<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Fri, 25 Oct 2024 04:46:16 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Was It Something I Said?</title><description></description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-6884360940025384576</guid><pubDate>Thu, 17 Apr 2008 23:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-04-17T21:36:16.333-04:00</atom:updated><title>Tear Them Down &amp; Build Them Bigger</title><description>My office area at work is currently being remodeled.  The powers that be decided to convert our offices into an open concept style workspace.  Currently the layout of our office has separate offices with doors and walls and the like.  Once the remodeling is done there will be no more walls, doors or more importantly, the opportunity to surf the internet or talk on the phone for hours on end in privacy.  To be frank, I think this sucks and not just for the obvious reasons.  See, I&#39;ve just never understood the appeal of the collaborative work environment.  If I need something from someone I can yell across the hall at them to get it and conversely, if they need something from me I can avoid them by shutting my door and turning the ringer on my phone off.  It&#39;s a system that has served me quite well thus far and I just don&#39;t see the reason to mess with success.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my boss was explaining to us the rationale behind the decision that would change all of our lives forever, he explained that it would hopefully lead to more open communication, less duplication of efforts and prevent people from working in silos.   After his impassioned plea,  I thought to myself &quot;That&#39;s the best you&#39;ve got?  Open communication, less duplication and silo reduction?&quot;  Please what&#39; so great about open communication?  You want open communication?  How about this for open communication: &quot;Hey boss, you&#39;re the world&#39;s worst micro-manager and I mark the days on my calendar until your retirement.  Oh and Susie those pants make you look fat.&quot;  And while we&#39;re at it, &quot;Bob is it possible for you to bring a lunch to work sometime that doesn&#39;t smell like a rotten carcass?  And if you insist on eating rotten carcass for lunch could you not leave it in the refrigerator for three months until it decomposes?&quot;  Well, I guess I see the appeal of open communication now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I&#39;m still not sure about the downside of a little duplication of efforts in the workplace.  Just because me and the guy next door are working on the same thing because we don&#39;t talk to each other isn&#39;t such a bad thing is it?  It&#39;s pretty much a sure bet that one of us will get it done right?  Chances are it will be me since the guy next door is pretty busy eating rotten carcass.  Either way though,  it gets done and there aren&#39;t a lot of sure things in life so I don&#39;t think that&#39;s anything to scoff at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I really took issue with though was this talk about silo reduction.  I for one am sick and tired of people talking smack about the silo.  I&#39;d like you to try telling your farmer friend that he shouldn&#39;t be working in or around a silo.  I can pretty much guaran-gosh darn-tee you that they might have a few choice words for you.  Near as I can tell, silos serve a pretty important purpose not only to farmers but also to silo manufacturers so I just think people should learn a little bit more about our friend the silo before suggesting they should be abandoned completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, I want to talk about walls.   A lot of people seem to have a real fixation on tearing down walls.  I guess I&#39;m just of a different school of thought on this issue.  Personally,  I&#39;ve always been a big fan of walls, both literally and figuratively.     Sure, walls can keep people out but is that so bad?  What&#39;s so wrong with having a little bit of personal space and some discretion over who can invade it?  I certainly don&#39;t enjoy smelling dead carcass all day long.  I guess I&#39;m not really talking about the walls in my office anymore.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/04/tear-them-down-build-them-bigger.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-6225697033098387935</guid><pubDate>Sun, 30 Mar 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-29T20:00:08.191-04:00</atom:updated><title>Home for the Holidays</title><description>I was at my parent&#39;s over Easter weekend spending quality time with my family and celebrating the resurrection of our Lord.   I like Easter and all but I was thinking that people go on and on about how Christmas has become sooo commercial and everybody&#39;s forgotten the real meaning but as far as I can tell Easter&#39;s the religious holiday that&#39;s totally gone off the rails.   I was killing time on Easter Sunday while the rest of my family was at church and as I sat there in my easter bunny costume eating copious amounts of chocolate I became completely outraged at where things have headed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, my main problem with Easter is figuring out how to properly navigate the rocky waters of my mother&#39;s preparations for Easter dinner.  You see, my mother runs her kitchen a lot like a communist work camp except with less fun and interaction.  There are only two rules in my mother&#39;s kitchen:  Rule #1:  My mother is always right.  Rule #2:  When in doubt, refer to Rule #1.  These rules have become increasingly problematic for me over the years since I like to cook and every once in a while I actually have an idea that might be slightly different then my mom&#39;s and, well, this ain&#39;t no democracy.  So as my mother was leaving for church on Easter Sunday she gave me strict (the only kind she knows) orders as to what I was supposed to do while she was gone.   I was to make the sweet potato casserole, put the stuffing in the oven at 12:00 and turn the potatoes on at 12:30.  Timing was critical as any slight variation from the timeline would put the entire Easter dinner and potentially the resurrection in jeopardy.   As she was giving me these instructions I noticed that there was also a pot of turkey bones and  innerds that were simmering in water on the stove and so I asked what I was supposed to do with that and she told me to do nothing.  Great that&#39;s my specialty.  Definitely can&#39;t screw that up...or so I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So like the dutiful daughter that I am (at all major holidays) I went about my business of toasting pecans, mashing sweet potatoes, putting stuffing in the oven and was pretty much on schedule when &quot;go time&quot; arrived.  I always get about a two minute warning of when my parents will be coming in the door because they an electric garage door opener which they will activate from their car just before they pull in the driveway.   It&#39;s a pretty noticeable sound and since its installation back in the mid to late eighties it has served  a purpose similar to the air raid warning sirens used during the world wars.  Over the year&#39;s, my siblings and I have relied heavily on this warning system to provide us with a couple of minutes to either hide or end whatever completely unproductive activities or inactivities we had been heavily engaged in since my parent&#39;s departure.  It  is so ingrained in me that to this day when I&#39;m at my parent&#39;s house and I hear that noise, no matter  what I&#39;m doing at that moment, I am overcome with the undeniable urge to stop it immediately and begin vacuuming the floor or washing dishes because those are pretty much the only acceptable activities for my mom to &quot;discover&quot; us doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents arrived home at the expected time and I felt like I had thing pretty much under control.  When my mom arrives home I can usually get a read on her mood within 10-20 seconds just based on body language.  The initial assessment as she walked in the door did not look good. My mom made her way to the kitchen to survey the carnage (ie. my handiwork) and the barrage of questions began.  &quot;Is the stuffing in the oven?  Did you finish making the sweet potatoes?  Why didn&#39;t you add more water to this pot? It&#39;s almost dry!&quot;  I thought to myself, &quot;Do you mean the pot with two inches of liquid in it that you specifically told me to do nothing with?  Sorry, my bad.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As is the trend with these big family dinners everything came together in the end despite my best efforts to help/totally screw things up.   I know that they say that nothing worth having come without a struggle but I just didn&#39;t think that meant dinner on Easter Sunday.  Ah well, it&#39;s nothing that can&#39;t be solved with some more chocolate and quality time in my easter bunny costume.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/03/home-for-holidays.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-8943198481624387146</guid><pubDate>Mon, 24 Mar 2008 21:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-24T23:20:48.546-04:00</atom:updated><title>Where Everybody Knows Your Name</title><description>I&#39;ve sort of accepted the fact that I&#39;m not one of those people that leaves a real lasting impression on people when I meet them for the first time.  Based on my own unscientific observation, there are two basic ways to ensure leaving an impression.  The first is to have something striking about your physical appearance which could be in the form of an extremely unsightly deformity or more preferably stunning good looks.  The other way is to have a magnetic personality.  Unfortunately I don&#39;t have a magnetic personality or stunning good looks and I haven&#39;t been lucky enough to be severely mangled in a tragic windmill accident so I just do the best I can with the oodles and oodles of inner beauty I&#39;ve been blessed with. Thanks again mom.  Neither time nor a malfunctioning windmill can take that away from me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There&#39;s a market near where I work and at this market there is a frozen yogurt stand.  I am a big fan of frozen yogurt, specifically the type where you pick the fruit and they mix it with the bars of yogurt.    It&#39;s heaven in a cup...or cone if you prefer.  So anyway, I frequent this yogurt stand  about once a week.  Nine times out of ten I get the same thing which is a strawberry banana yogurt.  So today I wandered over there at lunch for my usual fix and I got to the counter and the owner (who&#39;s the only one who ever serves me) greeted me and we exchanged our usual pleasantries and then he said &quot;What can I get you?&quot;  I saddled up a little closer to the counter,  gave him a knowing glance and said, &quot;I&#39;ll have the usual&quot;.  I know it was brazen and it was bold and maybe my mind was clouded with memories of Cheers reruns but I&#39;ve always wanted to do that and I figured we had established the kind of rapport and history (ie. 8-10 months of me frequenting his business and ordering the same thing every time) that it was time for us to take our relationship to the next level. Not unlike most of my attempts to take relationships to the next level this one went over like a pancake which is to say it fell flat.   He responded to my request with a blank and slightly frightened look followed by an awkward pause and then he said &quot;Um, I&#39;m sorry, I don&#39;t know what that is.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although slightly disappointed, I wasn&#39;t really surprised that he didn&#39;t know what &quot;the usual&quot; was and he did seem genuinely disappointed not to be able to play along.   I was reflecting on the events afterwards and thinking that there had to be a way to kick &quot;Operation: I&#39;ll Have The Usual&quot; into high gear...without a windmill.  My first idea was to show up at the frozen yogurt stand in a slinky low cut number.  That would probably guarantee me some level of notoriety.  Although frightening the guy (and any small children present) may not be my best option.  Plus, he might get the wrong idea and &quot;the usual&quot; could end up being something other than a strawberry banana yogurt.  I guess a little bit of anonymity isn&#39;t so bad when I think of it that way.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/03/where-everybody-knows-your-name.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-8638081305223761627</guid><pubDate>Fri, 07 Mar 2008 01:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-06T23:25:38.874-05:00</atom:updated><title>The Winter of My Discontent</title><description>Dear Old Man Winter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First let me say that I&#39;m a big fan of your work but I&#39;m going to have to ask you to hit the bricks already.  Yeah, like today if that&#39;s possible.  Don&#39;t get me wrong, there are days that I really love you.  Like that one day back in 1985 when I got a day off from school and I built a snow fort that made the Alamo look like a frigging joke.  The problem is, we&#39;re going on five months now which means that my patience as well as salt supply is running thin.  