Random Updates, and a Helpful Trick

Update #1:
When I returned from Ireland, a few of my houseplants were, shall we say, in need of some TLC. Some (like my English Ivy...that's a post for another day) were beyond help, and I feared my Jasmine was among them. Once the dead branches were pruned, and the crispy leaves bushed aside, there remained but a few sharp brown twigs sticking out of the pot. You can see them in this picture. You can also see that it has been brought back to health, and three lively green shoots have sprung up since then. Its been a long journey, and I wondered if it would ever return to its former glory. This plant used to be quite bushy and frequently dotted with fragrant white blossoms. Well, today I celebrate because one of its 3 buds have opened, and I have a beautiful white bloom!
I am very happy.

Update #2:
Its been one week since I got (my warts) tortured at the walk-in clinic.
They are not nearly as sore as they were, and are now beginning to darken.
The doctor said they should be gone within 2 weeks, so they have seven days to skedaddle.

Ps. I hear putting Apple Cider Vinegar on warts is supposed to get rid of them...maybe I should have tried that. It might have been less painful!

Speaking of Apple Cider Vinegar....

Helpful Trick:
We get bombarded with fruit flies at our house every now and then.
And lately its been more now than then.
I've found a way to get rid of them, and it really works!

I got a shallow dish, poured in some Apple Cider Vinegar (the fruity smell attracts them), and covered it with plastic cling wrap. Then I poked holes with a fork.

The flies smell the vinegar, climb in the holes, and then eventually fall into the liquid and drown because they can't crawl out!

The picture shows the second batch of victims. The first batch was even more successful!

Student Survival

I lived through my culinary encounter.
I actually got so nervous when I walked into the building, I almost didn't go into his office. This feeling that I was a disappointment, a traitor even, was unbelievably strong, and I didn't want to face the conflict ahead.
At 12:30 the cafeteria was buzzing, which was really good, since when I started last September it wasn't nearly as full that early in the year. I like to think this is because we impressed the campus with our skillz last year, and now they know the caf actually exists.
Anyway I got the dreaded conversation over with, and it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It was nice to hear that they wanted me back, but I don't think that is in my future. I got my cheque, had a delicious lunch (Pad Thai, served up by one of my friends from the class under me), and saw some old classmates. It was nice, and I walked out $75 richer (uniform damage deposit).

Unfortunately, other student-related issues have come up. Turns out my student loan is not satisfied with my soul, it wants my firstborn as well.
The friggen retarded BC Student Loan sent me a bill today, telling me its time to pay up! It's a relatively small sum they are asking for, which wouldn't be so bad-- if I hadn't already paid every last freaking dollar to them on September 2!
This is soooo frustrating. I have no idea where they got this number from, but I don't want to pay it, and now I have to drive out to the bank and get it all sorted out, and I just KNOW they are gonna tear the money from my cold dead hands. I'll stammer and protest, and they will spout off their garbley snarbally nonsense and in the end I will have to pay.
Stupid!
I really hate student loans, and I am sorry I ever got one.

Return of the Jilli

Today I have to go into the culinary arts building to pick up my uniform deposit.
One of my instructors, who is now chairman of the culinary program, called me to let me know it would be there for me; said it would be on his desk. A cheque is easily mailed. I know he is luring me into the den for questioning.
Like Luke Skywalker, I must face the head of the opposition, (who incidentally is not my father). He will try to lure me to the dark side...but I must be strong.
Its crazy how this simple task has me all nervous...this particular instructor can be a little bit in-your-face and I don't like having to defend my decisions.
I can only hope that I return with both hands in tact.

Warty Toe Woes

Remember my wart fiasco?

The battle has been ongoing for a couple years now. I tried Compound W, and I tried Oil of Oregano, and I tried...well, ok maybe that's all I tried, but these warts were resistant! And I'm not very persistent. I needed an assistant!

