Bad news...

...has been coming in droves this past week. I'm not sure how or why but bad things are happening all around me, to some of my favourite people ever.

A good friend's husband got a cancer diagnosis last week. Stage three. He's only thirty two years old, and he's going to lose his foot because that's pretty much his treatment option right now. Thankfully, it hasn't spread to his lymph or to his lungs. But it will, if he doesn't undergo amputation. My friend is being a rock, but I know inside she's a mess. Same with him, obviously.

Another good friend's mom is in a coma and might not wake up. Her lungs and her liver are basically non functioning. She was doing fine last week, and now she's non-communicative. My friend is putting on a brave face, but I know she's terrified, and I would be too. I'm terrified for her, in fact.

Another good friend had a miscarriage, not even a week ago. Heartbreaking.

My heart is aching for them all, and for their families. And I feel pretty helpless, which is worse. I so badly want to do something to make it easier for them, and yet I know nothing will. So I stand by, waiting for updates... trying not to bring it up, but ready to listen if they want to talk. And afraid to answer the phone a little, because of what I might hear when I do.

We are all getting older. Our parents are getting older. Life's changing. Is this "the thirties", or is this just an exceedingly bad start to the year 2009? ... I don't know.

I am keeping everyone in my thoughts and in my heart, and hoping for an upswing, for a good karma kickback for those who I know so absolutely deserve it. I want so much to hear something good.

"My" Barn

This is the barn at Seneca, where I muck out stalls, sweep and clean, and water and feed our school horses Buddy, Moondrop, Bandit, Sandy and Stoney. I own coveralls!

Kiss, kiss!

Cheap and Delicious for the Single Vegetarian

How have I been vegetarian for years, and not known about President's Choice Vegetarian Chili in a can? Being in school, I barely have time to cook, and it's a lot of work for just me - so I am always on the lookout for cheap, yummy and veggie friendly options and stumbled upon this. There's not just veggies and tomato sauce in here either - there's soy protein in this little bad boy! It's not frozen, which is nice, and heats up in a whopping three minutes. I top it with a bit of shredded cheese, and add a couple of pieces of crusty bread on the side for dipping, and there you go - all food groups, covered! For $1.49 a meal! And it tastes great, leaves me full and gives me back one hour+ in my day. Thank you Loblaws.

Siroons is killing me.

Last Friday, after my week of kennel duty madness, I got home ready to sink into the couch, pour myself a of glass of wine, and pat myself on the back for getting through it all. The driving back and forth, the socializing with twenty year olds, working at the dog school, trying to get midterms studied for and pulled off was just exhausting. All of it. I had eaten dinner at my parents house, adding to the exhaustion. Walk in the front door, and there's Siris, wagging her tail. With a big giant mass sticking out of the right side of her head.

I freaked out. She looked like she was packing a golf ball in her cheek. Her jaw or teeth or something were making a weird grinding noise. She looked ridiculously, hopelessly asymmetrical. So I worried all night, hoped it was just an allergic reaction, and the next morning called the vet. They squeezed me in and told me likely not an allergy since it's not bilateral. Which I should have known but was in denial about it. They told me possible tooth abscess or mass or salivary gland infection. So they sent off hematology (blood work) and histology (tissue work) and I worried about how I would afford it all. Blah.

Today I got a call that it's a "submandibular granuloma", that they think we can treat with anti-biotics. They said usually caused by a foreign object getting in there and a resulting infection. So, that's good news. The antibiotics they gave me when I took her in seem to be working, I can still feel the hard mass, but the swelling is barely noticeable. She's on FOURTEEN pills a day now, between these and the ones for a skin infection she's had forever. My old girl is slowing down so much. I am terrified of losing her. She just limps along beside or behind me, tail still wagging, ears still looking goofy. I wish she could talk to me so much. She whimpers at the cat, and sticks to me like a shadow. She is trying to pretend to herself that she's not getting old. But she is getting old. Sniff.

I sure hope she stays healthy and strong - I can't imagine my life without her. Taking her back for a re-check tomorrow and they might add another antibiotic. Yikes. We're going UP from fourteen pills a day.

The mutters appreciates any good vibes from cyberspace.
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*edit* I just clicked on the photo to enlarge it so you can read my annotation, and noticed that in the background you can see Senor Snuggles peaking out at Siris from the dining room, plotting, and his eyes both hit the flash so that he looks like a demon cat. Awesome.

Oh, the maturity!