More to the point, it&#39;s March and I just don&#39;t take too kindly to enduring numbingly frigid temperatures and Doppler 9000 winter storm warnings around the clock.   You&#39;ve outstayed your welcome and I for one am saying enough is enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I plan to do about this you ask?  Please, isn&#39;t it obvious?  &quot;Ask, believe, receive.....ask, believe, receive...ask, believe, receive.&quot;  Yeah that&#39;s right, I&#39;m going to send you back to the cold and desolate hole you crawled out of using the sheer force of my will via the principles of &quot;The Secret&quot;.  Shhhh, don&#39;t tell anyone.  Trust me buddy, you&#39;re no match for the law of attraction.  How do I know?  Well, just the other day I asked, believed and received for a totally unproductive day at work and wouldn&#39;t you know it that&#39;s exactly what materialized.   And I&#39;m not talking about your run of the mill lack of productivity, we&#39;re talking record breaking levels of being unproductive.  In fact, the principles of the Secret are so powerful that it&#39;s going on about 7 days straight.  That may have something to do with the fact that I haven&#39;t yet asked, believed or received for a return to productivity but that&#39;s neither here nor there right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, I&#39;m gonna level with you.  This whole thing just boiled to the surface yesterday.  See, I drove about an hour and a half out of town to go to a concert on Tuesday night.  A concert that I had been looking forward to for months.  So despite the Doppler 9000 predictions of a big winter storm, I hit the open road with the unwavering optimism that has become my trademark.  The drive there was fine, the concert amazing but things kind of got dicey from there.  While at the concert, approximately two feet of snow fell and as we left the concert the skies opened up and began raining down ice pellets to the point where we could barely walk down the street without getting chunks of ice lodged in our faces.  Let&#39;s just say it wasn&#39;t your best work.  Obviously the road conditions were treacherous to say the least.  With the sound of my mother&#39;s voice in my  head, I decided to stay overnight with a friend to avoid risking life and limb.  The conditions were so bad that I probably should have phoned into work the next day and said &quot;See ya tomorrow suckers.....if you&#39;re lucky!&quot; (which FYI is my traditional greeting when informing my boss I won&#39;t be in for the day).  The problem was that there was too much going on at work that day for me to phone in and I knew I had to be there.  Ordinarily I&#39;m a big fan of phoning it in when it comes to work but I&#39;m a lot better at doing it in the figurative sense as opposed to the literal one.  I guess I have my parents to blame for that.  Not for the fact that I phone it in on occasion at work but for the fact that I rarely miss work.  They instilled in us the importance of showing up to school or work no matter the possible (and often likely) risks we posed to ourselves and those around us.  Like that time in the second grade when I was up for the perfect attendance award so they sent me to school with the chicken pox and I ended up infecting half of the school.  Yeah, I wasn&#39;t so popular after that...but come to think of it I wasn&#39;t so popular before that either...but I digress.  You might have seen the movie that was based loosely on my experience?  It starred Morgan Freeman and was called &quot;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0114069/&quot;&gt;Outbreak&lt;/a&gt;&quot;.     Listen, all&#39;s I&#39;m saying is that if two feet of snow, a plague like downpour of ice pellets and a two hour drive that takes five can&#39;t get a sister a day off from work then it just seems a bit pointless to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here&#39;s the deal - I&#39;m not unreasonable so I&#39;d like to think we can come to some sort of an agreement before things get out of hand.  Here are your options:  If you get me a day off work within the next week I&#39;ll call the whole thing off.  If not, you leave me no choice but to open up a can of &quot;The Secret&quot; on you and you do that at your peril.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/03/winter-of-my-discontent.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-4255783349396069654</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Feb 2008 03:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-19T22:27:50.051-05:00</atom:updated><title>The Diving Bell And The Butterfly</title><description>I saw a really great movie over the weekend called &quot;The Diving Bell and the Butterfly&quot;.  It&#39;s a true story about the editor of Elle magazine in France who suffered a stroke and only his brain and left eye escaped damage.   The movie is based on his memoir which he wrote while in this paralyzed condition.  I don&#39;t want to give anything away so I&#39;ll just say that it was one of the best movies I&#39;ve seen in a long while and definitely worth seeing if you haven&#39;t already.  It&#39;s in French so if you don&#39;t speak French it will be subtitled which shouldn&#39;t be a problem if you&#39;re literate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you&#39;re interested you can click &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.thedivingbellandthebutterfly-themovie.com/&quot;&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to check out the movie&#39;s website and see a trailer.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/02/diving-bell-and-butterfly.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-187068640701468193</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Feb 2008 02:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-06T23:30:22.267-05:00</atom:updated><title>We&#39;re Serious About Success</title><description>Sometimes I wish I had attended DeVry.  Okay, I&#39;m not entirely serious but some days I do wish that I worked at a company that employed at least a few DeVry graduates because I&#39;ve heard that they&#39;re supposed to be pretty serious about success and we could use at least one person like that in our organization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a meltdown of almost epic proportions today which I can only assume is mainly due to the serious lack of Devry alumni employed at my workplace.  So here&#39;s the deal:  About six months ago a new web based &quot;tool&quot; was implemented globally within our company. The purpose of this &quot;tool&quot; was to centralize a number of databases and functions that each region or country utilized and have one common system that everyone used.  In theory this was a great idea since most companies had done this type of thing years ago.  Unfortunately, like many other great &quot;theoretical&quot;  ideas, it wasn&#39;t quite as great an idea when put into actual practice.   When I got my first glance at this new program, I was reminded of the program I had created as the final project for the computer programming class I took during my second hear of high school.  To be clear, I sucked big time at programming  but this program was my Sistine Chapel.  I mean this thing could like add up numbers and change colours and stuff.  Trust me it was pretty impressive stuff which should give you an idea of how  impressed I was with by this new program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they first unveiled this beast to our department, I commented to one of my coworkers that &quot;I had no idea they had contracted this project out to a group of DeVry students for a school project.&quot;  This was (not surprisingly) an ill advised comment as it turned out that his son had attended  Devry back in its heyday.  I obviously felt pretty bad about the situation for a couple of reasons.  First, I just felt really bad that his son had actually attended DeVry and on top of that I felt bad for myself that I had somehow managed to find the father of the only person to actually attend Devry and had then proceeded to make the disparaging comment about the institute of higher learning.  I found out that his son hadn&#39;t actually graduated from DeVry so I tried to explain that I actually had more respect for DeVry dropouts as opposed to graduates since at least the dropouts came to their senses at some point.  Surprisingly this did little to appease my compadre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and in case you&#39;re thinking to yourself &quot;I had no idea DeVry had a heyday?&quot;   Well you my friend are mistaken because it most definitely did.   In case you missed out, it occured during the mid to late eighties when DeVry sensed that there was an untapped market of uneducated couch potatoes who were longing to be seriously successful.   Sensing this need, they flooded television airwaves during shows like &quot;Magnum P.I.&quot; with overproduced commericals that took aim at capturing the hearts and...um...wallets I guess of this demographic.   In case you don&#39;t remember their commercials I&#39;ve included one below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;355&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/qfUjxTLJNHU&amp;amp;rel=1&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/qfUjxTLJNHU&amp;amp;rel=1&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; height=&quot;355&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the reason for my breakdown: Last week in our daily departmental meeting, &quot;Pong 2008&quot; (as I like to refer to it) locked up and I couldn&#39;t get anything to work so I went to hit the refresh button which usually does the trick but instead of hitting the refresh button I ended up hitting what turned out to actually be the &quot;DELETE THE ENTIRE DATABASE&quot; button that was not labelled as such.   Initially I didn&#39;t panic because I thought &quot;What yahoo would design a program that would allow some peon like me to singlehandedly delete the entire department&#39;s database?&quot;   Then I remembered that the company had cancelled that DeVry recruiting drive back in the fall so it was anybody&#39;s guess which Coconut College alumnus had been charged with button labelling on this project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I realized that this wasn&#39;t a problem I could fix,  I got on the blower with our onsite contact for these types of issues who put me in touch with our national contact who then informed me that the issue had to be addressed by someone at our global headquarters in Belgium since they managed the application.  Ah, finally it all made sense.  It was the Belgians who were to blame!  Don&#39;t get me wrong, I&#39;m a big fan of Belgians as long as they&#39;re simply responsible for making delicious beer and chocolate.  However, putting them in charge of the company&#39;s supercomputers just didn&#39;t seem like the best way to play to their strengths.  The kicker was that the guy who had told me to get in touch with Belgium also suggested that I should probably wait until the next day to call Belgium since they had probably left for the day.  I looked at my watch which read 7:15AM and thought to myself &quot;isn&#39;t it like 3:15PM in Belgium?&quot;  I realize that North Americans aren&#39;t exactly known for their aggressive pursuit of work-life balance but is it too much to ask for our Belgian friends to put in a full six hour work day?   Answer: Yes .   Then I realized that because of this guy&#39;s incompetence I&#39;d have to come in at 6AM and put in a 12 hour work day just to get in touch with him during his five hour work day.  Needless to say I wasn&#39;t impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did eventually manage to get in touch with my Belgian contact at some point between him throwing back cold ones and eating hot fudge sundaes.   The problem was that even after getting in touch with him it ended up taking three days to get the thing restored again.  I know it doesn&#39;t seem like a big deal but we basically rely on this thing for a number of our daily activities so it was quite inconvenient for everyone in the department.  No one was more put out by the whole thing than me since I had to explain that I was the one who had singlehandedly deleted everything which wasn&#39;t so fun after about  the tenth time.  I finally lost it when I explained what had happened to  one of my co-workers and he asked  &quot;Well how are we going to have our meetings without it?&quot; To which I responded  &quot;I don&#39;t know Jim?  Maybe we&#39;ll have to do like the pioneers did and use our brains for a change instead of relying on these supercomputers  that the Belgians control.&quot;   Obviously, grace under fire is not one of my giftings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I guess &quot;all&#39;s well that ends well&quot; right?  Yeah that doesn&#39;t really apply here but I&#39;m really working on not letting  things like this get to me.  And by &quot;things like this&quot; I mean people&#39;s total and utter incompetence.   I was thinking that if I were to start my own insitution of higher learning I think my slogan would be &quot;We&#39;re Mildly Serious About Mediocrity&quot; .  Sure it&#39;s not bold but at least I wouldn&#39;t be overselling anyone.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/02/were-serious-about-success.