's not like I live in a small town where you run into everyone all the time. What could be the meaning behind this strange encounter?<br /><br />Then this evening I was speaking to my father in New Jersey, who is trying to coordinate a trip for the boys and I to come and see him. He proposed some dates, and I told him I would have to check the calendar at work to see if anyone had already booked those days off, as we can't have more than one person away from the office at a time. He asked me if I would please get back to him asap, as the fares will be going up tomorrow and he'd like to book them when they're low. I told him I would be arriving very early in the office tomorrow and would call him first thing to advise, which would be around 8:00am. He told me that he is staying up very late these days writing, and requested that I not call him before<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 11:00am</span>. I assured him I would not.<br /><br />As I hung up the phone, I glanced at the display screen on my handset, which automatically records the time of each call in minutes and seconds. The time it recorded for this call we just had was 11 minutes and 11 seconds! This message came through loud and clear: I have to remember to delay my morning call as requested!Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-86529235394147009232008-03-30T14:11:00.002-04:002008-03-30T14:18:33.287-04:00So another weekend has come and gone. Now I'm just chilling out and getting ready for the busy week ahead.<br /><br />I have been told I am to stay on until the end of April, and beyond that...who knows? I have to stop expecting so much from people and life in general. I actually started feeling disappointed when the manager told me that the person I'm replacing would eventually be reclaiming the job instead of being given a job in another department. Why would I do that to myself? I know I am kicking ass and taking names at this job, and cleaning up a lot of her mess, but why would I ever convince myself that they would recognize I am better at the role than she is and decide to give the job to me? I must be absolutely insane. To expect a large global company such as this to have loyalty to me like I have to them is an exercise in exasperation.<br /><br />I am trying a new recipe today that I'm excited about. It's salmon grilled with fresh rosemary and garlic, and I can't wait to taste it!Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-21468886939808689162008-03-23T11:44:00.003-04:002008-03-23T12:00:18.255-04:00These Dreams, Vol. 2This one is taken from a journal entry dated 21 September 2005, just a couple of weeks after my Dad passed away...<br /><br /><blockquote>I was in the mall at lunch (?) shopping. I wanted to find a pair of pants, so I was on my way to the store that I thought would have them when I saw (my cousin) Brian and his wife. He dyed his hair blond. It was odd they were still in town (after the funeral). I told myself I'd look for them on my way back (from getting my pants). Didn't find the pants because I never made it to the store. Some guy was trying to get me to listen to his spiel about changing your name after getting married. I then went to find Brian again, but couldn't. I ended up at the food court. I was looking at my blog somehow on a microfiche-type screen and talking to my mother on the phone (?). I...kept seeing people resembling Dad around me. They were dressed in white and they would come one at a time. They would smile at me - and I took it to be a sign from Dad. Then I was driving with Dad (?) and had to stop to empty a spray bottle on Eric's (my biological father) lawn. He wasn't happy, so I wrote a note on his poodle, but removed it (before he could see it)....</blockquote>What I notice in many of the dreams I have had is that I'm always on a mission to do something, but for some unknown reason it never gets done. I have heard from experts that it is the seemingly insignificant parts of the dream that should get the most attention, as they often hold the strongest message.Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-35627380724708678972008-03-22T19:04:00.003-04:002008-03-22T19:16:45.241-04:00These Dreams, Vol. 1Taken from my journal dated 6 June 2004, the year before my kids went to live with their father:<br /><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote>I want to remember this dream I just had: I was with Scott (my ex-husband), but as Josh (my eldest son). Staying over at his house one night (it was all at nighttime - very dark and hard to see), I had a nightmare. I was trying to wake myself up from it, and I couldn't. I had opened my eyes in the dream, and all I could see was red flashing lights that reminded me of scary eyes, and dark, macabre shadows. My struggle to wake up was in vain, so I began kicking and thrashing about in the dream and screaming "Dad! Dad!" until my hoarse, boy-like voice was swallowed up in the dream state