down with democracy!!

I can't believe how hard the government makes everything. I just want to vote. I know I'm a foreigner from Québec in this province but I do deserve to vote. When have I ever needed to prove where I lived? I need proof now. "A hydro bill...something like that with your address on it."

Is it me or has that never been the case up until a few years ago? Apparently they even require that information when you ARE registered to vote. Is there some bandit stealing people's identities for the sole pupose of voting in their place? Why has the government made it more difficult? Is it just the inevitable stranglehold of beaurocracy befuddling the volunteer workers for Elections Canada or has there been a decision made at some meeting in some boardroom that this is somehow advanced security. In the information age should it be this goddamned difficult for me to vote? Why the fuck has Bill Gates or some other techno hotshot come up with some computer-programmy-thingy to faciiltate the process for all of us?


Obviously it won't be ME at the helm of any technological conferences anytime soon, but why shouldn't it be easier to vote if that's what democracy truly means?


Or is it in the government's best interest to keep us in the trance of the mundane, fill our bellies full of TV and commerce and fast food.

Little too Bolshevik for ya? Just wanna go back to smoking your joint in front of your 800th viewing of a Family Guy episode or is there maybe room for you in this country's voting public?

Even though they will make it hard, I am still going to register and vote. I know this time, I am voting strategically because I'm not a huge fan of the leader of the party. And no, it's not Stéphane Dion, but his awkardness will go down,unparraleled, in Canadian history.

And it goes without saying that someone who supports the CBC, the arts and working families will never vote for Stephen "Children of the Corn eyes" Harper.


SIGH.


I wish you'd hit the road Jack, but you are the only horse I would bet against Harper in this thing.

Play ball.

Strangers in the Night...

I am very conscious of how the weather affects me. When I heard "overcast and 12 degrees" this morning, I knew it would be a bummer of a day. I came in to work to find everyone in a similar mood. It's like a funeral in here today. But there are other reasons I feel out of sorts.

The new beau's homecoming last night from a weekend gig in Ottawa was an absolute disaster. He knew he would be late and said to leave the door open, which I did, so that he could crawl into bed with me at 3am. This was supposed to be romantic.

What ACTUALLY happened, was he crawled into bed in his skivvies to find that the goddamned cat I am taking care of (for some wayward musician studying in Australia) had taken a piss on the blow-up matress I sleep on and the pee had pooled in one of the plastic pockets like a cheap swimming pool raft. I hadn't noticed it because the pee pool didn't overflow to where I was sleeping. It just waited there, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting, like one of Robert Munsch's mud puddles. So when he sat down on the bed...wet ass.

Charming.

So cut to me, 3 am, in a black negligee mopping up cat pee and swearing that I'm going to skin the cat alive. Makes for a warm welcoming atmosphere when you've been staying awake on a Greyhound bus for four hours so you don't get beheaded, dontcha think?

I was so looking forward to him crawling in beside me I was beside MYSELF and now the night was ruined. More than anything, I was embarassed that I hadn't even noticed I was sleeping next to kitty pee. On top of it, he's a bit of OCD when it comes to things dirty, with particular attention to feet and washing one's hands after using the restroom. So I'm thinking, 'Great! He's never going to touch me again! Great! Just when I thought things could not be more perfect..."

Then I had to stop myself. If this story hadn't happened to me, would I maybe have found it funny? Shit, ya! Maybe I could have laughed it off. Maybe if he hadn't waited in the dining room for me to clean up the mess, carefully avoiding my gaze, I woulda seen the humour. But 3am and reeking of cat piss while he's ignoring me is not my idea of a good time.

And then I asked him to leave I was so upset. He gave me his requisite "okay, bye", which is his way of not getting involved when I'm acting like a cat-skinning lunatic. Who could blame him?

However, I still would have liked him to say, "Hey it's no big deal". It would have been nice to know that I (or my feline foe) hadn't turned him off jumping into bed with me for life.

Sigh. All I could do was apologise today and tell him I'd like to make him a meal sometime this week to make up for it.

Hopefully the cat won't piss in my food.

A Crisis Line Compromised Weekend

I am working today. It's Sunday. Most of the people on the streetcar this morning (REALLY goddamned early in the morning)were old ladies and well dressed european men on their way to church. It was certainly a different crowd than the one during the week in the afternoon. There is a decided lack of crack users on the Sunday streetcar along Queen Street at 6am. Maybe they're at church, too. Although, driving through Parkdale, I did see two guys try and light up as the streetcar passed. I'm not saying they were crack users, but it's pretty obvious what two guys in hoodies hanging out in a doorway, shakily passing back and forth a glass pipe are up to. I'm just saying.

Anyway, this is not my regular shift. I prefer late afternoon to night. This 7 am until 3pm shit is like being on acid. I have no idea what day it is and although I should be tired at this hour, I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to. Or it's not right to sleep on the job. Or something.

The vibe here on a Sunday is more than relaxed. When you are doing absolutely nothing but reading and surfing the internet the calls that come in really feel like they are interrupting you. How dare they have a personal crisis at 7 am on a Sunday? Don't they know I have newspapers to read and emails to send? Shouldn't you be at church? THAT'S your problem. Go to church. Ask God to care, I'm busy. (See? Mornings don't agree with me...)

I didn't work Friday. I got this shift at this ridiculous hour because I traded shifts with someone who had a Jewish holiday thingy. I thought it would be good for the karma, even though I avoid morning like it was an infectious disease. Fine and dandy, except, I was supposed to be here yesterday. I fucked up the dates and they were sans bilingual coverage on the phones yesterday. OOps. So I show up this morning ready to reap the benefits of a little good karmasation, ready to work, full of piss and vinegar...only to come in and read several emails of people panicking yesterday because there is one bilingual person and french people are waitng for over 20 minutes on hold. Double oops.

Anyway I'm here now and apparently another bilingual called in sick so I am actually here, by chance, to help this poor dude who worked all night and was going to stay until 3pm. Trooper. So he got to go home. And I'm here. Yep. Here.


It was just suggested to me by one of my co-workers that I get another chair for my feet so I can kick back and have a nap. THAT'S how busy it is. My kinda paycheque. Now if only we could smoke in here...

Might...fall...asleep