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-6267498144021040631</guid><pubDate>Thu, 31 Jan 2008 01:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-03T12:51:59.783-05:00</atom:updated><title>Who Moved My Gruyère?</title><description>Have you ever read the book &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/Moved-Cheese-Amazing-Deal-Change/dp/0399144463/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1201750165&amp;amp;sr=8-1&quot;&gt;&quot;Who Moved My Cheese?&quot;&lt;/a&gt;  Yeah don&#39;t bother.   I remember someone telling me years ago to read it.  Definitely a half an hour I&#39;d love to get back.  The thing is, I&#39;m a real cheese lover and I was under the impression that it was a suspense thriller about somebody actually trying to locate their missing cheese.  Turns out it&#39;s some sort of a parable about how to deal with change in your life.  Needless to say it was pretty disappointing.  I really felt the author failed to scratch the surface with his analysis of the central query.  I  thought the  question begging to be asked was &quot;What kind of cheese was it exactly that was moved?&quot;  Because if we&#39;re talking about something along the lines of Velveeta then it&#39;s really not even worth asking the question.   Now if we&#39;re talking about mascarpone or a nice aged cheddar then please get to the bottom of this immediately.   I will say however that the one good thing about this book is that  it&#39;s a testament to the fact that just about anybody out there could be a best selling author.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of cheese and deep meaning....  I tend to spend a lot of time in deep contemplative reflection about life&#39;s big questions.  Like just a little while ago I had an extensive discussion with my sister about what our favourite cheeses were.  Yeah, these are the questions that keep me up at night.  For a lot of people this would seem like a frivolous question but the great thing about my sister is that she&#39;ll actually engage in a thoughtful discussion about them.     The discussion got off to a rocky start when my sister stated that mozzarella was her cheese of choice.  I think blindsided would be the best way to describe my feelings at the  time.   Are you kidding me?  Mozzarella??  B-O-R-I-N-G!   I strongly believe that Gruyère is unequivocally THE greatest cheese ever.  Hands frigging down!  It&#39;s just so versatile.  Not only can you eat a block of it on its own (tasty but not recommended) but you can throw it in macaroni &amp;amp; cheese, on a salad, in a quiche or use it to make the world&#39;s greatest grilled cheese sandwich.  Plus, it&#39;s named after a beautiful little town in Switzerland.  Seriously, what&#39;s not to love about this cheese?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, she insisted that mozzarella was her choice which initially I didn&#39;t understand.  I think the main reason I didn&#39;t share her opinion was because she has a lot more access to top quality fresh mozzarella than I do.  If there&#39;s one thing I&#39;ve learned about mozzarella it&#39;s that not all mozzarella cheeses are created equal.   First of all, the dried up crap you buy in most north American supermarkets is a distant third cousin, twice removed from &quot;real&quot; mozzarella.  So in that context I sort of had a bit more appreciation for her choice.  Plus, the whole point I guess of these types of discussions is to open your mind to the possibilities outside of your own frame of reference.    Oh and it&#39;s also important to make sure people know that under no circumstances is it okay to move your cheese.  In fact, it&#39;s best to just not move things people are planning on eating.  At least that was the sobering lesson I took away from the book &quot;Who Moved My Hummus?: The Origins of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict&quot;.  Trust me, it&#39;s some  scary stuff.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/01/who-moved-my-gruyre.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-4926734872132391730</guid><pubDate>Fri, 18 Jan 2008 23:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-18T23:33:04.675-05:00</atom:updated><title>He&#39;s Cuckoo &amp; Not for Cocoa Puffs</title><description>Have you seen that video of Tom Cruise talking about scientology that&#39;s been circulating around the interwebs? I actually didn&#39;t really have much desire to see it since I was already pretty sure he was crazy and I didn&#39;t need anymore proof.  Well yesterday I saw a spoof of the original that was pretty funny.  They basically interject clips of Will Smith into the original and make it look like Tom is trying to convert Will to scientology.  You can see the video below.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width=&quot;400&quot; height=&quot;300&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;bgcolor&quot; value=&quot;#0000000&quot; /&gt;&lt;embed type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; src=&quot;http://www.iklipz.com/flashplayer/FLVPlayeriKlipz.swf?configFile=http%3A//www.iklipz.com/flashplayer/servers.xml&amp;streamName=def9139e-865c-4d76-8338-703281a78b52&amp;movieID=095ee98e-24d3-4d48-bcff-8ecf45fabca8&amp;photoName=71f088c8-b679-4aef-8037-5252250a1a44.jpg&amp;isFullScreen=false&quot; allowScriptAccess=&quot;always&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I saw the spoof, I was kind of curious to see the original.  I&#39;ve never really understood scientology but I just figured it was because I&#39;m not really a science fiction fan.  The thing is, I don&#39;t like to mock or judge people based on their religious beliefs.  Well technically, I actually don&#39;t mind doing that but I just try not to do it in a public forum.  The thing is, there are a lot of kooky &quot;religions&quot; out there but it just seems like scientology really takes the cake.  After watching Tom wax eloquent, my intial thoughts were confirmed.  Here are a few of my favourite excerpts followed by what I was thinking in my head when he said them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;A &quot;scientologist has the ability to create new and better realities and improve conditions&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How&#39;s about you just start by making new and better movies.  You haven&#39;t had a decent movie in like three years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;&quot;Being a scientologist, when you drive by an accident it&#39;s not like anyone else. You drive past and you know you have to do something about it because you&#39;re the only one who can help&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless you have the jaws of life in your car, I&#39;m not so sure you&#39;re the only person I&#39;d want on the scene if I&#39;m mangled in a car wreck.  That&#39;s just me though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;&quot;We are the authorities on the mind. We can bring peace and unite cultures.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom, I don&#39;t want to bring up what I can only imagine is a sensitive subject but if you can actually bring peace and unity how comes you got deevorced?  At the very least, you must have read Nicole&#39;s mind and seen it coming right?  And not to put too fine a point on this but if you are able to bring peace and unity, why don&#39;t you g&#39;head and put those invaluable skills to work.  There&#39;s a little place called the middle east that could probably use a hand if you&#39;ve got the market cornered on peacemaking.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/01/hes-cuckoo-not-for-cocoa-puffs.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-2426920025599104312</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Jan 2008 02:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-11T23:53:13.692-05:00</atom:updated><title>Best Music of 2007</title><description>I was thinking the other day that 2007 was a pretty good year for new music.  I spend a lot of time looking for new music to add to my collection but it seems like every year I&#39;m discovering more old music than new stuff.  2007 was the first year where I felt like there was actually a lot of good new music released.  It was actually the first year in a while that I actually bought albums that were great, not just songs. I realize that music is very subjective so this of course is just my opinion.  As a way of commemorating the music of 2007 I decided to put together a compilation of what were my favourite songs of the year.  This was no easy task.  It was actually, a close second to when I put together a compilation of the greatest love songs of all time.  That my friends was my Everest.  So I&#39;ve put together a playlist below of the songs that were my favourites from the past year.  Although I came across a lot of great music, I stuck to only including music that was released in 2007 . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as major highlights go I have to make special mention of my favourite album of the year which was &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.myspace.com/joshritter&quot;&gt;Josh Ritter&#39;s&lt;/a&gt; &quot;The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter&quot;.  If you have some time, check out the album which you can listen to in its entirety &lt;a href=&quot;http://joshritter.com/historical/&quot;&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.   I believe this actually was his fourth major release and although I had heard of him before I really hadn&#39;t listened to much of his music.  After I heard some songs off of this album I started going through the rest of his stuff and was pretty blown away.  If you&#39;re into singer/songwriter stuff you&#39;d probably like a lot of his stuff.  One of my personal favourites is a song called &quot;Kathleen&quot; from one of his earlier albums.  It&#39;s a pretty great love song.  Kind of makes me wish my name was Kathleen. It also includes some great lyrics including my favourite, &quot;Every heart is a package tangled up in knots someone else tied.&quot;  Ain&#39;t it though? You can hear the whole song on &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.myspace.com/joshritter&quot;&gt;his myspace page&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So aside from Josh there was a lot of other great stuff and I hope you enjoy the sampling I&#39;ve put together.   Also  feel free to chime in on what your favourites were from the year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width=&quot;300&quot; height=&quot;290&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://media.imeem.com/pl/mxijGfANI2/aus=false/&quot;&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://media.imeem.com/pl/mxijGfANI2/aus=false/&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; height=&quot;290&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/01/best-music-of-2007.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-8293867727953825413</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 Jan 2008 01:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-02T16:25:23.391-05:00</atom:updated><title>Nice Mitts</title><description>So I&#39;m sitting here watching the New Hampshire primary results roll in and I&#39;m thinking a few things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I need to get a life and I&#39;m definitely going to do that after the primaries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, what kind of a name is &quot;Mitt&quot;?  I had a friend once who had a cat named Mittens because the cat was black with white front paws.  I wonder if one of Mitt&#39;s hands was abnormally large and that&#39;s how his parents came up with his name.            I think that could be a really great story.  I could see him on the campaign trail telling a crowd of supporters, &quot;Listen people, if I can overcome the kind of adversity that comes with having one big banana hand, just think of what we can do together as a country!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, I&#39;m getting  tired of the way that these candidates end all of their speeches.  It seems like the only way to end a political campaign speech is to yell something along the lines of, &quot;From here we go to Michigan, South Carolina and then THE WHITE HOUSE!!!!!&quot;  Cue uproarious applause.  I think it would be really cool if somebody ended their speech by saying in a hushed tone &quot;The end.&quot;</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/01/nice-mitts.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-1487063115798411161</guid><pubDate>Tue, 08 Jan 2008 02:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-12T00:16:22.730-05:00</atom:updated><title>I Promised Myself I Wasn&#39;t Going to  Do This</title><description>The kindergarten teacher at my primary school used to do this presentation at graduation ceremonies at the end of each school year to the most improved student in her class. Invariably it would involve her saying at some point, &quot;I promised myself I wasn&#39;t going to do this...&quot; which was shortly followed by her choking back tears and getting emotional as she talked about this student who much to her chagrin had apparently caused her to break her promise. The first year this happened it was quite touching but by year six I was like, &quot;Why do you keep making that stupid promise to yourself when everybody knows you have no intention of keeping it.  