where you try to scream, but can't. Soon I could vaguely make out Scott's figure and presence appearing intertwined with the liquid blackness of my nightmare. He knew that I wasn't really Josh, yet he was there by my side, holding my hand, with the doubt and reserve that he has in any instance that involves me, yet despite his feelings about me he still came. He stayed with me as I awoke, and assisted me as I struggled to keep the demons away. I asked him to please not leave because I was still seeing scary images even though I was now out of bed. I remember grabbing at him imploring him to stay because I was still struggling with the nightmare. I seem to remember him telling me it was OK. We both knew I wasn't really Josh (sleeping on the bottom bunk), but the fact that he was there for me in spite of it made a significant impression, which led to me writing them down so I wouldn't forget it.<blockquote></blockquote></blockquote>Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-48381141504657559482008-03-21T12:38:00.003-04:002008-03-21T13:17:26.324-04:00It's a Good FridayAh, nothing like a long weekend to rejuvenate the soul and refresh the spirit! Today I am doing nothing much at all (my favourite weekend activity), including NOT observing the holiday other than to have a hot cross bun for breakfast and fish for dinner (I'm being invited for fish & chips with family tonight, and it would behoove me not to accept an offer to be fed).<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Note to self: Add the fact that I am a "former Roman Catholic cult member who has since seen the light" to profile.</span><br /><br />Another thing I am <span style="font-weight: bold;">not </span>doing this weekend is even <span style="font-style: italic;">thinking </span>about work. At least that was the plan until I got an invite to go out on a date from a customer with whom I am working very closely. I was blown away....never saw it coming! A very nice guy, but I obviously wouldn't be available for a Saturday date on this short notice anyhow. Besides...I get a little queasy at the thought of dating someone at work. I just don't see how it can be done without affecting the professional relationship, and I'm sure my employer would frown on it. So I politely declined.<br /><br />And speaking of the job, I am hoping to get some direction over the next week or so as to where things are going. That is, whether or not I will be kept on in this role (I'm currently replacing someone on medical leave), or if I'll be finishing up at the end of the month. Right now I'm going month to month, which makes planning for the future a bit impossible.<br /><br />A book I am probably going to buy this weekend is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Secret-Rhonda-Byrne/dp/1582701709">The Secret</a>. I find the concepts within it fascinating and exciting, but ridiculously simple...so simple actually that it's no wonder we would miss it as the human race seems to have evolved to the point of not being able to see the forest for the trees.<br /><br />Happy Easter, for those of you who, unlike me, are observing!Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-81497867374458660242008-01-13T22:37:00.000-05:002008-01-13T22:40:57.831-05:00Giving thanksToday I am grateful for...<br /><br />...a lovely visit with an old, dear friend<br />...my son playing happily by himself instead of fighting with his brother<br />...being given $20 to put gas in my car<br />...a clean bathroom<br />...my cough improving - albeit slightly<br />...being done with Managerial Accounting FOREVER<br />...the future looking bright and exciting<br />...being single - I'd forgotten how blissful it can be!Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-46724571852093223322007-08-19T13:15:00.000-04:002007-08-19T13:43:58.779-04:00Take this job and ... you know...I am a disgruntled employee.<br /><br />Over the last several months I have grown weary of my current job, and found it has been a significant contributor to my present depressive state. This has caused me to try and figure out what exactly it is about my job that makes me so miserable.<br /><br />So I started examining my frustration levels at work and paying close attention to what would be occurring at the time these levels would peak. What I found was primarily that I have grown to vehemently despise the people that I am forced to work with on a daily basis. Now I am not talking about my coworkers, but rather the people that we are hiring as temps to send out on our assignments. To put it bluntly, they suck.<br /><br />I would normally never hire a single one of the people who come into our office. However considering that the jobs we are placing people on aren't usually rocket science, and any idiot could do them, this is why we cannot turn these people away. We have no choice but to recruit and hire these people, and hope to gawd that they will actually show up for work and stay there until the assignment ends. Quite often, they don't.