Drat this working for a living all to heck.

For the last few years I have seen the magazine ZOOMER on the newstands and resisted it. It was relentlessly aimed at me in my guise as faceless member of the money demographic. It had all the appeal of a juggernaut. I expected to be simpered at condescendingly. Two days ago I caved and bought a copy for two reasons: (a) it was way (waywaywaywayway) cheaper than the other magazines that interested me as in 6 bucks compared to 17 (!!!); and (b) it had Helen Mirren on the cover. Mirren was actually the reason for the purchase, and the price just sealed the deal. I haven't made it all the way through the magazine (refreshingly text rich) yet, and yes there are the expected "be all you can be while your wheels fall off" and "wrinkly is the new dewy" features, but I was favourably impressed to discover that it is Canadian focused. I still thought the name was kinda argh because I thought it was meant to be something like Zippy bOOMER, or something like that, which kinda makes me queasy.

Today my demographic twin in my vast pool of cousins forwarded me an email comparing the main five (really - all the pollsters and media count CPC, but not the Rhinocerous Party, which I think has a bigger percentage in any of the polls which include them) parties (in the Monday election in Canada) and their platforms as they pertain to seniors. This compare and contrast sheet was put together by CARP, which was formerly the Canadian Association of Retired Persons, until it was purchased by Moses Znaimer, and rebranded and aligned with ZOOMER.

So I did some googling[1], and discovered that ZOOMER is called ZOOMER because Moses Znaimer's last name starts with a Zed. Oh. Funny how I can kinda respect that sadly narcistic ego move more than I can repect the idea of making boomers a cutesy spunky demographic.

Anyhoo. I discovered that Znaimer has been a mover and shaker in Canada since forever, and he was the originator of MuchMusic - which is/was seriously a big deal in Canada. I was sorry when they stopped being all music all the time and sank to terrible sitcoms and reality shows, but hey.

So. Looking at the CARP website and the ZOOMER website, it is obvious that Znaimer sees this as a lucrative basis for selling our eyeballs to advertisers - oh surprise surprise. And I suspect that as long as it doesn't get too impertinent, I will be able to tolerate "wrinkles: a joyous sign of wisdom" articles in order to get Canadian content and sage celebrity sayings by people I have the faintest chance of having heard of (for a reasonable price).

However, I don't admire this make-a-buck move enough to, y'know, actually *subscribe* to anything.

[1] - sadly, I know that google is compromised, but my true stance in my heart of hearts is that you will only get my google away from me if you wrench it out of my cold dead hands.

I just read this article (click bait, actually, but still):
https://medium.com/weg-pub/count-interruptions-at-parties-for-science-392f09a2ac4f
recommending people to count at parties how often men interrupt women.

I don't need to do that because I live that everyday I spend in public.

However, I think this one is going to be difficult to break. We start training kids in this behaviour so early.

The next time you are at a family gathering, where there are rugrats running freely, check out what happens with the women in the kitchen. When a little girl comes in and wants to interrupt, she is told to wait her turn. When a little boy interrupts, every adult woman in the room stops what she is saying or listening to and turns to the child and listens until the child gets through their long disjointed no-punchline story. Many women will also stop peeling vegetables or washing dishes or whatever they are doing, and watch the child with an encouraging expression.

Even though I know about the men interrupting women thing, and I hate it, I have been guilty of the small-boy-gets-the-stage-and-the-microphone behaviour. At a family gathering this is as natural as breathing. Nobody does it with world dominance in mind. Everyone doing it has been conditioned in the same family cauldron.

So. It's not just that men need to stop interrupting women - but women need to stop stopping when a man begins to speak overtop of them.

Easier said than done, that.

Remember the shipping bolts ordered from Sears? I was glad they arrived. I was a little perturbed when the first thing I see is a standard form attached to the receipt, bigger than the receipt, achtunging that things cannot be returmed to Sears but must go back to the maker.

Yep - the bolts didn't fit.

The threads weren't even close.