I took the step. I resolved to have them burned off at the walk-in clinic yesterday.
I called in the morning asking if there was any time for me to come in and get it done, and the lady assured me that there was plenty of room between 12pm and 1pm. I clipped my toenails, shaved my legs (sorry male readers, but facts are facts), and headed out.
When I arrived at the dimly lit waiting room, the beady-eyed woman at the reception desk told me quite firmly that there was no room before 3pm. Um...what? It's like 11am!
I put my name on the list, and decided to kill some time! Those warts were going down, if its the last thing I do!
Fortunately I got to meet up with my friend Rishelle, whom I haven't seen since her wedding in May, and we had a great visit over lunch.
I did some shopping, and generally just toodled around town until around 2:30, when I headed back to the clinic. The sign on the door read: Sorry! Walk-in is full for today. Good thing I had already put my name down!
I grabbed a cheesy magazine (there was very poor selection...I was disappointed) and hunkered down to wait.
I waited.
And waited.
Checked the clock. 4pm. UUUUGHHHH.
Annoying people sitting beside me.
Waiting.
Still waiting.
Everyone else is getting called in.
Finally! The receptionist called my name and led me down a narrow hallway to a examination room in the back. I sat in the chair and took off my sandal.
My foot was actually kind of disgusting. It had some weird black dirt on it, and various other goodies from walking around all day. Gross.
I frantically tried to rub it clean with my hand, and then when that proved unsuccessful, my purse. Haha...I know.
In the end, it was improved, but still looking like a dirty summer sandal foot.
If that's the way its gotta be, than that's the way its gotta be.
I resumed my waiting. After a long time, the doctor knocked and entered.
He was some kind of cross between a stereotypical grandfather and a mad scientist.
I showed him my warty foot, and he was like, "well lets see if these are actually warts, and not just callouses."
Ummm....excuse me??? I think I would know if they were just callouses!
He grabbed a little metal scraper and scraped at the warts until their full warty glory was revealed.
"Ah, yes," he said, "I can see the little black dots now. Those are definitely warts!"
Well now that we've got that cleared up...
"Have you ever had warts burned off with liquid nitrogen before?" He asked. "Its going to hurt a little bit."
Pain, schmain. I laugh in the face of pain.
The Doctor left the room and returned with a cannister, about the size of one of those old-fashioned milk cans. He twisted off the cap, and an eery tendril of wispy smoke escaped. I fidgeted nervously. He then proceeded to dip a large cotton swap into the nitrogen, until tiny ice crystals formed.
"Ok," He said, "I'm just going to freeze your warts, and hopefully they will be gone in about a week."
The swab swooped in and alighted on my bottom wart with a fearsome hiss.
At first it wasn't so bad. It felt a little bit like an ice cube.
Then it began to burn. Slightly uncomfortable.
Up and down, up and down, hiss, hiss, hiss!...I think the Doc was enjoying this a little too much.
My foot was getting sore now. The skin around the wart was more sensitive, and I was ready for this to stop.
"Yes, these are freezing very easily. That's good."
He dipped the swab a second time, and moved in on the second wart, on my toe.
Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!
Owwwwwiiieeeeee!
Hisssss! Hissss!
"Stop! Please! I'll tell you everything! I'll tell you whatever you want to know!"
Make sure you never entrust any top secret national security information to me, 'cause I won't last a minute under torture.
After what felt like a very long time, the nitrogen cannister was resealed, the swabs thrown away, and my wounds bandaged.
I bid farewell to the sadistic Doctor, and hobbled out of the clinic.
My foot was tender, and the warts were stinging. It doesn't hurt like a major wound, just like those nagging burns that I used to get in school all the time, except this time its on my foot, and there's no way to avoid contact with it!
Because they are on my right foot, driving is a bit uncomfortable.
They are better today, but still sore. The large one on the bottom of my foot has gone all white, and the others are still swaddled with a bandaid, bit I assume they look the same.
Hopefully they will be gone soon! Its time this war was finished!

Completion!

This came in the mail today....Not the flowers, just the shiny little folder with the gold embossed lettering. And inside it said this...
I was beginning to wonder if it would ever come. If maybe there had been some mistake, and I hadn't met some small-print requirement and therefore failed the entire year.
But it came.
And now I had something to show for all the blood, sweat, and tears, (and STRESS), that I experienced. Was it worth it? Did this fancy-schmancy piece of pulp validate me?

A little bit.

I'm glad I have tangible proof of my hard work. 'Cause I did work hard. Last year was probably my hardest-working year yet. And this certificate tells the world that I did what I set out to do.

