Happy Anniversary, Emily Pound!

I'm doing this a couple of days early, because I'll be away on Saturday, when it is the official anniversary of my blog. I want to commemorate the anniversary of this blog. It has seen me through a lot of changes.

I don't know what I expected when I started writing this thing. I guess I was hoping I'd get a ton of readers and lots of comments, like I see on other blogs. It doesn't seem that my blog has caught on to that kind of readership. Or maybe the people who read me don't have much to say about my posts. I don't know. But that's okay. I truly enjoy the comments of my regular readers, the 3 or 4 of them -- you know who you are. I appreciate your visits, and I appreciate your insights. Even those of you out there who do drop by, but don't comment, I appreciate you too. You are reading my words, and that is so important to any writer.

I remember many years ago, I bought a membership to a magazine where a bunch of us writers sent in our short stories and different kinds of writing. With a paid membership, you were guaranteed to get published, and there was such a feeling of accomplishment and pride whenever I saw something I had written in print there. We had our stable of regulars too, and people would regularly write in and comment on the various stories, and I remember what a thrill I felt whenever I saw one of my writings cited and commented on. Then seeing my actual story, or article, or poem, with my name underneath it. It was an incredible feeling. That magazine was my life back then. It was a monthly, and the time that passed between issues seemed like dead time ... the only time I came alive was when the new issue arrived in the mail. Then, I would spend the next two or three days with it, savouring it, reading it as slowly as possible, trying to make it last. It never lasted long enough.

I guess this blog is kind of like that, only different. :-) I guess I'm old-fashioned and seeing my work on a computer screen isn't the same as seeing it on paper, in 3-D, being able to touch it. And I guess I've grown old enough that other people's opinions, while always interesting, are not life and death for me anymore. They are just opinions. But I admit I check in to my blog often to see if anyone has left a comment, much like I used to check the Letters section in that magazine for any comments on my work. Writing is a lonely business. It's a very fulfilling, exciting endeavour, as long as you are content to live mainly in your imagination, which not many people are. I have found that I have grown tired of it, and am looking for the excitement and emotional fulfillment in reality now, rather than just concocting it in my imagination.

Yes, this blog has truly seen me grow and change. It truly is an anniversary. The anniversary of Emily Pound, The New Me, My New Life.

I'm blowing out the candle and making a wish right now.

Oops

I was wrong. I was checking email this morning and my MSN news thing came on, and I saw a headline about JonBenet Ramsay, about them arresting someone 10 years after her murder. I couldn't believe it. I thought: a) the parents definitely did it or had something to do with it, or b) the case would never be solved. Of course, technically, the guy is innocent until proven guilty, but I don't think they would have arrested the guy after all this time without having a lot of evidence to back it up. Plus, I read that the guy admitted killing her and said it was an "accident". Even said he was really, really sorry. (Like that helps? I guess his confession and remorse will be a factor when it comes to sentencing him.)

Whenever I saw those parents on t.v., I never believed them. They just looked so slick and perfect. I thought for sure the father had killed her accidentally after some rough sexplay, and the mother was either in unbelievable denial about it, or maybe even went along with the sexual hijinks and helped him cover it up. I guess it just goes to show you how easy it can be to convict an innocent person or people, all on appearances, or how you think a person should act after a crime has been committed.

The parents hiring the P.R. firm, the t.v. interviews and appearances ... it just didn't seem to be something I could picture myself doing in that situation. Of course, they were rich, and had the money to hire very good attornies, and were smart enough to follow their attornies' advice.

How tragic it is that JonBenet's mother, Patsy Ramsay, died before they arrested this guy. She went to her grave with most of the world probably thinking she had been involved in one of the most sensationalized, infamous criminal cases in U.S. history. Of course, who gives a shit what people think, she might have thought from time to time, but maybe it tormented her and drove her to an early death. I guess we'll never know.

Biker Grandma

There is a woman at my workplace who I swear is a biker grandma. She is actually one of the proofreaders who is training me, and I find her rather intimidating. She has been doing the job for 17 years (I think she said) and she is one of these know-it-all types who corrects you a million times because "this is the way I've always done it", and by God, you know I won't question it, because to tell you the truth, this woman scares me.

Even though I am 41 years old, I am still a little mystified and frightened of authority figures, and even though this woman technically isn't my boss, or technically even my supervisor (at least, not that I've been told), there is no question that she is my boss and that is supervising me. Nuh uh.

The other woman I'm working with is the complete opposite, very sunny and cheerful, plump, short blonde hair, high lilting voice. This other woman -- who I have come to think of as the biker grandma -- has a voice deep as a well, from what I speculate may be years of sucking on bottles of Jack Daniels and beer, and the raspiness of a chain smoker. She has curly, grey hair, very unkempt (it doesn't even look like she combs it) just past her shoulders, and her face is as worn out and tired as the rest of her seems to be. About twenty times a day she lets out a succession of really bad hacking coughs, and she sounds like she's only minutes away from being put on a respirator. But she is a tough old cookie. A crusty old broad. I can so see her standing holding a grandchild, in the midst of leather-clad bikers, cuffing her biker son on his tattooed arm for some infraction.

So these are my co-workers, my co-cubicle mates: Suzy Q and Motorcycle Mama.