Plus, the kid you&#39;re crying about is five years old which means there&#39;s plenty of time for him or her to become a total screw up and then you&#39;ll really have something to cry about.&quot;  The truth is that the main reason the whole charade really got to me was because the award was a train made out of chocolate and all of these stupid underachievers kept winning it and I&#39;m like, &quot;How much more do I need to underachieve around here to get some respect (or at least a chocolate train)?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I was reminded of this was because today the big political headline was about how Hillary Clinton got slightly emotional at a campaign stop and it was spun in a few different ways.  The first was that it was some form of a last ditch effort to garner support by showing that she&#39;s not a robot and the second was that this was evidence of why a woman couldn&#39;t handle the upper echelons of power because she&#39;d be busy crying in her coffee anytime she was under pressure.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I can pretty much guarantee that Hillary would not be crying as a way of garnering support.  Besides the fact that it&#39;s just not her style, she knows better than anyone that it will only be perceived as weakness.  Secondly, I get so annoyed with people who assume that women cry because we&#39;re weak. I just want to set the record straight for anyone that thinks a woman getting slightly emotional proves she&#39;s weak.  From personal experience I can tell you that women cry for a number of reasons.  We cry when we&#39;re frustrated, we cry when we&#39;re angry, and of course we cry when we&#39;re sad.   Plus, any one of these reasons could be triggered without good reason by a lack of sleep.  I just never understood how this was any different then someone who gets frustrated and blows their top.  Both involve someone losing control but somehow losing your cool is an acceptable way to go about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can probably tell, I have some very strong feelings on this issue.    About a year ago I was in a meeting with my boss where I got so frustrated that tears started welling up in my eyes and I had to go to &quot;my happy place&quot; in my head just to prevent the floodgates from opening.  I managed to hold back the tide but he knew that I was on the verge.  The next day, he came by my office to have a &quot;heart to heart&quot; with me.  He proceeded to tell me that as I progress in my career I needed to do a better job of controlling my emotions.  First of all, I know this and the last thing I wanted to do was put any of my emotions on display for him or anyone else.  Then I thought to myself, &quot;I&#39;m sorry but aren&#39;t you the guy that loses his cool pretty much on the daily and has verbally abused everyone who works for you at some point?&quot;  Fortunately I knew the answer so I didn&#39;t bother asking the question but it really got my dander up.  I pretended to accept his feedback graciously which I really should have earned a Best Actress Award for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that&#39;s my two cents on the matter so I say lay off Hillary already.  She&#39;s operating on like two hours sleep and since she&#39;s sleeping next to Bill you know that&#39;s two hours with one eye open.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-promised-myself-i-wasnt-going-to-do.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-5965871655868487800</guid><pubDate>Sun, 06 Jan 2008 09:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-07T00:00:34.002-05:00</atom:updated><title>Between Barack and a Hard Place</title><description>Up to this point I haven&#39;t really discussed politics since there&#39;s no better way to alienate people than to talk politics.  But with primary season upon us I&#39;ve got political fever and since it&#39;s my blog I&#39;m going to talk about it.  I have to admit that I&#39;m a bit of a political junkie.  Well I should clarify, I&#39;m a political junkie when it comes to American politics.  I realize this is a bit odd with me being Canadian and all but if national elections were a sport, American presidential elections would be the Superbowl of political events.  Canadian elections on the other hand would be like the world series of tetherball.  Sure it&#39;s sort of still a sport but could there be a more banal exercise.  I mean, I&#39;ll still watch it for a couple of minutes if nothing else is on but eventually I&#39;ll come to the realization that staring at a blank screen would be more interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a few reasons why I&#39;ve always been pretty intrigued with politics and one of them is the fact that I have a bit of political pedigree. Okay maybe pedigree isn&#39;t the best word for it but my dad was quite a political maverick in his day and as his kids we were forced into action in many of his landmark crusades.  The thing was, my dad had a real penchant for choosing slightly extreme and some may say futile causes.  For example, one of my earliest political memories was when my dad got very involved with a group called the Alliance for the Preservation of English in Canada (or APEC as it was known to insiders like me and my six year old brother).  Anyway, the main goal of this &quot;political lobby group&quot; was to end Canada&#39;s policy of official bilingualism and go back to just one official language which I believe they were hoping would be English.  I actually did an internet search for APEC recently just to see what came up and found out some pretty interesting things.  Apparently, in their prime they held a lot of Quebec flag stomping ceremonies which ended up sort of backfiring because it fueled up the Quebec sovereignty movement.  Well that&#39;s certainly annoying.  I can&#39;t believe I wasted an entire summer going door to door with all those stupid flyers while my sister typed letters to the prime minister only to end up furthering the very movement I was supposed to be ending when I was nine. I&#39;m not sure whether I believe that though because I&#39;m pretty sure if there had been some flag stomping going on my dad would have had us all there front and center in our Sunday best.   My research also found that in addition to their opposition to the horror that is the French language they apparently also fought some other noteworthy battles against things like immigration and homosexuality.  See now that makes a little more sense as I do recall a very memorable gay immigrant themed pinata party we attended one beautiful summer&#39;s eve when I was ten.  I remember sort of thinking that the pinatas seemed rather lifelike.  I should clarify that my dad isn&#39;t actually an extremist.  He just happened to have some unique and usually harmless passions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so that should give you a little idea about my political &quot;pedigree&quot;.  Although I&#39;m not sure that totally explains why I&#39;m so fascinated with American presidential politics.  Truthfully I think in a lot of respects it has to do with the fact that it is very much like a sport.  It has drama, intrigue, strategy, emotions, winners, losers, and of course the bragging rights that come with being on the winning side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In particular, I think that primary season really is the most interesting part of the whole process because it&#39;s really not about issues at all.   Essentially the candidates within each party have the same stance on the big issues whether it be health care, foreign policy, taxes, etc...  They all talk about their different &quot;plans&quot; but since they fundamentally agree on most issues it comes down to perception and emotion and who comes up with the message that resonates the most with voters.   Someone like Barack Obama is so intriguing because he&#39;s so engaging that I have the feeling that even if he was just a city councillor from Topeka people would still be falling all over themselves to vote for him for President.  Whereas someone like Hillary Clinton who is probably the brightest and most experienced of all of the candidates just can&#39;t get people to vote for her because they don&#39;t &quot;like&quot; her.  It&#39;s not that I&#39;m a big fan of Hillary&#39;s (although I have to admit that she&#39;s sort of grown on me much like a fungus) but it does strike me as a bit strange that it&#39;s so important to people that their president be someone they&#39;d feel comfortable having a beer with.  Truth be told, I also sort of feel sorry for Hillary because she&#39;s as smart (if not smarter) than her husband and has definitely paid her dues both personally and politically but I just don&#39;t see her winning the nomination.   I&#39;m almost positive though that if Bill Clinton was able to run again he&#39;d get elected for another two terms because he&#39;s such a top rate &quot;politician&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the Republicans and I can&#39;t really get excited about any of these guys.  You&#39;ve got John McCain who sort of reminds me of that curmudgeonly uncle who yells at you when you drive by his house too fast and who&#39;s always telling old war stories.  &quot;Hey John, we get it, you were in &#39;Nam and it sucked. Get over it!&quot;  Next there&#39;s Huckabee who I&#39;m still surprised has gotten as far as he has.  Then again, who can resist a guy who plays a bass guitar and has lost 150 pounds.  It&#39;s the American dream. He&#39;s like the Jared Fogle of politics.  Of course there&#39;s Romney who seems to be the most polished of all of the Republican candidates but everybody&#39;s scared because he&#39;s a Mormon.  I think Mormons are scary too and I&#39;m not sure why.   At the end of the day though it&#39;s interesting to me that Republicans would probably vote for an agnostic before they&#39;d vote for a Mormon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it&#39;s going to be a pretty interesting year in American politics.  I know it&#39;s really early but my prediction is that Barack Obama will be the next American president.  I just think it&#39;s going to be very tough to stop the Obamarama bus once it gets rolling...especially if Oprah&#39;s riding shotgun.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/01/stuck-between-barack-and-hard-place.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-7620714866074739917</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2008 03:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-03T00:50:04.052-05:00</atom:updated><title>Follow Your Bliss</title><description>They say  the key to happiness in life is all about &quot;following your bliss&quot;.  For the last week and a half that&#39;s been my sole mission.  As it turns out, &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; bliss looks a lot like sleeping in until noon, eating glutonous amounts of my mom&#39;s fresh Christmas baking for breakfast followed by a full day of glorious inactivity.  I&#39;m guessing that this wasn&#39;t exactly what Joseph Campbell had in mind but despite my staggering lack of productivity, my bliss felt pretty darn good.  The only caution I would have for anyone planning on following their bliss for an extended period of time is that you try to avoid wearing pants with elasticized wastes for more than a few hours at a time as they are capable of hiding a multitude of sins.  I know you&#39;re probably wondering how many pairs of pants I have with elasticized wastes and the answer is actually just two.  I have a pair of pajama pants and a pair of athletic/work out pants - which I guess is sort of ironic.  The problem was that I&#39;d put these on because they&#39;re so comfortable and by the time I had to put a real pair of pants on I needed a tub of butter to squeeze into them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came to this troubling realization a bit later than I should have.  It was about three days after Christmas which was about day six into my intense and focused study in the art of bliss.  My brother, sister and I had decided to pry our sorry carcasses off of the couch and go to a movie.  You know it&#39;s bad when the only motivation to get off of the couch is to go and sit on another one for two hours but what can I say, that&#39;s just how I roll.  Anyway,  I changed out of &quot;my Christmas pants&quot; and into a pair of jeans.  Boy was that an uncomfortable wake up call.  At first I tried to tell myself they were a touch snug because I had just washed them .  Then the harsh reality of the situation set in and and I just prayed they&#39;d give a little so I wouldn&#39;t lose consciousness in the middle of the movie. We arrived at the theater only to realize that the start time of the movie was actually fifteen minutes earlier than my brother had thought. Since we were already our standard fifteen minutes late for the &quot;perceived&quot; start time, we were in fact one half of an hour late for the &quot;actual&quot; movie starting time.  Although disappointed, I can&#39;t say we were completely surprised by this turn of events since my brother&#39;s not exactly a details guy.  They say &quot;the devil is in the details&quot; and with my brother being the holiest guy I know, the devil is nowhere in sight which means these things are just bound to happen.    