Which was learn some sa-weet cooking skillz, and discover if this was the career for me!
Turns out it wasn't, but I did learn so much, that I don't regret doing the course at all. Do I regret dropping out of the program, and not entering the final semester?
Not at all!!
I'm keeping in contact with my classmates who have gone on to find out what level 3 is like, and sometimes I snicker to myself when I think of all the things I don't have to stress about.

My zest for culinary life has passed on, though I still enjoy eating just as much as ever (I love fooood!), and I'm not opposed to watching Hell's Kitchen on occasion, just to get a feel for what I'm (not) missing.

So I tuck this important document into my files, and smile when I think of the good times I had in culinary school, but I'm ready for the next adventure now. Can't wait til I figure out what that is!

EDIT: This is my 400th post! (For real, this time!)

HA! (yeah riiiiight!!!)

Your Career Personality: Independent, Flexible, and Ingenious

Your Ideal Careers: Astronaut Entrepreneur Lawyer Nightclub owner Photographer Private investigator Real estate developer Stand up comic Venture capitalist Video game developer

The Quick and Dirty Career Test

Blogthings: A Fine Line Between Insight and Stupidity

I've Got a Problem

While we're on the topic of my vices, and I'm looking for blog fodder, let me reveal one of my deep dark secrets.
I seriously doubt if even my mother knows the extent of this failing.

I am an obsessive compulsive picture-frame purchaser.
Have been for years.

The reason its such a well-kept secret is even worse.
I almost never actually put pictures in the frames!
Its sad and true. They languish in the dark recesses of my closet, un-photoed, and un-hung.
I tell myself regularly that I should print some photos off and fill some of these frames up, but I can never decide which photos to choose, and I can't bring myself to put holes in my wall. On top of that, the frames are all different shapes, sizes, colors, and styles, and I'm not sure how to arrange them so that they look good together.

Looking on the bright side, I'm still my frugal Dutch self, and I don't buy expensive frames. Usually my weakness kicks in near the sale rack. Can't pass up a good markdown, ya know what I mean?

Its kind of funny that I never realized how bad it had gotten until yesterday when I was searching my closet for something, and came upon boxes and boxes of stashed little frames, and larger ones tucked in behind other closet treasures. I thought to myself: this isn't good.

But I also told myself, when I move out I will actually put them up.
And I don't know if I'm lying to myself or not.

De-Caffienated

I love coffee.
I really do.
Its such a comforting little beverage. (does it qualify as a beverage?)
There is nothing sweeter than curling your fingers around a warm mug of the aromatic, dark brew. I drink mine with a bit of cream, or black if its really good stuff.
Ice-caps, Frapps, iced lattes, cappuccinos...I like them all.

I used to drink a lot of coffee, especially working at Tim Hortons, and while I worked at Camp Homewood in '07. Thinking back, I can't believe how much I drank. It was my liquid of choice. I'm sure it was not good for my heart. Maybe that's what started the problem...
About 2 years ago (after I left Homewood?) I began to notice some negative effects now and then. An inability to sleep at night, rapid heart beats, headaches.

Then I went to Ireland and drank black tea incessantly for 9 months. It wasn't a good scene, my friends. Drinking it at breakfast would give me a good kick in the pants, but I found that if I drank anything caffeinated after lunchtime, it was likely to keep me up into the wee hours of the morning, or at the very least, cause a very restless sleep. Sometimes I would wake up extremely early, and my heart would be racing...not cool.
Since then, I've decided to cut back. Most of the school year I went without, except for a few rough mornings in the kitchen. I substituted it for naturally caffeine-free teas so I could still have that warm drink on a cold day. I did especially well this spring and summer, slipping only occasionally for a nice cold ice-cap (its the drip coffee that does me the most harm, anyway).
And did you know that decaf coffee still has enough caffeine to cause addiction?
The problem is, I still love coffee, and I want to drink it! Most of the time I am pretty good about sticking to my decision, but I might occasionally ditch my caffeine-free morals and dive into a soothing foamy cafe latte! What can I say? I am mortal and weak. And I love my coffee.