Some neighbourhood prankster who thinks he's oh-so-clever has been defacing all the No Exit signs in my area. (Yeah, I said "he".) Not exactly sure what this genius is trying to tell the good people of Forest Hill, but I for one am getting sick of seeing his handiwork every time I take the mutters out for a walk.

Damnit! (Roommate Search Continues...)

So I finally met someone decent who came to look at the apartment. After the crazy religious medical student lady came a couple of completely trashy flakey ladies, who both thought the room was too small for all of their stuff. And I was kind of losing hope and getting broker by the second, after them. But next came a pretty cool girl who came to look at it. She asked me what my pot policy was, pretty much. She had a cat that she wanted to bring with her. She had furniture that would fill my areas of furniture emptyness/weakness. It was all so delightfully easy. But moving your single cat into a home where there's a cat and a dog - well, that's a big change, and not something to take lightly. So today I got an email from her saying she wanted to find somewhere that her cat would be the only pet. Boooourns.

Back to the drawing board, I guess. I have another girl with a diabetic cat in the horizon somewhere. She's out of town on business this week so hopefully she gets in touch when she gets back and doesn't flake out all Craigslist-style. So many flakes. Free advertising sucks. Toronto Cat Rescue posts on there sometimes and now that I'm their Volunteer Coordinator, I get to deal with my fair share of Craigslist crazies.

Anyways, cross your fingers for me that woman-with-diabetic-cat is not a flake, and falls in love with us and with the apartment.

Also, think good thoughts for me making the drive out to good old King City this week. No ice-patches. No snow. No freezing rain. Think safe and uneventful. Three weeks to reading break.

Heart Shaped Dog Biscuits

We're doing a dog treat bake-sale at school, where the funds go to the animals, so this weekend I began my foray into homemade dog treat baking. These ones are to combat doggie-breath and have mint, parsley and activated charcoal in them to accomplish this. To my surprise, they actually came out okay. Siris got to eat the imperfect ones, and she loved em.

2 cups brown rice flour

1 tbsp activated charcoal

3 tbsp vegetable oil

1 egg

2/3 cup milk

1/2 cup chopped parsley

1/2 cup chopped mint

Preheat oven to 400 degrees fahrenheit. Mix flour and charcoal. Add oil and egg. Mix. Add milk. Mix. Add mint and parsley. Mix. Drop onto greased cookie sheet. Bake for 12-15 minutes. Voila! Done! Store in sealed container in the fridge for maximum freshness!

I tried to roll my dough and use cookie cutters, which happened with only moderate success, but each batch is looking better. Happy early Valentines Day, doggies!

Fun times in the Vet Tech program

This week in one of my labs, one of my professors devised a game called she dubbed 'Basophil Boot Camp'. She distributed cards to the class - a blue card for "Basophil", and a red one for "Not A Basophil". And then we spent a good half an hour going through a powerpoint presentation she'd prepared - we'd all look at an image and then have five seconds to hold up a card depending on what we thought of the leukocyte on the slide. Basophil or Not A Basophil?

Cell identification - exciting stuff. When most of the class got the answer right, our professor would break out into a huge grin and say "Yaaaaaaaaaay! That's right! That IS a basophil!" and we thought she might explode with happiness. She loves her cells, all right. Her level of enthusiasm...? A little over the top, perhaps since we are talking about white blood cells here, but good for her for making it fun.

Anyway, this is an example of how I spend my days at school, and what I'm learning.

In the last week in addition to surviving 'Basophil Bootcamp' I also:

• Gave an IM and a subcutaneous injection to a Beagle cadaver.
• Manually and automatically processed an x-ray
• Correctly identified round worm eggs in a fecal float

Cooooool.

The Great Roommate Search 2009

I should have mentioned that it's just me and the kids (pets), again. Another relationship over. Starting from scratch again. It's ok - it's probably good, even. And I have learned a lot about what I will not be okay with next time, so that's something. But I'm overwhelmed. Broke, in the middle of a very demanding semester in a very demanding program, and with a couple of furry dependents no less. So, because moving just seemed too daunting, I'm going to ride out the semester here and I'm trying to find me a roommate. If they're awesome, maybe I'll stay longer. If not, I'll move us all to somewhere new in May, when school's out and I actually have a job.

