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Nov. 30th, 2007 12:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lenora_roseI give up. Too many Christmas related things happening, the music is coming out early.
Recently:
Saw Heather Dale almost two weeks ago. More focus on Christmas material this time, which meant new arrangements and things I hadn't seen her perform before though they were on her albums. Two totally new songs, too.I can't fairly review her. I always love going.
Pottery continues apace, (I'm making small labyrinths now, while finishing the other pieces). Writing happens, mostly at a crawl; I had a fabulous burst of stuff pour out of me not long ago.
I helped a friend sell jewellery last weekend (So she could make more in preparation for the next three shows in as many weeks). Sales were disappointing, but I think the experience is helpful. As is the money, though she paid me partly in her work; one for me and one as a Christmas gift.
Work happens. Though Monday i came very close to blowing up at my immediate superior. She has a way of sounding condescending when training that exactly pushes my buttons, but which i usually put up with because, A) she knows her stuff, and B),. the rest of the time I pretty much like her. But this sometimes combines with another habit of hers, which is that she doesn't pay much attention when I ask a question, so that rather than answering my actual question, she decides to tell me how to do the whole task form scratch. (This seems to happen even if I make a point of making it obvious that yes, I *do* know the basics.)
She outdid herself on Monday. She gave me a list of addresses, with postal codes but without post boxes, for a bunch of small towns up in Nunavut. Having just been looking up the postal code for one such place, I'd noticed it did not have a "general delivery" listing *at all*, only post boxes. So I asked her if she had post box numbers or if I should just send it to the town (which, I didn't say, would presumably know where its two schools are located).
She started to explain to me how to write an address on an envelope.
She compounded this later by making a point of following me into another room to remind me of the password I've used since the day i started here a year ago.
And yet, at other times, it seems clear she doesn't think I'm an idiot.
Not much else has happened the last weeks that I can discuss in a public locale, especially that my mother reads.
Recently:
Saw Heather Dale almost two weeks ago. More focus on Christmas material this time, which meant new arrangements and things I hadn't seen her perform before though they were on her albums. Two totally new songs, too.I can't fairly review her. I always love going.
Pottery continues apace, (I'm making small labyrinths now, while finishing the other pieces). Writing happens, mostly at a crawl; I had a fabulous burst of stuff pour out of me not long ago.
I helped a friend sell jewellery last weekend (So she could make more in preparation for the next three shows in as many weeks). Sales were disappointing, but I think the experience is helpful. As is the money, though she paid me partly in her work; one for me and one as a Christmas gift.
Work happens. Though Monday i came very close to blowing up at my immediate superior. She has a way of sounding condescending when training that exactly pushes my buttons, but which i usually put up with because, A) she knows her stuff, and B),. the rest of the time I pretty much like her. But this sometimes combines with another habit of hers, which is that she doesn't pay much attention when I ask a question, so that rather than answering my actual question, she decides to tell me how to do the whole task form scratch. (This seems to happen even if I make a point of making it obvious that yes, I *do* know the basics.)
She outdid herself on Monday. She gave me a list of addresses, with postal codes but without post boxes, for a bunch of small towns up in Nunavut. Having just been looking up the postal code for one such place, I'd noticed it did not have a "general delivery" listing *at all*, only post boxes. So I asked her if she had post box numbers or if I should just send it to the town (which, I didn't say, would presumably know where its two schools are located).
She started to explain to me how to write an address on an envelope.
She compounded this later by making a point of following me into another room to remind me of the password I've used since the day i started here a year ago.
And yet, at other times, it seems clear she doesn't think I'm an idiot.
Not much else has happened the last weeks that I can discuss in a public locale, especially that my mother reads.
