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I Start Fires!

Lexiroth
Her Rainess
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'Cedez
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2002-08-01

Piggy's specs were nicked at: 2:24 p.m.

Don't worry. I'm not fired.

I talked to my manager, and things are more or less OK now. I'm still blisteringly angry at Peckerhead, but I don't have to work with him at all next month, which should give me time to simmer down.

I'm not sure about what to do with the Twenty Five Minute Woman yet, however. But I don't have to work with her for about half a month, so.

Speaking of work, here's Fun Work Related Incident #101: Three sticks of dynamite were discovered in a locker near the LCBO (Liquor store). Unlit, naturally, but the mall was evacuated. I wasn't working that day. Damn, how come I miss the fun stuff? Screaming lunatics, invading raccoons, gang fights, and now dynamite.

"Nadia, you drink too much pop," my co workers tell me while they sip their coffees laden with megatons of sugar. Problem with my work is, everyone loves to get into the others' business. But I'm sure that's everywhere. I hate corporate bullshit -- there's no escaping it even if you scrub toilets for a living.

I usually don't let it get to me, but it's extremely hard to let it all roll off my back when I hear the inevitable statement every Jewish holiday:

"Oh, you're Jewish? Then you must be rich."

HELLO, DING DONG! If I'm rich, why am I working at a job that's destroyed my knee, my sinuses, and given me tuberculosis? All for 11 bucks an hour?

Jews are not automatically rich. We don't "$ help each other out $." We're not plotting to take over the world. Please, get over it.

Most of all, don't come up to me and start rambling about how "my people" are "wrong" about what they're doing to the Palestinians, because I don't give a shit about Israel. There, I think I even spelled "Palestinians" wrong. Oh, I'd love to visit Israel -- it's the land of my ancestors and an old, old, holy place laced with history. But I live here in Canada, where the biggest danger I've faced in the past ten years involved fucking unlit dynamite. I don't live in Israel, and I have no right to an opinion about who's right or wrong. I don't have to live in a squalid refugee camp with no hope, but I also don't have to worry about a suicide bomber blowing me to Kingdom Come while I take my high school exams.

(A few strains of If God Will Send His Angels can be heard in the background)

Do we understand? Man, people are so sure of themselves. One guy at work said that, since I eat pork I'm not a Jew. Okay, so I'm not a Jew! Just leave me alone, and when you return to Heaven, little informed messanger boy of the sky, tell God to turn down the heat. It's blazing down here.

Me and the pet Yank have been swimming a lot lately. Now there's an excercise that'll wear you out. I adore the water. Being a Cancer probably has a lot to do with that. Seriously, the most effective way to torture me is take me to a body of water on a hot day and make me sit beside it, forbidden to splash. My mom and I used to take our dogs to a reseviour near our house. They'd splish away, and one day I lost my nerve and jumped in. I should mention that this particular reseviour is a scummy e-coli soup. It empties into the Don River, which any Torontonian will tell you is as dead as a dog's doornail. So I kept my mouth shut real tight.

I'm finally well underway with a Mechadrake update. Took me a while. I'm in and out of sorts lately with grown up worries, so.

It's also just a really tough thing to use this computer now. With only 64 megs of RAM, you can imagine how this piece of shit machine must fly. I might consider donations a la Toastyfrog and Bob and George in the near future, but I might sneak off with those and buy that knee brace I've been hankering for. Eeevil.