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8PyByLZ4MFIKh0Fe0iUakmDSdTl0uTjLk7JoMZtpEPCU9RsVroWRQQT_sI6Sf9fzFx2ksPYWl1DQreEE3GxuHEpirP81Usm3i3Ha7Iy6WL69Jmej-id7ry5ukeCx2fvNvEo2/s1600-h/MyJobSux.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8PyByLZ4MFIKh0Fe0iUakmDSdTl0uTjLk7JoMZtpEPCU9RsVroWRQQT_sI6Sf9fzFx2ksPYWl1DQreEE3GxuHEpirP81Usm3i3Ha7Iy6WL69Jmej-id7ry5ukeCx2fvNvEo2/s320/MyJobSux.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100462281512063042" border="0" /></a><br />So guess who has to track down and counsel these losers on a daily basis, then spend more time having to send in another loser to replace them, all the while making a little sign of the cross in hopes that this next clown won't go and do exactly the same thing. When you are speaking to the errant temps who have taken off for the day without telling anyone and try to educate them in the fine art of Work Ethic, they talk to you with disrespect and arrogance, often using foul language, if you can even get them on the phone at all. Often you never hear from them again, until the next time they are really stuck for work and come crawling back. I enjoy turning them away when this happens.<br /><br />I honestly don't know how anyone could actually enjoy this type of work. However my younger colleague, who is much more patient and tolerant of delinquent behaviour than I am, seems to find the job isn't too bad. Either that, or she just doesn't let it show how absolutely at her wit's end she is.<br /><br />Well I have tried on three occasions to find alternate employment within this company, as I prefer to be loyal to my employer rather than just jumping ship, which most people would do. I have yet to be accepted for another position, either because someone else was more successful, or the position that I had applied for turned out to not be the job I thought it was. This third position that I have put my name down for is a one-year contract, and is going to be further away, so I will have to commute 45 minutes to work each day. Otherwise it is much more along the lines of what I want to do. I advised the manager as to my salary requirements, which is well within the pay band for the position. I had to factor in the cost it would be at least $5000 for the year just in gas alone. My current manager, who is involved in the process of moving me, tells me that this is going to be tricky to negotiate due to the fact that the company will not routinely give wage increases of more than a certain amount, which the gas costs alone will exceed.<br /><br />I won't find out until the last week of August whether or not I will be successful in obtaining the job for the wage I require. If I don't, I guess I have some tough decisions to make.Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-25205668907052971062007-08-17T20:47:00.000-04:002007-08-17T21:25:18.436-04:00GratitudeWell with my finances and career still looking pretty bleak, and depression now setting in, I think it's high time I injected some gratitude into the forefront of my mind before I lose it altogether.<br /><br />Today I am grateful for these things:<br /><br />-A short workday and a quiet afternoon at home<br />-My stepfather finding a table for the huge TV that was taking over my living room<br />-The realization that I was more a part of my friends' lives than I thought I was<br />-My good health and the good health of those I love dearly<br />-My old school friends being back in my life<br />-A wonderful man who loves me and treats me like a queen<br />-A brief rain shower that perked up my garden a littleBizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-87219728725446220532007-08-04T13:01:00.000-04:002007-08-04T13:05:11.293-04:00Summer camp utopiaMy sons recently did a week-long summer camp that was based loosely on the movie 'School of Rock'. They learned all about how to assemble a rock band, how to put on a concert and have good stage presence. Of course there was a lot of 'jamming' and learning how to perfect their music skills as well.<br /><br />At the end of the week the kids put on a concert to highlight what they've learned. Here is a snippet of the show, featuring of course my brilliant children!!!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f9vWI1TrqrM"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f9vWI1TrqrM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br />Awesome stuff, no?Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-32981341463896210622007-07-25T23:25:00.000-04:002007-07-26T00:06:16.584-04:00Job blissToday I was going through some responses to a job ad I had posted on Workopolis for a <a href="http://www.bestjobsca.com/bt-jobd-deuce12-21444.htm">Human Resources Representative</a> in the GTA. A young woman barely out of college had applied with a note that she would require a wage of $45K to start along with three weeks' vacation.