So - Operation Roommate. I first used Facebook. Friends of friends, right? Six degrees of separation and all that. Which yielded a few international inquiries, but I'm not renting out my place over email to anyone. Too dicey. Next stop, Craigslist. Eeeek. Really opening 'er up to the crazies. Yesterday, a woman in her late forties came over to see the place. She is a medical student, and an ordained minister. She's taken vows that mean she won't drink, use any intoxicants and.. well, she trailed off after that, so I'm not even sure what else. She wanted to do "treatments" in her room for her clients. She wanted to share kooky hippie food. And of course, she loved me, she loved the place, she even loved Siris giving her a tongue bath. She was pretty much begging me to let her move in. I need the money, but am I that desparate? No, not quite yet, I don't think.

Also from Craigslist, I've talked to some promising people over the phone. They're going to come and see the apartment and meet the kids and I tomorrow, so here's hoping one of them is more my speed. With each person that is interested, I feel as if I'm on some bizarre roommate game show - do I keep who I have... OR DO I RISK IT ALL AND HOPE THERE'S SOMEONE BETTER WHO SURFACES? After all, it will only be the next three months of my life right? Here's hoping fate is on my side.

I need to buy some firelogs to make the place look all cozy-like, and exercise the crap out of the mutters so she's on her best behaviour for our potential new roomie at our next unveiling.

Vroom Vroom

Every three weeks or so, I'm expected to be at school at seven am for what's called "Kennel Duty". This is part of our animal care duties, and absolutely required to graduate. No missing a shift, no being even a minute late, or you'll be shot. Well, no, but your grade drops to a C the first time and you're booted out of the program the second time. Yep, for real. So no pressure.

If I'm on Small Animal Kennel Duty this means feeding dogs and cats, scooping out litter boxes, walking the dogs, collecting samples, filling out everyone's chart, and mopping, cleaning, disinfecting, etc. If I'm on Large Animal Kennel duty this means feeding calves, sheep and horses, letting them out in the pasture in the morning, bringing them in at night, mucking stalls and wheelbarrowing large amounts of crap over to the manure bin, sweeping and other fun tasks.

There's no bus that will get me to school for seven, so I've been borrowing my mom's car and driving there on the days I have kennel duty. Every time I get behind the wheel of the car I have a little meltdown: Will someone cut me off? Will I be rear ended? Will the car skid in a patch of black ice and spin out of control? Will there be construction on my regular route forcing me to take a new and scary route? Will I arrive alive? Heh, seriously.

And every time nothing happens, and I get there just fine and as I'm dropping off the car at my parents' house at the end of the week, I breathe a sigh of relief. My confidence goes up a little. I'm even proud of myself for gettin' er done. For navigating expressways, and dealing with winter driving conditions, and for stepping way out of my comfort zone. I even think that one day this will all be second nature. And then I dread the next time. Sigh.

With the holidays comes compassion...

In the busy-ness of the Christmas season, it's easy to get stressed out and irritable. The cold weather is here, the economy's in the toilet, and everyone's rushing around in a panic because there are only x shopping days left till the 25th. Well today, in the midst of the holiday madness, while walking through Toronto's snootiest neighbourhood -Yorkville- I witnessed a very upscale, well dressed middle aged lady give a giant bag of warm clothes to a homeless man. Faith in humanity restored.

More wacky college fun

My anatomy professor treated us to her rendition of this song about cows the other day during lecture. I believe it's an Arrogant Worms song (thank you Google!):

I am cow, hear me moo
I weigh twice as much as you
And I look good on the barbecue
Yogurt, curd, cream cheese and butter
Made from liquid from my udder
I am cow, I am cow, hear me moo (moo)

I am cow, eating grass
Methane gas comes out my ass
And out my muzzle when I belch
Oh, the ozone layer is thinner
From the outcome of my dinner
I am cow, I am cow, I've got gas

I am cow, here I stand
Far and wide upon this land
And I am living everywhere
From B.C. to Newfoundland
You can squeeze my teats by hand
I am cow, I am cow, I am cow!
I am cow, I am cow, I am cow!

Public Transit

One of my biggest expenses since going back to school has been transportation. I buy these lovely GTA Weekly Passes for $47 that allow me unlimited transportation on TTC, GO, Brampton Transit, Mississauga Transit, and York Region routes. Then I trek out to school each day - first via TTC to Finch Station, where I hop on the York Region Transit 88 route bus and enjoy the one hour ride to the boonies. Who knew that these little passes even existed? Not bad. Although if they made them in monthly form, and lots cheaper, that would be even better.

Still waiting for my mom to buy her new car so I can snap up her '99 Protege and cut two hours of commuting outta my day for good... but riding the bus does makes for some good studying time.