I&#39;ve got to be honest, ordinarily something like that would really annoy me but the problem is that my brother&#39;s one of those people (perhaps the only one) who I find it almost impossible to stay annoyed at for very long which in and of itself is sort of annoying.  He&#39;s just so darn well intentioned and that apparently is my kryptonite as far as holding grudges goes.  The other reason it didn&#39;t annoy me so much was because it meant that I&#39;d be able to get back into my Christmas pants even sooner than expected.  In fact, as soon as we got home I was back in my Christmas pants in under two minutes flat (travel to and from my chambers included).  It was so quick that even my brother and sister were impressed...or scared, I wasn&#39;t really sure which.  I also took this opportunity to  share with them the song I&#39;d written about my Christmas pants.  The song was entitled &quot;Oh Christmas Pants&quot; and actually sounds a lot like &quot;Oh Christmas Tree&quot; but with the word &quot;Pants&quot; substituted for the word &quot;Tree&quot;.  Trust me, it&#39;s catchy.  They were both pretty moved by the musical expression of my devotion to my Christmas pants...or scared, again I&#39;m not sure which.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, I&#39;m not going to lie to you - following your bliss is definitely all it&#39;s cracked up to be and maybe even more.  The only downside I guess is that I&#39;m pretty sure I&#39;m going to be &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;working off&lt;/span&gt; my bliss at the gym for the next three months.  It&#39;s like another wise man once said &quot;Nothing worth having comes without a fight&quot;.  I&#39;m so relieved to finally know what he was talking about.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2008/01/follow-your-bliss.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-8404726084945320159</guid><pubDate>Tue, 04 Dec 2007 04:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-03T23:08:43.333-05:00</atom:updated><title>Someone&#39;s Always Got It Worse</title><description>As I write this entry, I&#39;m lying on my bed looking out the window as snow falls outside.  There&#39;s something really life affirming about a fresh layer of snow outside your door.  I&#39;m not sure why that is but it&#39;s pretty much the only thing I love about winter.  Sure, I&#39;m going to have to spend an hour shoveling like no one&#39;s watching tomorrow morning just to be able to get my car out of my driveway but at this very moment it makes me feel good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what else makes me feel good? It&#39;s meeting people that are less fortunate than me.  Before you get righteously indignant, let me explain.  I&#39;m not talking about people that are homeless or who&#39;s villages have been ravaged by a flesh eating plague.  I&#39;m talking about the run of the mill people you come across in your day to day life who just seem to have a few more problems than you do.  I know it sounds cliche but I&#39;m always amazed by the fact that no matter how bad I think I&#39;ve got it, there&#39;s always someone who&#39;s got it worse.  The key to this strategy working for you is  not to go overboard with it.  You&#39;ve got to find someone who has just &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;slightly&lt;/span&gt;  more problems than you, like somewhere in the neighborhood of 10-15% more, based on severity of the problems or sheer volume.  As soon as you cross this 10-15% threshold, the feelings of contentment with your life soon turn to feelings of sympathy and pity for this other person and that is the last thing you need.  Well actually, the last thing you need is all of their problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of feelings of contentment, my cat has recently lost some weight.  I haven&#39;t spoken of my cat&#39;s weight problem before but in light of her recent weight loss I&#39;ve decided to go public with her struggle.  My cat is about five years old and as she entered her cat teenage years she began gaining weight above and beyond normal levels. A lot of it seemed to be emotional eating and who could blame her since she&#39;s gone through a lot in her short life.  From losing her entire family in a tragic drowning incident and  being moved across the country.  Who could blame her for using food to numb her pain? I felt almost helpless as I watched her weight spiral out of control.  As much as I tried to reduce portion sizes and get her to be more active, nothing seemed to have any affect on her weight.  I tried to tell her it was for her own good and that even though I loved her just the way she was, society wasn&#39;t going to be as accepting as I was.   The more I tried to help her,  the more she pulled away.  I tried to tell her that she needed to do it for her own health and more importantly my pocketbook since I couldn&#39;t afford a big vet bill if she came down with some life threatening illness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing seemed to work and I just ended up feeling helpless and alone...but that was actually unrelated to my cat&#39;s weight problem.   Anyway, about a month ago, I got a new kitten.  With the addition of the kitten to the family, my cat has been forced to move more than twice a day.  This new fitness regimen, coupled with the fact that the new kitten eats my cat&#39;s food, has resulted in some noticeable weight loss.  In the end, I couldn&#39;t be more proud of her.  Not just because she lost the weight but because she did it for the right reasons -  fear, intimidation and emotional trauma.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/12/someones-always-got-it-worse.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-2834155206875974815</guid><pubDate>Sun, 25 Nov 2007 23:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-25T23:39:21.920-05:00</atom:updated><title>Things That Annoyed Me This Week</title><description>It&#39;s so hard to narrow it down to just three but here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Overzealous Cooking Show Host&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m a bit of a cooking show junkie.  I have a few of my favourites but the other day I was watching one that I don&#39;t normally watch.  For the first recipe of the show, the host said, &quot;You can pretty much use whatever you have in your fridge for this recipe.&quot;   She then strolls over to her fridge and pulls out fresh goat cheese, pancetta, farmer&#39;s sausage, creme fraiche, and fresh bay leaves.  Are you kidding me?  Just to play along I walked over to my fridge to see what I could come up with.  Hmmm, how about some week old sliced turkey cold cuts, ketchup, cheddar cheese, skim milk and half a jar of capers?  Can you work with that MacGyver?  Yeah, I didn&#39;t think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Winter Averse Canadians &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week a friend of mine was going to be in town for a conference and had asked me if I wanted to meet up for dinner one night.  We made these plans a few weeks ago and confirmed them the day before.   The day of, I got an urgent sounding voice mail at work saying that she would have to cancel our plans due to the bad weather because she was worried about what the drive home would be like.  For the record, the &quot;bad weather&quot; she was referring to was approximately a half a centimeter of snow that had accumulated over the last twenty four hours which I would refer to as a &quot;light dusting&quot; and not exactly blizzard like conditions.  I don&#39;t want to pick on my friend here but every year I&#39;m astounded by the number of &quot;so called&quot; Canadians who seem to find it impossible to function at the sight of any kind of remotely winter-like conditions.  Sure, I can understand it if you&#39;re new to the country and you&#39;ve never dealt with it before but I&#39;m talking about people who have been born and bred her and have known no other.  Like at work, there&#39;s this guy who always shows up at least an hour late anytime there&#39;s even a flake of snow on the ground.  And then when he finally shows up he&#39;s all like &quot;You wouldn&#39;t believe the road conditions out there.  It took me two hours to get here and it usually only takes me fifteen minutes.&quot;  To which I respond (in my head), &quot;Wow Jim that&#39;s pretty crazy.  Did you drive your moped to work or did you take the Yellow Brick Road again because the rest of us somehow managed to navigate the same roads you did and get here two hours ago?  Maybe you should think about hitching a ride with someone who has less of an active imagination.&quot;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Non-Drivers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years my dad has coined some pretty classic sayings or names for things which have now become a part of my own vocabulary.  One of them is the word &quot;non -driver&quot; which is the term my dad would use to refer to any driver that annoyed him and/or was a really bad driver.  On any given day my dad would probably cross paths with at least a half a dozen of these &quot;non-drivers&quot; and if you were lucky enough to be along for the ride you were in for a treat and a half.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I had my own encounter with a non-driver this week.  This particular non-driver was also an elderly driver which in most cases are one and the same.  I&#39;m not trying to lump the elderly into one category but I will quote Harry from &quot;Dumb &amp; Dumber&quot; when he said &quot;I guess they&#39;re right: senior citizens; although slow and dangerous behind the wheel--can still serve a purpose.&quot; So here&#39;s what happened:  I was driving down the street on my way to work.   As I&#39;m driving, I see a car coming towards me.  This is a regular residential street with cars parked along one side, but there&#39;s still enough room for two lanes of traffic.  This is a tricky driving predicament but not an uncommon one.  The thing about this situations is that in a way you are entering into an agreement with the driver on the other end of the street.  My job is to get as close to the side of the road as possible and their job is to navigate as close to the parked car on the other side of the road .  If one of us fails to fulfill our end of the bargain we either end up engaged in an unplanned game of chicken or a head on collision, neither of which are pleasant options.  As the car is moving towards me I see that there is plenty of room for both of us to pass as long as we both fulfill the terms of our unofficial agreement.  Unfortunately, I also see that my friend on the other end of the street is driving a Buick which does not bode well for either of us.  For the record, I don&#39;t have a problem with people buying Buicks but it just seems sort of counter intuitive because they usually buy these big cars to feel safe and then they end up in unsafe situations because they have no idea how to navigate them because they are so big.  So my friend is leaving enough room for a marching band between her car and the parked cars which leaves me with the short end of the stick.  As we get close, she starts to realize that there may not be enough room for both of us if she doesn&#39;t scooch over.  At the last minute (as my life passed before my eyes), she readjusted and we managed to live to see another day.  As we passed each other, I caught a glimpse of the horrified and panic-stricken look on her face.   Something tells me she headed straight for the Smart Car dealership after our encounter.  Sure they&#39;re hideous looking and unicyclists will pass you, but you can pretty much drive those things on a sidewalk, which might be the best option for Mabel.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/11/things-that-annoyed-me-this-week.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-7019872106280109374</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2007 02:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-18T22:39:44.343-05:00</atom:updated><title>There&#39;s No Room for My Dang Baby</title><description>&lt;object height=&quot;355&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;I&#39;m not sure why I find this commercial amusing, but I do. Plus, who among us hasn&#39;t been in a similar predicament?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;355&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/8aJ48exYQSE&amp;rel=1&quot;&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/8aJ48exYQSE&amp;rel=1&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;355&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/11/theres-no-room-for-my-dang-baby.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-7988494695886430815</guid><pubDate>Tue, 13 Nov 2007 03:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-12T23:45:57.486-05:00</atom:updated><title>First Casualty of Operation: Let the Healing Begin</title><description>Well, I sort of had a feeling this wasn&#39;t going to end well.  Last week we were all pulled into an office and told that the head of our department (ie. my boss&#39; boss) had just been let go by the company.  Truth be told, I wasn&#39;t really surprised and quite frankly thought it was about two years overdue.  