<br /><br />I drew my colleagues' attention to the response, and subsequently the office erupted in sarcastic laughter.<br /><br />I love how high <a href="http://www.thestar.com/article/223382">Gen Y's</a> expectations are with regard to their employment. Perhaps it's because I'm from a different generation where we were happy just to get a job that was even remotely in line with what we wanted to do and the amount of money we wanted to earn. Maybe it's just because I'm insanely bitter at the lack of meaningful <a href="http://www.greatertoronto.org/investing_reg_02.htm">employment here in Durham region</a>, or perhaps I need to raise my own expectations a bit, as I am selling myself short. Heck I've been in this field for eight years and even I'm not making $45K per year!!!<br /><br />Well after the gales of laughter subsided, the girls and I decided to do a little daydreaming of our own, and we came up with the Ideal Job:<br /><br />* A starting salary of $60K plus five weeks' vacation and 20 sick days per year that either carry over to the following year if unused, or are paid back to us<br />* Full benefits whenever we need them with the cost being borne by the employer<br />* A corner office with a fantastic view, a stocked bar and barista<br />* A hot, young male assistant to do our bidding<br />* A paid gym membership<br />* Unlimited lunch break<br />* Access to the company jet whenever we like<br />* A guaranteed indefinite contract term<br />* Corporate discounts on spa visits, clothing and electronics purchases<br />* Required attendance at the quarterly company meetings in Las Vegas, Tahiti, or Hawaii where we do nothing but look at some reports and just schmooze<br />* Full autonomy in our roles (whatever they may be...really with all this, who cares what we're doing???)<br /><br />Sighhh....that was FUN.Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-26681911385725868292007-07-18T23:27:00.000-04:002007-07-18T23:46:37.296-04:00Summer sabbaticalSome video I took of our trip in Ber's Cessna to the Poconos last weekend.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LxPU6uSsWc4"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LxPU6uSsWc4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br />Why are all of my vacations so ridiculously short?Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-18323344778331001272007-07-10T23:17:00.001-04:002007-07-10T23:49:27.830-04:00How To Engage Your Workforce<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/roberdan/64881596/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/27/64881596_3f5df63645_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" > <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/roberdan/64881596/">Teamwork</a><br />Photo courtesy of <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/roberdan/">Roberdan</a>. </span></div>Have you ever wondered why some companies (like mine, for example) struggle constantly with chronic turnover and low productivity, while others soar to the Top 50 Employers lists?<br /><br />It really isn't a mystery. The answer lies, for the most part, in the satisfaction of the employees, and how much they feel they are valued by their employer.<br /><br />Recently I read an article that came across my desk at work outlining how managers can more effectively engage their staff to be not only more of a team, but to feel more connected to the company for which they work. They called the following the six main influencers of engagement:<br /><br />1. Employees must view their jobs as important, or vital to the success of the company.<br /><br />2. Employees must be clear on what is expected of them, and how they will know they are being successful in their roles.<br /><br />3. Job improvement, such as career advancement or additional responsibilities or interesting tasks must be available.<br /><br />4. Regular and meaningful feedback should be administered.<br /><br />5. Relationships among coworkers must be healthy and productive.<br /><br />6. Employees must fit in with the company's culture and values.<br /><br />Last year, my company announced at a large, area-wide convention that one-third of our current workforce was made up of employees hired within the previous year. They acted like this was a good thing, bragging that they must be doing something right, as they were able to attract so many talented people to their company. It was obvious to me that they completely missed the point: why did they have to hire so many new people when they could very likely have salvaged a good number of existing staff, thereby saving the company thousands and thousands of dollars in sourcing, recruiting, selecting, hiring and training roughly 100 new FTEs?