If you or your pension plan is invested in Sears, get your money out now.

I am a person who keeps every tiny thing because it brings back a memory that I cherish. Yes, I hoard.

It is amazing how the lure of keeping things for sentimental reasons gets weaker and weaker as the moving day arrives.

FLAME THROWER!

*ahem*

I am not using a flame thrower, nor planning to use a flame thrower, but one can see how such an item could be used to advantage.

Argh.

Yes.

I sniveled about the Sears bolts - and they have arrived.

Which reminded me of Monday, when I texted someone that not only were we late, and then delayed, but that now we were at the stop, there were no buses. There hadn't been for ages, until I texted, whence came many buses.

Which reminiscence also reminded me of my favorite tactic for finding something in a store: I find a clerk, ask them, and the thing will be right beside them. I now go and find the clerk and look around - and yes: often the thing I want is there.

I think it is unfortunate that whining works, but it does, so I will.

I now remember why I don't drink ruby red grapefruit juice and gin. It tastes so good and harmless one has thrown one's caution to the winds before one even realizes one has stood up. So very more-ish, indeed. I would also like to caution you that the fact that one's troubles fall off like so many paperbacks off a cat is another feature requiring navigation.

Before I relinquish all elegance of phrasing, I would like to say: huzzah.

In the bad old days, unethical board members "helped themselves" to their employee's pension funds - as loans, of course - often draining them completely before the company tanked.

Can't happen now, you think? Oh boy.
http://www.greaterfool.ca/2017/04/27/conflicted/

If you are pre-retirement, you *must* put your own money away to work for you in retirement. Nothing is safe or sacred. Winning lawsuits after the fact won't actually get you your pension back.

As Detritus said: "Bad bad bad. Even worse."

Except that I go back tomorrow afternoon for the goodbye party.  Which isn't bad, but I know how much work there is to do, so going back there after people have had a chance to ransack my office and go argh - hmmm.

Okay.  So, my last day at work will be a week this coming Wednesday.  I'm not going to have everything ready to hand over, and I am also not ready to lose my identity as an employed person - especially employed by this employer.  People always say: Oooo - you work for Employer Name? - wow.  It makes a person feel good.  Oh well, eh?

Mom is in her week of seclusion in this second round of chemo.  The aches and pains lasted longer this time, and even though she is feeling better (as one does at this point in the process), she has a finite amount of energy which runs out before she is ready.

The hardest part of this whole process is the lack of information shared in advance.  We know that after the third cycle of chemo, Mom is going for radiation, and she will have to go to Kelowna (2 hour drive each way) for that.  But we don't know when that will start, how many sessions, how frequently the sessions, etc etc etc.  For people who plan for every contingency, this is way tooooo little information.  That "cross that bridge when we reach it" mantra sounds really good until you realize that if you'd known ahead of time that you were going to go in for radiation every week-day for a month, then you could have arranged some cheaper accommodation to save on driving back and forth.  Cheaper accommodation doesn't get arranged on a whim.

We still haven't seen a place we would like to buy.  We're getting to the point that if we pack any more we won't actually be able to function because (a) there won't be room left for a trail amongst the boxes, and (b) we will have packed all the things we need on a daily basis.  We are already living with some work-arounds because things are packed.

I am going to miss Vancouver because of the excellent (compared) transit, and because I can buy Murchies Teas, mochi rice pie/cake from TNT, beautiful parmesan & Italian pasta sold by the number from Ugo & Joe's, Army & Navy deals, and amazing fabrics and notions from Dressew.

Also, while it has reached very chilly-for-here lows, it has reached argh-levels of low temperatures there.  Poot.  I have all these beautiful brollies and no snow boots.  And my winter jacket is not gonna cut it.  Bum.

However, there is a faint chance that marijuana will be legalized before I die, so we can look forward to growing our own weed plant in our own garden.  Not a bad ambition.  :)

Aw.  Livejournal just lost my post with my carefully written heart-revealing bits.  I don't have the spoons to write it again.