It&#39;s not that I like to see anyone lose their job but the guy was clearly in way over his head and something had to be done.  The best way to sum up his tenure would be to quote a friend of mine who said after the news broke &quot;Well, I hope things work out for him.  Hopefully he finds a job that&#39;s more suited to his talents - like one where he doesn&#39;t have to make any decisions or manage people.&quot;  Ah yes, that would be perfect for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing I sort of realized during this whole saga was that I think I might have become completely immune to other people&#39;s suffering because I felt very little emotion over the whole thing.  I tried to think about the fact that he has four kids and he&#39;s the sole breadwinner and the fact that he&#39;s spent fifteen years with a company that just tossed him to the curb like yesterday&#39;s garbage and I honestly couldn&#39;t muster anything more than a sense of relief.  I know how horrible that sounds but on some level I just really felt like he wasn&#39;t happy and that in the end he would probably be happier without the job. Plus, financially I know he was given a very handsome package so he&#39;ll definitely land on his feet.  Once I made myself feel like less of a monster however, I started wondering if the reason I&#39;ve become an emotional island in this regard is due to the fact that over the last year and a half I&#39;ve seen more than a half a dozen people that I&#39;ve worked fairly closely with lose their jobs?  Some of them were harder than others to deal with but the last couple barely fazed me.  I&#39;ve really tried to learn to remove emotions from anything work related since it doesn&#39;t really feel worth the investment.  It&#39;s definitely easier said then done but the truth is I kind of wonder that if I&#39;m able to turn my emotions off in one area of my life then it may automatically transfer to other areas?  I&#39;m not quite sure right now but it worries me a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One interesting side note to the whole story was that one of the reasons I wasn&#39;t surprised by the announcement was because I had sort of been tipped off ahead of time.  You see, I was playing squash with a guy I work with the day before it all went down and afterwards we were talking about things in my department and some of the issues and frustrations I was having.  He works in another department at a more senior level to me but works pretty closely with our department.  Anyway, after I finished sharing my thoughts  he said &quot;Well, I don&#39;t want to get myself into any trouble here but I will just say that nature has a way of taking care of these things.&quot;  I thought to myself, &quot;Nature??  Is there a hurricane headed our way that&#39;s going to take out our senior leadership team?&quot;  I guess I sort of misunderstood because the human resources department ended up taking care of things in lieu of waiting for an act of God.  The other interesting thing was who was named as his successor the next day.  That&#39;s right - none other than my squash buddy.  Things just keep getting curiouser and curiouser...</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/11/first-casualty-of-operation-let-healing.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-2201606267572575024</guid><pubDate>Fri, 09 Nov 2007 01:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-16T16:52:36.948-05:00</atom:updated><title>Marc Cohn</title><description>Most people that know me know that I&#39;m a huge music fan.   I spend a lot of time listening to music both new and old.   Most of my friends and family have at some point been on the receiving end of one of my famous/infamous mixed CDs.   Some enjoy them and some  use them as coasters but that doesn&#39;t stop me from churning them out at a rather alarming rate.  When I hear a song or artist that I really love my involuntary response is to burn it onto a CD and distribute it to all of my nearest and dearest so they can share in the joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favourite artists has always been Marc Cohn.  If you don&#39;t know who Marc Cohn is then it really calls into question the caliber of your musical tastes.   Most common folk would know him best from his big hit which was &quot;Walking in Memphis&quot;.  Most of his fans (and there aren&#39;t enough of them) know him from the four amazing albums he&#39;s put out.  Being a Marc Cohn fan is definitely not for the impatient or faint of heart since Marc is not exactly a prolific songwriter.  He&#39;s been around since 1990 and during that time span has put out only four albums.  I&#39;ll tell you one thing though, when I listen to certain songs of his I think that, quite frankly, if he never wrote another song  in his life he&#39;s already done more than his fair share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you&#39;re wondering why I suddenly feel the need write about my deep and undying affection for Marc Cohn and his music,  it&#39;s because I just saw him in concert last night and was reminded of what an amazing talent he is.  I&#39;ve seen Marc three times in concert which I think is quite an achievement considering how rarely he tours.  The last time I saw him was a couple of years ago and I actually drove to Cleveland to see him because he didn&#39;t have a tour stop in Canada.  Yeah, I&#39;m pretty hardcore I guess.  I remember when I went to the concert and on our way into the venue we had to show identification to verify our age and the bouncer saw my Ontario driver&#39;s license and asked shockingly &quot;You came all the way from Ontario to hear this guy?&quot;  I thought to myself &quot;clearly you have no idea who &#39;this guy&#39; is, you idiot.  Maybe if you took your Backstreet Boys CD out of heavy rotation in your CD player you&#39;d discover some real music for a change you moron!&quot;  Of course I just smiled and continued since I wasn&#39;t going to let this guy rain on my parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night&#39;s concert was without a doubt the best concert I&#39;ve been to.  Of course I realize that this sort of thing is all very relative and everybody wants something different from a concert experience.  Some people want to be entertained and need bells, whistles and fireworks to really consider a show amazing.  That&#39;s definitely not what I&#39;m looking for.  Sure that&#39;s fun once in a while but  what I really enjoy is quite simple and that is, good musicians playing good music.   The main reason his music is so great is his ability to use his songs to tell stories and to take the listener right there with him.   As he was singing one song  in  particular that I&#39;ve always loved, but never quite understood, there was a moment where it just all of sudden clicked in my head what he was singing about and it reminded me what great music is all about.  It has such an amazing power to connect people and their stories in a really unique and profound way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that I should close for now before my blog turns into a Marc Cohn fan site but hopefully I&#39;ve conveyed my thoughts on Marc &amp;amp; his music.  If I haven&#39;t quite done that then let me know because I&#39;ve got a mixed CD that might just do the trick.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/11/marc-cohn.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-3039165933511072225</guid><pubDate>Thu, 01 Nov 2007 02:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-31T22:46:42.716-04:00</atom:updated><title>World&#39;s Cutest Kitten Revealed</title><description>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVLzWL2eT5kb5c4pnyhiBAPZPpxXeu2A6mLKp3ow3tA7YaKNuS7sk6r5HyvcfEeOIgqVC9hqe4XxB8bapndJx6I2Eb2WGdFL_kNprUPAs4ePKr_zdT-KbBoV0W32l8bNyWh0-1/s1600-h/Georgia1.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVLzWL2eT5kb5c4pnyhiBAPZPpxXeu2A6mLKp3ow3tA7YaKNuS7sk6r5HyvcfEeOIgqVC9hqe4XxB8bapndJx6I2Eb2WGdFL_kNprUPAs4ePKr_zdT-KbBoV0W32l8bNyWh0-1/s400/Georgia1.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127692613190554610&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pictured here you will see the most recent top prize winner in the &quot;World&#39;s Cutest Kitten&quot; contest who also just so happens to be my new kitten.   Okay, so she hasn&#39;t officially won any titles yet but seriously she&#39;s got to be in the running don&#39;t you think?  I&#39;ve decided to make a one time exception to my self imposed &quot;no photo&quot; policy on my blog because I really thought that this was definitely a case of a picture being worth a thousand words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before people get all up in my grill about how weird cat people are I&#39;m going to set the record straight.  Yes cat people can be weird but so can dog people and vegetarians and mormons so why do cat people get such a bad rap?  For some reason people have this pre-conceived notion that cat people spend all their spare time holed up in their one bedroom apartments talking to their cats as if they were their nearest and dearest friends.  Sure I do this more than a few times a week but what&#39;s so wrong with having a strong affection for another one of God&#39;s creatures?  A creature I might add that is intelligent, self cleaning,  and provides constant loyal companionship and unconditional love as long as they&#39;re rubbed incessantly and their food bowl is full?  Nothing as far as I&#39;m concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here&#39;s the bottom line:  I don&#39;t expect everyone to have a deep affection for cats but I just don&#39;t get people that seem to have some deep seeded animosity towards them.  Like for instance, I had some people over to my house for a barbeque a month ago and I had some chicken and burgers on the grill and I went to pick my cat up and put her inside and some yahoo piped up and said &quot;When does that go on the grill?&quot;  I managed my most evil eye and kept on walking but thought to myself &quot;Right after we throw you on the rotisserie you sadistic wind bag.&quot;  I mean come on, what are you some sort of serial killer?  I don&#39;t particularly like hamsters but I&#39;m not thinking of ways to mutilate them in my spare time.  Yeah, not cool buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ll let the picture take it from here...</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/10/worlds-cutest-kitten-revealed.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVLzWL2eT5kb5c4pnyhiBAPZPpxXeu2A6mLKp3ow3tA7YaKNuS7sk6r5HyvcfEeOIgqVC9hqe4XxB8bapndJx6I2Eb2WGdFL_kNprUPAs4ePKr_zdT-KbBoV0W32l8bNyWh0-1/s72-c/Georgia1.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-8224163121836539211</guid><pubDate>Tue, 30 Oct 2007 03:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-29T23:31:02.678-04:00</atom:updated><title>That&#39;s What Friends Are For</title><description>I got an email chain letter today. I don&#39;t know why these things still annoy me but I just sort of thought that by now they would have gone the way of the crop top . So a friend sent me this one that was supposedly in honour of &quot;National Friends Week&quot;. Of course at first I was quite touched by the very personal nature of the message. As most people know, when you want to tell someone you really appreciate them you usually do that with a mass email that was written by some mysterious person who clearly has way too much time on their hands. This message was pretty original and included heartfelt sentiments like &quot;A Good Friend Will Come to Bail You Out of Jail&quot;. Well that&#39;s certainly one to grow on. Gee, I guess if that&#39;s the case then I don&#39;t have any &quot;good friends&quot; because all of my friends have managed to stay out of the big house. Then again, I do have a friend who had a warrant out for her arrest because her license was suspended and she rode her bike down to the local police station to turn herself in. However, I didn&#39;t bail her out of jail so I guess that still leaves me friendless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually my favourite part of the typical chain letter is &quot;the hook&quot;. You know, the part where they tell you who&#39;s going to die in the next 24 hours if you don&#39;t forward this to sixty people in the next ten seconds. This one had a pretty good one which insisted that you forward it to five people within five minutes and if you did you should prepare yourself for the &quot;biggest shock of your life to occur between 1-4PM the next day&quot;. Wow, that is some kind of hook don&#39;t you think? Can you imagine the resources it takes to make that happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you go thinking that I&#39;m being too harsh here, I just want to make it clear that my reasons for despising the chain email letter are not purely selfish. Sure, they&#39;re a huge waste of my time but on top of that they&#39;re environmentally irresponsible. Just think of the resources that are wasted sending these messages across the world. Think of what we could do with all of the hydro electric power we&#39;re wasting by creating, storing, sending, and viewing these messages. Hmmm... now that I&#39;m thinking about it I might have something here. If I play my cards right there might just be a Nobel Peace Prize in this for me somewhere? Seems like they&#39;re giving those out to just about anybody these days. Plus, who wouldn&#39;t support someone getting a Nobel Peace Prize for eliminating the email chain letter? Now that&#39;s a cause everyone can get behind. Well, everyone except for the unemployed I guess. What else are they gonna do with their time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I started preparing my acceptance speech I decided to get back to the matter at hand. I don&#39;t usually feel the need to forward or reply to these types of messages but couldn&#39;t resist with this one and my response was as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Dear Friend: Thank you so much for the very personal and heartfelt message. As you can imagine, I was deeply touched. Please let me know what happens to you between the hours of 1-4 PM today as I am anxious to hear what life changing event occurs. I&#39;m sending you this email during those hours and I can only hope for your sake that this is not it.