<br /><br />The ironic thing is that all of the corporate division's focus these days on the millions of dollars of lost sales we apparently had over the past few months. The president has insisted all hands on deck, forcing us to slash all the time spent on employee training and other non-income-producing activities, as well as putting a freeze on company perks (we weren't given any bonuses or funding for holiday parties this past Christmas). Yet the fact that people keep resigning in droves and are having to be replaced, which is costing the company an insane amount of money, especially since the replacements are being made in haste, and thus aren't the most suitable candidates, is being ignored.<br /><br />The answers are unbelievably simple. What I find 'puzzling' is why the people with the six-figure salaries don't get it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-Photo courtesy of <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/roberdan/">roberdan</a></div>Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-64089523373664763922007-06-28T23:13:00.001-04:002007-06-28T23:15:33.124-04:00Incommunicado<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bizzygirl/654346097/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1336/654346097_64811e6497_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" > <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bizzygirl/654346097/">Egads!</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/bizzygirl/">Bizzy Girl</a>. </span></div>Well thanks to the natives at the Tyendinaga reserve in Belleville, my train for tomorrow was cancelled, and not only do I not have the ability to call home that often (hotels shamelessly johnny-hole you with their long distance fees), my cellphone is almost dead as I don't have a charger for it.<br /><br />So, tonight I spent some time on Messenger with my kids. I was horrified when my youngest logged on and I saw his <a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1336/654346097_b8af0f0c40_o.jpg">tagline</a>. It read "50 cent ruls at raping". After I recovered from the shock I realized what he was trying to say, and I quickly IM'd him to tell him to change it...pronto.<br /><br />So as it stands now I have exchanged my train ticket with a seat on Saturday's train, and was lucky enough to get the room for an extra night if I need it. Tomorrow I'll call head office and see if they would be able to get me a flight out of here tomorrow afternoon sometime so I can get up to Keswick to pick up Tyssie for our weekend together.<br /><br />And as far as the natives are concerned, they are putting me out and causing an inconvenience, but I figure we kind of came in and took over their land a couple of centuries ago, so it's hard finding justification to complain!Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19983336.post-84137919591939623302007-06-27T21:06:00.001-04:002007-06-28T20:11:58.342-04:00Kitties of Parliament Hill<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bizzygirl/642205801/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1168/642205801_c26d1f8ed0_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" > <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bizzygirl/642205801/">Kitties of Parliament Hill</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/bizzygirl/">Bizzy Girl</a>. </span></div>While in Ottawa this week on business I ventured up to the top of the city to my favourite place: Parliament Hill.<br /><br />I'm not sure what I find so fascinating about this site. Is it the image of Pierre Trudeau, one of my personal heroes, sprinting up the steps of Parliament in his brown sandals on his way to work in the morning? Or the whispers of many, many notable politicians and other historic figures that echo through the grounds to this day, and are immortalized in bronze around the perimeter of the property?<br /><br />Perhaps.<br /><br />But I think my favourite reason for visiting this awesome spectacle in our nation's capital is the Cat Sanctuary.<br /><br />For a number of years selfless volunteers have been looking after a clan of kitties that found recluse in a shady enclave at the west side of the property after they were retired from their official mousing duties.<br /><br />They have had them all spayed/neutered and inoculated against common kitty parasites, and keep them well-fed and watered. They constructed what looks like a cat townhouse complex complete with straw-lined floors for them to cozy up in during the winter and bouts of inclement weather.<br /><br />There is a coin box at the gate to the sanctuary for anyone who wants to make a donation. It costs the volunteers approximately $6000 per year out of their own pockets to maintain it. To view the official 'Cats of Parliament Hill' blog, go <a href="http://www.synapse.net/kgerken/CatsBlog.HTM">here</a>.<br /><br />If you are not in the Ottawa area and would like to make a donation, you can mail a personal cheque to the attention of Rene Chartrand, Apt. 1207, 160 Charlotte St., Ottawa, K1N 8Z5.<br /><br />The kitties say 'Thanks'!Bizzy Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12743033156956032169noreply@blogger.com1