Meh.

"Meh" was officially added to the Collins English Dictionary this week. It's now officially defined as “an expression of utter boredom or an indication of how little you care for an idea”. After years in my vocabulary, I'm pretty stoked that the good people at Collins are giving it the recognition it deserves. "Meh" has finally, officially, become a real word. How bout that?

Happy Elevator & Escalator Safety Awareness Week!

Join me in celebrating Elevator and Escalator Safety Awareness Week! (Yes, really. They have a week dedicated to everything!) May your travels on elevators and escalators be safe ones, folks.

Social Dynamics

In the Veterinary Technician Program Class of 2010 at Seneca there are 97 students. 94 of them are women, ages ranging from eighteen to probably about forty, with the majority being in the eighteen to twenty three group. From the third day, I began to realize what a problem this could be. Because girls, together, can be mean. Remember high school? Yeah. So this is kinda similar.

Most of these girls are from small town Ontario - Kitchener, Cambridge, Aurora. These are the horse/large animal people, usually. Live on a farm, work at local stables, have been riding since childhood. Other girls are from GTA suburbs like Mississauga, Newmarket, Vaughan, Richmond Hill, & Markham. Lots of them work in clinics already and cop a bit of a "I know everything there is to know about working in a vet clinic" attitude. Some have exotic/pocket pets at home like ferrets, snakes, rats and talk about them constantly. A few people came into this program with a few friends, but most people - me included - entered it not knowing anyone. And, similar to high school, girls seem to make friends with other girls by deciding who they don't like and banding together against that person. Bonding over how annoying they are, which includes everything from how they speak, what they say, how they dress, how they walk & who they hang out with. If you join in the bashing, you've made a friend. It's pretty ruthless.

And this is not to say that there aren't some truly annoying people in the program. Absolutely there are. But so what? That's life. You won't like everyone you meet. Must every second be about talking about how much we don't like them? I have managed to make a few friends of the non-bitchy variety. I'm not really there to make friends, although in college one needs to have a few friends handy, since nearly everything is about "group work".

Two of my friends are immigrants to Canada and at the older end of the age range spectrum. Patricia is from Brazil. Most of her family still lives there. She lives in Etobicoke with her husband and her jack russell terrier. She works part time at a Dollarama, for $8.75 an hour. She takes public transit two and half hours one way to get to school...and I thought my commute was bad. Everyone in her Kennel Duty group thinks she is stupid and can't speak English and therefore, they hate her. Patricia is probably smarter than they are, and although she speaks with an accent, her English is just fine. She's the nicest lady, ever, and the fact that she's being bullied by rich early twenty-something students whose mommies and daddies are paying for their schooling, transportation, and living expenses makes me crazy. When Patricia and I bonded over the social weirdness that is our program this year, on a long bus ride home, I thought she was going to cry because she was so grateful that someone else understood and shared her feelings.

Derrix is from China, where he was a full blown veterinarian. Which is quite different in China, in that they work mostly with production animals like swine and cattle. Veterinary clinics, as we know them here, are pretty much non-existant. Derrix has been in Canada for only 2 years - he's got a wife, and a daughter, and they live in the Victoria Park and Finch area. Derrix's English is pretty abysmal - he translates everything into Mandarin in order to understand. He misses test dates, and other important announcements, because they're said too fast for him to translate and write down. He relies heavily on other students to help fill him in, and explain assignments, terms and concepts. When he speaks, you have to ask him to repeat himself several times - simply because the pronunciation is off and his accent is so thick. But he's out there, and he's trying. I can only imagine how difficult it is for him. He handles the animals somewhat roughly, because that's what he's used to in China. He has no pets of his own - his family simply can't afford them. He barely understands the concept of animals as companions: once, while we were together in the school's computer lab and I showed him some photos I had online of Siris, he remarked that I must "have a deep feeling" for my dog, which I thought was really cute. What an adjustment for him, culturally. Many of my classmates are impatient with Derrix, because it takes him so long to understand what's being asked, and he needs so much help, and admittedly, it can be taxing. Sometimes I get the feeling I'm going to school for the both of us, he can be so high maintenance. But I admire what he's doing, and hey, the man needs help, and it's not like it's that hard to offer it. Sometimes I don't know what's wrong with people.