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that&#39;s one less person who&#39;ll be calling me to bail them out of jail.   Mission accomplished.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/10/thats-what-friends-are-for_29.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-1238039396835722503</guid><pubDate>Wed, 24 Oct 2007 16:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-24T23:28:16.177-04:00</atom:updated><title>Let The Healing Begin (Update)</title><description>Spoiler Warning:  If you haven&#39;t read my previous post entitled &quot;Let the Healing Begin&quot;, you may want to read it before proceeding with this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really didn&#39;t expect to be providing an update on &quot;Project: Let the Healing Begin&quot; this soon after it&#39;s inception since most people know that the healing process is usually a slow one.   As of right now it looks like this particular healing process is moving about as fast as a war amputee walkathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what happened you ask? Well, today my boss and the head of the other department that we&#39;ve been at war with had a major knock down, drag out argument.   The discussion started out as a casual conversation about procedures and allocation of roles and responsibilities between our departments.  Initially the discussion took place in the open office area but within a few minutes, it quickly escalated into a much more heated &quot;discussion&quot; at which point they moved the festivities into my boss&#39; office.  Unfortunately (for them), the walls of my boss&#39; office have virtually no sound dampening qualities so they may as well have continued the conversation out in the open or perhaps over the intercom system because we were privy to pretty much the entire argument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as arguments I&#39;ve been witness to in the workplace, this one will definitely go down as the loudest and most no holds barred I&#39;ve ever been privileged enough to be in the presence of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the highlights which I should mention were all uttered in very much outdoor voices:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Well, I believe that falls under my job description so I don&#39;t think it should be something you need to worry about...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;It sounds like you don&#39;t think I&#39;m doing my job?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;If you and Jim think that you can do a better job running this department, then be my guest!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Nobody&#39;s saying that, stop being so sensitive...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;How about you just do your f*?%^&amp;amp;@ job and then I&#39;ll do mine!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Maybe if you did a better job of managing your people then I wouldn&#39;t have to do your job!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the discussion basically revolved around the same central theme which involved the need for more people to do their f-ing jobs and it&#39;s hard to argue with that...or so I thought.  The interesting thing was how &quot;The Argument Heard &#39;Round the Office&quot; ended.  As the final verbal barrage concluded there was a conspicuous silence and before we could designate someone to go in and check for bodies, both parties exited the office looking like they had just finished playing a game of parcheesi.   Did they think we were idiots?  We knew what had gone on in there.   There was no parcheesi board in there.  (I checked)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it will be interesting to see what impact this has on the healing process my boss was working so tirelessly towards. Maybe tomorrow I&#39;ll ask him to clarify what exactly he meant by &quot;healing&quot; or at the very least what he had in mind as far as a &quot;go&quot; date for this elusive healing process because it sure didn&#39;t start today.   Maybe it&#39;s just sort of like a diet - we&#39;ll just start it on Monday.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/10/let-healing-begin-update.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-3637915838812905158</guid><pubDate>Fri, 19 Oct 2007 03:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-22T21:19:27.569-04:00</atom:updated><title>Let the Healing Begin</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I look around at some of the people I work with some days and I’m so tempted to stop them as they do their best speed walker impression on their way to their next meeting and ask them “What’s the point?”&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I know they make a lot of money doing whatever it is they do during the twenty hours a day they spend at work making up pointless powerpoint presentations and elaborate excel spreadsheets and working through their lunch while their nanny raises their children. They must do it for a reason right?&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Part of me really wants somebody to give me a convincing answer to that question but the other part of me sort of knows there probably isn’t one, at least not one that would mean that much to me. &lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I’m well aware of the fact that this level of cynicism isn’t exactly a recipe for the career fast track. In fact, it’s probably not even a recipe for a job as a janitor and I do my best to hide it.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some days this is definitely harder than others. &lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Days like today are a good example.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At the end of our daily department meeting our boss began this very heartfelt (for him anyway) speech about putting an end to inter-departmental conflict.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You see, there’s been this whole turf war that’s been slowly building between our department and another one and it had reached a bit of a fever pitch over the last couple of weeks .&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The problem has been that both departments have a shared role in achieving a pretty critical target.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Unfortunately each department thinks the other department is the weak link which results in overstepping of bounds, finger pointing, blame storming, and all around ineffectiveness.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This would all be totally fine if we were actually achieving the goal we were responsible for.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Unfortunately, as the year winds down we’re starting to realize that our inability to get results may result in all of us (and many others) not getting our annual bonus.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that pretty much anything will be tolerated in the work place as long as it gets results but when people’s bad behaviour starts to affect results (or more importantly someone’s pocketbook) it’s just not kosher anymore.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So my boss is giving us this heartfelt speech which is almost convincing until he ends it by saying “So I think it’s time to let the healing begin.”&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At which point I looked around to see if I had been transplanted into Dr. Phil’s studio audience.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;So my boss’ speech was humorous for a couple of reasons least of which being the fact that he is the most divisive person I’ve ever met. I haven’t met Hitler but based on what I’ve heard he would be a close second to my boss.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I really believe that if given the opportunity my boss could have turned Gandhi into a serial killer.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So you can understand why I may have had a hard time taking him seriously.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The other funny part was afterwards one of the guys in my department stopped by and asked “So what did you think of that ‘Come to Jesus’ speech we got this morning?” I hadn’t really thought of it as a religious experience per se but I did find his characterization of the meeting amusing.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I was also glad that I wasn’t the only one in the room who found the whole thing a bit melodramatic.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t know, sometimes I think that some of the people I work with forget that we’re not curing cancer.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;To be honest, I thank the good Lord everyday that none of the people I work with have anything to do with finding a cure for cancer or even athlete’s foot for that matter.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There would definitely be no healing in sight.&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/10/let-healing-begin.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-3124236129441442590</guid><pubDate>Tue, 09 Oct 2007 03:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-09T00:08:56.080-04:00</atom:updated><title>Dance Like No One&#39;s Watching</title><description>&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot;&gt;I recently saw a band called &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot; href=&quot;http://www.myspace.com/mutemath&quot;&gt;Mute Math&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot;&gt; in concert.  If you haven&#39;t heard of them, they&#39;re a band from New Orleans and they put on a really good live show.    As far as the type of music they play, I guess the easiest way to describe would be to say it&#39;s rock you can dance too - along the lines of The Killers or The Bravery.  They were playing a really small venue in town and tickets were only $14 so it seemed like a great opportunity to see a good concert for pretty cheap. &lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot;&gt;One of the things I enjoy about concerts is seeing what cross section of people are there. I’ve always felt that the music people listen to tells you a lot about them.  So invariably, I’m intrigued to see what types of peop&lt;/span&gt;le are enjoying the same music I enjoy because on some level I must have something in common with them.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;When I first arrived at the concert, the first thing I realized was that I may be getting old since I was probably one of the oldest people there not including parents that were chaperoning their children for the evening.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I started wondering if I was turning into one of those people that listens to the same music “the kids” are listening to as some sort of dysfunctional way of trying to stay hip.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was going to be a bitter pill to swallow if that was the case.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;I realize, I’m not getting any younger but I didn’t think I had become one of &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;those&lt;/i&gt; people already.&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;As I stood near the bar, I watched the parade of kids saddle up to the bar and flash their wristbands at the bartender like some sort of badge of honour as if to say “Yeah, I don’t really like beer but I want you (and everyone else) to know that I can have one”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing that struck me about the crowd was the diversity in the group.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not the cultural diversity of course, since there are approximately three non white people that live in this city and they’re not allowed to be out past &lt;st1:time hour=&quot;9&quot; minute=&quot;0&quot;&gt;9:00&lt;/st1:time&gt;.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The unique thing was that there seemed to be two distinct groups that were represented: There was the group of really clean cut kids who looked like mom and dad had dropped them off in the family mini-van for the evening and would be picking them up promptly at 11.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Then there were the kids in the strategically ripped jeans with their freshly minted fake I.D.