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march madness :: 2013 edition

it kind of looks like the eye of sauron
i've spoken to you before about my feelings on the month of march. i hate it. i hate its bitter winds. i hate its false claims to be spring. and although i like leaving work before dark when daylight savings hits, i hate having to get up in the dark like some sort of mole person.

but no matter how much i hate march, it's nothing compared to how much march hates me.

people think i'm making this up, but to them i say...

the month started with a screw up at my bank that left me accidentally without access to money.

my workload has been building to a level that could politely be described as insane. i'm always busy, but this month there seems to be a fundamental disconnect between the expectations and reality. [note :: my employers actually acknowledge that this is the case. there just isn't much to be done about it at the moment.]

while st. patrick's day is normally the one bright spot of the month, i won't get to enjoy it, since i got volunteered to work an extra day this week.

in case you've wondered where i've been this week, my computer had a sudden meltdown earlier in the week. if that sounds like something you've heard before, it's because you have. the same thing happened last march.

a payment i was supposed to receive was submitted a day late, which actually resulted in a two-week delay in me getting the money.

an order i had placed with an overseas company was judged to be hazardous material and destroyed for the good of humanity, apparently.

our phone, for no reason anyone can figure out, refuses to make long distance calls, which is kind of a pain when your family lives in another province.

the cable and internet crapped out for three days.

our television remote has been taken by space aliens, which is a pain, because they just don't make televisions with those dials anymore.

after suffering with sciatica for several months, dom has finally been able to move around again. but since the beginning of the month, he hasn't actually been able to walk, so "moving around" means sort of flailing his arms and legs thither and yon.

some really, really graphic conversations that an old friend- who is married to another longtime friend- had with someone who happens to have the same name as me got posted on facebook. not everyone realised that there were two people with the same name. hilarity ensued.

that's all the major things. of course, the month isn't halfway done yet and, if my horoscope is to be believed, the first half of the month was actually the good bit.

Comments

I feel your pain!
In the words of W.B Yeats "mere anarchy is loosed upon the world " or if yo prefer "the center will not hold" words from his poem the Second Coming seem applicable to the month of March a Pisces time of the year.

Will try to find the Bikram yoga posture that helped cure my own sciatic.

Great blogs! look forward to reading much that you have written.
Kate MacDonald said…
Thank you so much! "The Second Coming" quotes are indeed appropriate (unfortunately). And it's probably my favourite Yeats piece. (If you rummage through past blog posts, you might find one called "A Terrible Beauty", although the post itself has nothing to do with Yeats.)

March continues to mock me without mercy, I'm sad to say. Would you believe that things have now progressed to a plague of boils? [I wish I were making that up.]

Reading your comment has indeed made the whole thing a little more bearable.

as long as you're here, why not read more?

wrong turn

as some of you are aware, i have a long-term project building a family tree. this has led me to some really interesting discoveries, like the fact that i am partly descended from crazy cat people, including the patron saint of crazy cat ladies, that a progenitor of mine once defeated a french naval assault with an army of scarecrows, that my well-established scottish roots are just as much norwegian as scottish, and that a relative of mine from the early middle ages let one rip with such ferocity that that's basically all he's remembered for. but this week, while i was in the midst of adding some newly obtained information, i found that some of my previous research had gone in an unexpected direction: the wrong one.

where possible, i try to track down stories of my better-known relatives and in doing so this week, i realised that i couldn't connect one of my greatĖ£ grandfathers to his son through any outside sources. what's worse that i found numerous sources that con…

dj kali & mr. dna @ casa del popolo post-punk night

last night was a blast! a big thank you to dj tyg for letting us guest star on her monthly night, because we had a great time. my set was a little more reminiscent of the sets that i used to do at katacombes [i.e., less prone to strange meanderings than what you normally hear at the caustic lounge]. i actually invited someone to the night with the promise "don't worry, it'll be normal". which also gives you an idea of what to expect at the caustic lounge. behold my marketing genius.

mr. dna started off putting the "punk" into the night [which i think technically means i was responsible for the post, which doesn't sound quite so exciting]. i'd say that he definitely had the edge in the bouncy energy department.

many thanks to those who stopped in throughout the night to share in the tunes, the booze and the remarkably tasty nachos and a special thank you to the ska boss who stuck it out until the end of the night and gave our weary bones a ride home…

eat the cup 2018, part seven :: oh, lionheart

it all seemed so magical: england's fresh-faced youngsters marching all the way through to a semi-final for the first time since 1990. everywhere, the delirious chants of "it's coming home". and then, deep into added time, the sad realization: it's not coming home. oh england, my lionheart.

now, if we're being really strict about things, my scottish ancestors would probably disown me for supporting England, because those are the bastards who drove them off their land and sent them packing to this country that's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. and indeed, shops in scotland have sold through their entire stock of croatian jerseys, as the natives rallied behind england's opponents in the semi-final. however, a few generations before they were starved and hounded from the lands they'd occupied for centuries, my particular brand of scottish ancestors would have encouraged me to support england [assuming that national football had even…