To be honest, I'm not sure if either Derrix or Patricia will survive the two years. Derrix, from an academic perspective - he's not doing too well on assignments and tests because of the language barrier and he may not pass the required courses to advance in the program. Which sucks, because concept-wise, the guy knows his shit. He just doesn't know it in English. Patricia, from an emotional standpoint, may end up dropping out, if she continues to be bullied and targetted by mean girls. Her confidence is low, and I hope she'll have the strength to continue and rise above the immaturity that runs so rampant when 94 young women are thrown into close quarters.

Survival of the fittest. High school redux. Me, I'm concentrating on the learning, and on being a decent human being. Doing well academically, staying out of the drama and amassing good karma along the way are my goals for the next couple of years, and I'm gonna try to stay focused.

Reading Break

I had forgotten about Reading Break... amazing. A week to myself to unwind, hang out with old friends, look for a car and a part time job, and oh yeah, study. So far so good. Except I haven't done much of anything but man, do I need this break.

In other news, I am licensed to drive! Trying to convince Momsy to sell me her wheels on the cheap, which would be amazing.

Trying to find a part time job that doesn't involve me going back to working retail. Because, ugh, I don't think I can do it. Looking for part-time reception or administrative work, because it pays a little more and I won't have to deal with the raging public at Christmas time...as much. Really wish I didn't have to work, because with school, studying, my one day a week at the dog school, volunteering with Toronto Cat Rescue, and uh, my own life, it's hard to fit it all in. But I needs the cashola.

Doing a charity walk tomorrow for Gulu, a small village in Uganda that has been affected by a 20 year war waged by the LRA. I'm really excited about it, although I hear it's supposed to rain. Walking 11km in the rain could be a little bit unpleasant, but I'm sure I'll make the best of it.

Back to skool on Monday!

Blog Resurrection!

Oh, hi!

It seems I've forgotten to post anything in here in, uh, months. Bad, I know. But it's not like I've been doing nothing - I just haven't been writing about any of it. So let's catch up, shall we?

I moved: I don't live in a basement anymore! Yay! I moved in with the boy, and we both seriously upgraded - we have the best apartment either of us has lived in, ever, in a great neighbourhood, with lots of parks nearby for The Mutters. Aaaand, there are no crackheads anywhere in the vicinity that we can tell, which is another plus. Although we do have a downstairs neighbour that royally sucks, and we do suspect our house may have a ghost (not a mean one, though.) So, all in all, good trade-up. Apartments are much more affordable when there are two of you.

I went to Uganda. Yep, I took a two week trip to Uganda to volunteer... and it was amazing. Softchoice is doing the corporate social responsibility thing, and each year employees can apply to sit on the Softchoice Cares Board - which is a group of employees who oversee the company's philanthropic efforts for the year. So I was on it for 2007-2008, and we raised over $200K to support causes relating to bridging the digital divide. We built a computer labs in Cambodia, Laos and Nepal. At the end of our term, we got to go volunteer abroad. It was one of the best things I've ever done. I wrote a blog about it that you can check out here.

I quit Softchoice...finally. Yep, almost right after getting back from Africa. I hated dealing with the corporate politics. I hated not being able to help people who needed help, because it wasn't my job. I hated building Project Dashboards and presenting at Steering Commitees and Balanced Scorecard Reviews. I hated pretending I cared about items that were Red or Yellow. I hated spoonfeeding people what they needed to do and then getting pissed off when they didn't do any of it. I hated that I rarely cared about achieving any of my project goals. So I decided I just wasn't going to do it anymore... which brings me to the next big crazy thing...

I am back in school. I'm doing a two year college program so I can be a Registered Veterinary Technician. Because I'm clearly not cut out for the corporate world. And just because I can succeed there, doesn't mean I should. Vet Techs make next to nothing. But all of them that I know are amazing people who love their jobs. And hopefully that will be me, when I graduate. I'm going to Seneca College, and it's crazy being back in school when you've been out of it for so long. It was a big scary decision, but the plunge has been taken. Gulp.

I'm going to be a driver. I'm taking driving lessons and have a road test booked. I need to be able to drive to school because the commute to King City on public transit is fucking killing me. I never thought it would happen, but it's going to. Just as gas prices are hitting an all time high, I am joining the driving population. Weird.

So, yeah. Not too much new over here. Heh. Except, oh, pretty much everything. (except that, I'm not engaged nor am I preggers or anything, which seems to be going on all around me.)

Writing the Uganda blog made me realize how much I missed the blogging thing. So... I am back, and looking forward to sharing my adventures as a thirty two year old student in the midst of a massive career change...plus the same old Andria crapola as usual.

New Fishies