&#39;s who had made sure their parents had dropped them off a block away and would be going home whenever they felt like it, or whenever their allowance money ran out – whichever came first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;As the band began I sort of became intrigued/distracted by a guy standing in front of me.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was distracted because of how “into” the music he was getting.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The best way to describe him would be Ned Flanders meets Johnny Christian meets Nerd McNerdy.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;He was dressed in a button down blue oxford shirt and khakis with very sensible shoes.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I couldn’t tell if he had just finished a tax audit or wrapped up his weekly bible study but either way, white boy had some serious moves and he wasn’t afraid to show them off.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The problem was that his “serious” moves were seriously bad.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The other problem was that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him because he was totally oblivious to the fact that everyone was watching him.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I watched him throughout the concert I couldn&#39;t help but think, “So I guess this is what it looks like to dance like no one’s watching.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I guess he can go ahead and check that off his to-do list”.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That thought was followed shortly by the realization that although dancing like no one&#39;s watching &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;seems&lt;/i&gt; like a good idea when it’s stitched on a pillow, it can be less of a good idea when actually put into practice.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The other interesting thing I observed was that as the concert progressed, the group of friends  he had arrived with had slowly migrated away from him to the point where he was pretty much standing/gyrating by himself at the end of the concert.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I sort of felt sorry for my accountant friend at that point and it was a reminder of just how fickle friends can be&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; when you&#39;re a horrible dancer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot;&gt;The truth is, I sort of admired the guy for not caring.  It’s rare that you see that kind of reckless abandon on display and I think we could all learn a lesson from him.  I for one am going to make a more concerted effort to  throw caution to the wind on a more regular basis.   In fact, I think I’ll start doing that tomorrow.  Actually, tomorrow’s not so good.  In fact this week probably won’t work at all.  Plus, I should probably take some dance lessons ahead of time.  I’d just hate to be unprepared for something this important.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/10/dance-like-no-ones-watching.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-1178639390832114275</guid><pubDate>Tue, 11 Sep 2007 21:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-22T09:03:49.873-04:00</atom:updated><title>You&#39;ll Be Hearing From My Lawyer</title><description>So I was talking to my lawyer the other day...The truth is I really don&#39;t have a story here about my lawyer it was just an excuse to say &quot;I was talking to my lawyer the other day&quot;. I actually just bought a house and I had to hire a lawyer to close the deal. Anyway, I realized that I won&#39;t be able to say that very often so I&#39;ve been trying to max it out. Like today at work I must have said it about half a dozen times in completely inappropriate situations. I&#39;m just realizing that I didn&#39;t clarify with my co-workers what I was speaking to my lawyer about. Maybe it&#39;s not such a bad idea that they don&#39;t know. Maybe they&#39;ll think twice before they mess with me for fear of me getting litigious. That could be fun I think. Like the next time a co-worker corners me I&#39;ll end the conversation with a quick &quot;Yeah, well we&#39;ll see what the jury has to say about that! See you in court sucker!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to the matter at hand... I am currently writing this entry from the back deck of my new abode and I feel as though I have the world by the tail when I&#39;m sitting here. I think I know why people stay in soul sucking, passionless yet decent paying jobs for their entire lives. At least I think I have a pretty good idea now. I have no problem admitting that my house is no dream house but it&#39;s the perfect house for me. I remember when I saw the house for the first time and it was probably around the tenth house I saw. It was sort of like meeting your soul mate except this actually happened. There was this instant connection and I knew that we were meant to be together. I had seen some nice houses (in addition to a few rat traps) but none of them spoke to me in this same way. So here I am, five months later and I&#39;ve got the world&#39;s tail firmly in my grasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the fact that I am really enjoying the house I&#39;ve got to say that one of the reasons I waited so long to buy was the fact that I absolutely detest moving. I realize that nobody really enjoys moving but there are people that don&#39;t seem to mind it. Either way, I HATE it. I knew this move was going to be the most painful since I&#39;ve obviously accumulated more crap since I last moved. When I started packing it became painfully clear just how much of a pack rat I was. There were boxes I hadn&#39;t even opened since I last moved two years ago. Logic would dictate that if I could go two years without even looking at those things then I could probably get rid of them. Unfortunately, every time I stumbled upon one of those items I remembered why I had held onto them. &quot;Oh wow, I definitely can&#39;t throw out that boarding pass from that flight I took to Atlanta three years ago. I had such a good time on that trip and throwing out that boarding pass would be the equivalent of throwing away those memories.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was telling a guy a work about my problem and he was explaining to me about how he has a &quot;system&quot; to deal with such difficult decisions. &quot;I gave all of my kids a &quot;sentimental box&quot; and I told them that if they can&#39;t fit it in this box then they can&#39;t keep it. That way there&#39;s a limit to how much stuff they can keep.&quot; I was intrigued with the idea but I thought there were a few minor details that just wouldn&#39;t work for me. First of all, calling something your &quot;sentimental box&quot; kind of takes a lot of the sentimentality out of it for me. Plus, I would need more of a sentimental &lt;span style=&quot;FONT-STYLE: italic&quot;&gt;room&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style=&quot;FONT-STYLE: italic&quot;&gt;wing&lt;/span&gt; which sort of defeats the whole purpose. Ah well, I shouldn&#39;t beat myself up over it - I guess I&#39;m just way more sentimental than most people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I did manage to make some tough decisions and got rid of some items that I held near and dear. The abridged list is as follows:&lt;br /&gt;1 Penguin Shaped Ice Shaver&lt;br /&gt;1 copy of Dr. Phil&#39;s Self Matters&lt;br /&gt;1 Bowling Pin Lamp&lt;br /&gt;1 Coffee Table with Bowling Pins for Legs&lt;br /&gt;1 Celine Dion CD&lt;br /&gt;1 Gum ball Machine Shaped Fishbowl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I&#39;m going to have to cut the list short here since it is turning out to be a bit incriminating. In my defense, I always thought there would be an occasion where I&#39;d think &quot;Man I wish I had a penguin shaped ice shaver...&quot; and BAM, I&#39;d have the perfect thing right at my fingertips. Also in my defense, I don&#39;t think I actually purchased Dr. Phil&#39;s book myself. Although if somebody bought it for me I&#39;m not sure that&#39;s much better. I&#39;m just going to assume that somebody left it at my place and I didn&#39;t have the heart to get rid of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The defense rests.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/09/destination-is-journey.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20590097.post-6118752733002655459</guid><pubDate>Tue, 21 Aug 2007 01:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-27T23:24:23.911-04:00</atom:updated><title>Irregardless</title><description>I was talking to a friend a while ago who reads my blog and commented that based on my blog entries it sounded like I worked with a &quot;bunch of idiots&quot;.   For some reason  this caught me off guard.   Not because it wasn&#39;t true because for the record I do work with a bunch of idiots, but because I actually don&#39;t mind most of the people I work with.  However, there are definitely a few of my co-workers that  make this blog possible.  We recently had a new addition to our team at work and it just wouldn&#39;t be me if something hadn&#39;t already gotten under my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this guy who I will refer to as &quot;Mr. Bojangles&quot; started about a month ago and I was pretty excited about getting the fresh meat around the office since I was kind of getting bored with the same people annoying me day in and day out.  It was just starting to feel like family and that&#39;s just the sort of feeling that makes me want to head for the hills.  So Mr. Bojangles is one of those young and really eager types who thinks he&#39;s going to change the world one Stephen Covey book at a time.  There&#39;s actually some small part of me that really admires those kinds of people.    Of course, after about a minute of admiration I move on to figuring out the quickest way to burst their Goodyear blimp size bubble.  Don&#39;t get me wrong, I&#39;ve been there myself before.  Mind you, it was for about a week back in the late 90&#39;s before the cold world crushed my hopes and dreams and mocked my very unmanageable hair at every turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it very quickly becomes clear that Mr. Bojangles is eager to make an immediate impression.  On his first day he makes the rookie mistake of piping up in one of our meetings to offer his two cents of &quot;wisdom&quot;, which despite the strong Canadian dollar ended up being more like half a cent.  There were a couple of reasons this sort of perturbed me: 1)  On your first day it&#39;s next to impossible to add any value unless it is to go and get me a cold drink while I&#39;m thinking about the next intelligent thing I&#39;m going to say.  2) If you are going to attempt to say something in a meeting on your first day, I would advise against the use of the word &quot;irregardless&quot;.  The main reason this is an ill-advised move is because IT IS NOT A WORD.  All you need to say is &quot;regardless&quot; and now you&#39;re trying to sound like Mr. Fancy Pants with the big word which unfortunately has the exact opposite effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Mr. Bojangles has now committed one of my most annoying verbal crimes.  The reason the use of the word &quot;irregardless&quot; irks me so much is because it seems like there is a particular type of individual that insists on using this word.  It&#39;s always that guy who&#39;s trying to sound smart.   In fact, he actually may be smart since I&#39;ve seen it go either way with this.  Either way he&#39;s TRYING to sound smart.  Plus, it seems like the people that use the word irregardless are rarely very thrifty with it.  They act like it&#39;s their only $10 word and they&#39;re going to get more than their money&#39;s worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing I noticed about &#39;jangles is that on his lunch breaks he goes and sits in his car and smokes.  One day shortly after he started I was heading out to my car around lunch time and I noticed he was sitting in his vehicle with the windows down smoking like a chimney.  I realize this isn&#39;t really a big deal but it just struck me as odd.   I mean, if you&#39;re going to bother to go to your car to smoke why not take it one simple step further and put the key in the ignition, foot on the pedal and go somewhere a little more scenic than the employee parking lot which for the record could pretty much be anywhere on God&#39;s green earth!  At first I thought maybe I was just catching him as he was returning from his lunch break but I&#39;ve now seen him out there almost daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far it looks like my new compadre is going to be around for a while.  He&#39;s of below average intelligence, has no people skills, has no fashion sense and annoys me on a daily basis.  This can only mean that he is bound to have a very long and prosperous career  and at some point  will probably be my boss.</description><link>http://heatherbetts.blogspot.com/2007/08/irregardless.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Heather)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item></channel></rss>