I'm not making fun of her, honest. If she knew I was writing this she'd probably kick my ass. So let's just keep this between you and me, okay?

Split Personality

I have pretty schizoid eating habits. During the week, I'm usually very conscientious about what I eat. I make sure to eat lots of fruit and veggies, get my protein, go as low on the carbs as I can, and even exercise. But come the weekend, it's as if a different me takes over.

I have noticed that when I'm around my husband a lot, I tend to eat more. Not that I'm blaming him for my horrible eating habits, as they were around WAY before he ever entered the picture. But, I have definitely noticed that the more conflicted I feel, the more repressed, the more I am holding in my true feelings, I compensate by pigging out. I'll go for the ice cream, the potato chips, the pizza, and go to the Chinese Buffet place I love. I know it's psychological, especially since I usually eat things that are bad for me the MOST when I'm not even hungry. It's really sick, and I know it.

I've been to psychologists about this before -- granted, not on a very in-depth basis. I had a few sessions with one counsellor who talked with me about my eating habits and the reasons why I eat the way I do, and when I do it. It was somewhat insightful, but I never really felt comfortable with her, probably because she was such a skinny person. I have been thinking about going to someone again, to see if I can really get to the root of this. I can't imagine what my life would be like if I never had any issues with food. Maybe that's why I'm so reluctant to get to the meat (pardon the pun) of it. If I didn't have such a preoccupation with food, such an obsession, love/hate with it ... if it wouldn't be the one constant project in my life ... then who would I be, I wonder?

What would I be doing, right now?

The New Job

I guess I feel settled enough now to write about my new "situation", as they used to say in Victorian England. The first couple of days at my new company, I felt rather depressed. I did not feel one trace of the excitement you would normally expect to feel in a new job. I just felt lost, and kind of numb. I think it was the combination of a lot of things, most noticeably the abysmal, devastating heatwave we have been having here. I think it's been over 90 degrees for 2 weeks straight ... and on top of that, having to take the subway, because there is no parking at my new building. The spots have all been taken, and I'm on a waiting list to get a spot. So, because of that, I resorted to the subway, and did I hate it. I guess driving has really spoiled me. I hated the TTC before, but now I just cannot tolerate it AT ALL. The mass of humanity, the delays, the way I feel like just another cattle on its way to the slaughterhouse ... nope, sorry. So, for the last couple of days I have been driving and parking at a nearby mall. It made a huge difference. I felt human again, and could concentrate on my new surroundings. So, onward ...

I am being trained by a very nice, cheerful woman. Everyone there is nice. My first day I must have shaken hands and been introduced to about twenty or thirty people. I'm in a room with the woman who is training me and one other woman, who is on vacation right now but will be back next week. It'll be the three of us in this room, and there are other proofreaders outside. It's nice and quiet, and my desk is in the back, so it's nice and private. The work is definitely not thrilling, but I have to say I am being called upon to use all my editorial skills, and that's something I didn't do in my last job. So, it is a bit of a challenge, and there certainly is a lot to learn and get accustomed to.

My main focus has been the people around me. This company seems to be a lot more easygoing and basic than my last one. I know I have only been there a few days, but already there seems to be a marked lessening of office politics. I sense a lot less in-fighting going on, and I hope that's the case. My manager is an extremely kind, gentle black man with a slight stutter. I noticed it in my interview and was a bit embarrassed, but I'm getting used to keeping my expression steady while he speaks. It's hard not to want to rush in and spare him, but I know that would not be the right thing to do. Anyway, he is extremely nice and has made sure that I feel comfortable. The funny thing is, there's another guy there who has a speech impediment. In my orientation on Monday, the Human Resources person told me they take human rights and discrimination very seriously, and it is one of their policies to hire minorities and so forth. That impressed me, and I guess it's obvious in the case of these two men with stutters. They hired them anyway, in spite of it. That's very human, and I like that.

This other guy's stutter is quite a bit worse, and he is another proofreader. I kind of have a crush on him already. He came in to see me and be introduced on Monday and I looked at him and I was like, Mmmmmm. I'm already having dirty thoughts about him. :-) But he is quite attractive to me. Who knows? He's very friendly, anyway. Maybe I can seduce him in his cubicle. :-)

On Tuesday, they had a barbecue for everyone in our department. I must have had about ten people come up to me and say, "You sure started working here at the right time! This doesn't happen every day!" They had a guy who has a show on the Food Network here in Canada -- his name is Bob Blumer -- come out and do the lunch. He showed us how he prepared the dishes we were having at the lunch, which included grilled asparagus (mmmm!), barbecued pizza with asparagus, caramelized onions, red pepper and brie topping (double mmmmm!), fennel salad (good), smashed potatoes (grilled baby potatoes with olive oil and garlic, oh yeah!) and for dessert, grilled bananas with honey and rum sauce and chocolate gelato (need I say more?). It was quite nice.

Anyway, so far my impressions are pretty good. Will I be there forever? Hard to say, but somehow I doubt it. I still have the wanderlust in me. I still regret passing up that other job. I still believe it was a better opportunity, but the hours sucked. I don't mean not to appreciate this job, because it certainly isn't bad, but it just doesn't feel ... like it's where I belong.

I really need to feel like I BELONG.