Can't Even Think of a Good Title

Its over.
I've become that Boring Blogger.
I'm inconsistent, and when I actually hunker down and rap out a few words, its dull and uninteresting even to me...especially to me. I couldn't string together a few funny sentences if I tried, which I am just too unmotivated to do. The only reason I'm writing anything now is because of this cloud of blogging guilt that is hovering over me, raining down a storm of oblogation (hey I just came up with a new blogging term...maybe this was worth it after all?) whenever I sit at the computer.
Its not like I've been busy. And most of the time I blog best when I have waaaay too much time on my hands, and nothing really big is happening. Its the little things that can be fun to blog about.
Now I'm just sitting here, staring at the screen, willing it to inspire me.
Uuuuuuugh.

Its not working.
Sorry I wasted your time. But did I really? I mean, if you are here reading this, you know how meaningless my blog is, and you probably weren't expecting much anyway. You probably WANT to waste some time, right? RIGHT?
Is it worth clicking the little orange publishing button? I'm tempted to just delete this whole thing, and leave my blog un-updated until I actually have something to say.
But that would be against my policy.
I'm not quite sure what that policy is, but I am sure that deleting useless posts is against it.
So it is decided.

Have a nice day.

Forked

I'm at the fork in the road again.

I hate the fork in the road.

It means making decisions, and it means I have to decide what I want. And what I want may or may not exist in real life.

That is, a job that I love.

Last year I thought, "I will cook! Cooking will be great! I will love to cook!"
And I DO love to cook. But I am sometimes not a huge fan of working in a kitchen, sometimes. I definitely do NOT love line cooking. And frankly, I'm not enough of a perfectionist to go very far in it.

So I've crossed cooking as a career off my list.

And now that I'm not going back to school, I have to start looking at other options for this Fall.

Sometimes I think I want a job where I do not have to deal with people at all. People can be annoying, and demanding, and rude, and I don't like dealing with people like that. I just want to tell them to get over themselves and get a life. And that really wouldn't go over so well in a customer service type of job.

Other times I think I would go even crazier if I worked alone. Sometimes solitude isn't very healthy for me. I need other people around even if I don't interact with them, or else I just get really...weird. I can't explain it...all I know is, it isn't good.

I can't sit at a desk all day or I will be in physical pain 24/7, and if I'm running around on my feet all day, that can be just as bad. Am I just being difficult?

I want a job where it isn't just a job. I want to be of help to someone in some meaningful way. But I also want to be able to come home from work and not think about it. Is this realistic?

Right now I've just started working part-time as commercial janitor...its pretty mindless, simple work, but it does require attention to detail which I will have to improve in myself! For now, its ok, and it pays pretty good compared to what I'm used to. But its just a bandaid on my problem...I obviously can't/won't do this for the rest of my life. So what am I going to do?
I'm so envious of people who are ambitious and focused and get into what they want to do right out of highschool. They are already well on their way to accomplishing their goals...and I'm still drifting. I haven't really completed anything since highschool. Am I just going to wander aimlessly through life forever? I have even less of an idea of what I want to do now, than I did then! I just know more things that I don't want to do :P

I keep hoping that one day I will see something and get my "aha!" moment, but I'm beginning to wonder if there will realistically ever be a job that I'm excited about. Ever felt that way? Do you have a job (or know of a job) that gets you excited? What is it and why do you love it?

Married

Another one bites the dust...

My dear friend Liz Geddert is now Mrs. Liz Taylor, married to the real live Tim Taylor.
I would post more pictures but I didn't take any during the ceremony or reception, and I stole these ones from Rebekah who will probably be posting more soon anyway!

It was a really beautiful wedding, and probably the most unusual and unconventional one I will ever have the pleasure of attending! I appreciated how Liz and Tim got back to the basics and stuck with what was really important in a wedding, without all the frills and unnecessary traditions.

They are now honeymooning for 4 months, rockclimbing in various places across North America.
Normal life resumes for the rest of us.
School will start up next week for many, and the job hunt is on for the likes of me.
It will be an interesting Fall...

To Do

After kind of slacking off and not doing much more than (sort of) unpacking on Monday, I decided to be good and get things done yesterday. It went well.
But I realized my list is longer than I thought. There are those other To Do's that I didn't write down because, well, I don't want TO DO them. I'm such a huge procrastinator.
So today is dedicated to those unpleasant, unwanted chores.
I need some kind of reward for myself if I get them all done.