no one of consequence.

Dsafire.net is now OpenID compatable. Go Forth and test drive it for me.

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I just stumbled onto this website. Apparently Winblows is “reserving” your bandwith for itself. I had no idea.

This explains where the setting is hiding and how to shut it down.

Bloody little buggers. My bandwith is *mine*.

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I haz a health card. Im totally legit now. It even has a decent picture.

However, im also a real Ontarian, since I also dont have a PCP. Anyone local got specific recommendations? I need names, preferably in this end of town. Because lemetellya, traveling an hour across town by public transportation when one is really sick, SUCKS. I’ll do it for a dentist or a gyno, but I prefer having my PCP close, due to my propensity for dizzy spells and the trick knee. Two great tastes that go great together…

I’d reconsider Lee’s MD, if only to get my BP meds back in order, but Loveless, (aside from being a world class putz based on what ive seen of his brand of care), isnt accepting new patients.

Theres an MD over at Wilson Medical center, a Dr. Okorie who seems to have good ratings on RateMDs.com. Hamiltondoctors.ca lists her as accepting new patients. I should call over there on Monday.

This slim selection of docs just astounds me on a certain level. Im used to being handed a *phone book* with a new insurance card. The sucky part was that was all you got… nothing at all about the docs or their practices. Ontario however, has introduced me to the concept of “not accepting new patients”. Hopefully the province will start offering incentives of some kind for MDs to stay in the area. It’s just bizarre considering we have major medical training facilities in town.

Bonus of the timely card arrival is that Im ok to go get a flu shot, which they’re doing downtown at the library on Monday. If I remember. If I get my ass moving early enough.

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So today as most of you know was Thanksgiving in the States. Refusing to be cheated out of my late November nomfest, I made a full dinner. Canadian T-day was a whole month ago, and besides, I didnt get a turkey dinner then, Lee had been kidnapped to the cottage up north.

Sassy_Fae and Etherlad joined us for dinner, in part because the Fae had in the past mentioned wanting to see how it’s done, and in part because we hadnt seen them in far too long. Dave from upstairs joined us for a while, but I didnt invite him to stay, partially because of the severe lack of eating space in our apartment. Much chattering and feed and playtime with the thoroughly overfed and currently exhausted cat.

Turkey was nummy, and worth the crazy. Y’all know Ive been ranting about my seasoning crap. I apologise now. Because I managed to actually replicate it, with only one batch being pitched. (Powdered ginger is some powerful stuff.) See, most of the flavor in the stuffing I use comes from that powder, i’ve never before gotten it right without it.

Tonight’s stuffing was the comfort food I crave… the smell, the flavors taking me back to Grandfa’s kitchen in November (one of the few days he reigned supreme). Every time I do a turkey I hear his voice telling me to do it “till it looks like this, tastes like that, feels just SO…” Today that feeling was stronger than usual as I showed the Fae and Dave how to “do it like this, then do this like so…”

It’s a happy memory, of being helpful, of being a part of things. I was proud when I got it just right. It’s still important to get it just right. It’s just one of those things I’ll never be happy about unless I do get it just right.

So the cooking happens.

(more…)

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Hubris is toasting your entire internet suite by deciding that you’re smart enough to edit a .js file you have no business mucking about with.

Now I get to rebuild my entire email library file by file instead of playing WoW or practicing guitar.

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Crap, crap, crap, Gristedes.com *wont* cross border on their regular online storefront page. Neither will Yankeegrocer, or anyone else ive found. If I could drive I’d go to Niagra and get it my damn self.

Now I HAVE to get someone to send Bell’s to me. And my mom (Yes, Mom, I know you’re reading, consider this me throwing down the gauntlet.) is USELESS for sending me stuff.

So I guess Im going to have to give up my poultry stuffing unless someone helps me out here, because it just doesnt work otherwise. Rice stuffings or *shudder* fruity things. It sounds stupid, I know, but this is a big deal to me.

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Hrmm. *checks last post* Ok, so that job interview didnt happen. Turns out they wanted 12 hour shifts. *shudder* Im too old to put up with being bitched at for twelve hours a day. Also, bad depressive episode. Fun fun. So lots of movies and vegetating on the sofa waiting for my brain to re-engage.

Finally starting to feel on track again. Today we finally hung the guitar rack Lee mostly built and I mostly designed. Why today? Because I was trying to vacuum today and moving the damn floor racks yet again did not appeal. We didnt finish it the way we intended, and it’s just raw pine. But it doesnt look bad at all, it gets the guitars away from the heater, and steals back a bit of floorspace.

Of course we have ended up with more guitars than we had planned for, since Lee’s partner G cant be trusted to not sell his guitars to buy new guitars. (I dont think he really has anywhere to keep them at the moment, which is why the mando joined us.) So they live here, and mine still hangs from a screw at the other end of the sofa, and the big bad heavy bass still has to live in the bedroom.

Also, today I made three bean soup again, and to go with it I made an attempt at sodabread. Im not terribly thrilled with how it worked out, but then I didnt have real buttermilk, and evil me swapped white bread flour for whole wheat. Tastes right if mild, but the texture was chewier rather than crumbly and the crust is some serious crunchy. I’ve bagged it with a damp cloth to see if i can mellow it. Looks purdy though:

So I feel like something was accomplished, despite everything. Little things like that always help rebalance my brainmeats.

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Just got a call to interview Tuesday for a gig in the circulation dept at the Hamilton Spectator. Any locals know how they run their shop/treat their employees?

Definitely qualifies as a “real job”, as opposed to working for a small business or family run establishment, which experience has led me to classify as “bullshit jobs”.

Of course it all comes down to company policies and the interpretation of them by one’s immediate supervisor. But still, much better than living at the whim of a successful small business owner who possibly has a Napoleon complex or has decided he’s the local fascist dictator.

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Yanno, crazy as he sounds, he’s right.

Talk about getting noticed, about making contacts, about a foot in the door, but the arts really are pretty much the only industry where you’re fully expected to fuck yourself over. Almost *required* infact.

I wonder what would happen if every writer, every musician and actor in the world stood up and said, “Fuck you, you want my work, you pay me for it”.

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How sad is it that after about twenty resumes and web-apps being sent out, the only call I get is from some damn dinky real estate office across town. Part time even.

Ug ug ug.

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