Older blog entries for sad (starting at number 27)

I got a call from my cousin today. My grandmother died Saturday night. Life sucks. My initials are entirely appropriate right now.

The sky is a terribly briliant blue today.

We had someone register from Israel today, and another from Slovenia.

Someone pointed out/complained yesterday that I'm a better source of information about OLS than Disorganizer #1 is. Please keep in mind that while I'm just telling you about this stuff, he's actually working on it. He's a busy guy.

We're now finalizing such things as:
• hotel rooms for speakers at Les Suites
• limo services for speakers (Whee! A super stretch limo!)
• picking quotes for printing up the proceedings
• picking and designing shirts for attendees and staff

  Lots to do!

Well, we are 93% full now. That's a little over 40 places left.

Lots of mayhem happens at 1.5 months before the event. This is the time when we check everybody to make sure that everyone has paid for the event, gotten a confirmation number, etc. We sort out any billing issues. We figure out who hasn't paid for the conference, and send them a warning that their spot may be given to someone else. That usually gets their butts in gear.

We check that everyone's names are correct for the badges. (A surprising number of people submitted their names all in UPPER CASE.) Boring, tedious stuff all around. :)

In the personal realm: I introduced Willy to Sharon. Sharon is a friend of mine from the 10'oClock play group. She has a pug named Puck. (Named after the Elf in the Shakespearean play, not the little round thing in hockey.) They both had said something to the effect of: "It's so hard to meet people in Ottawa." I'm loathe to do more that introduce people to each other, for fear that they may start dating, and have the whole thing end in a fiery crash, leaving a horrible twisted mass of relationship wreckage.

You know, I will never know what posesses people to bank with banks like "The First National Bank of East Jesus." If you can't walk in and harrass a real person to fix your account problem, don't bank with them!

We have jumped to 87% full. Anyone else who wants to register had best do it damn soon. I mean it people! Don't come crying to me if you can't get in because it's sold out!

Tonight midnight is the deadline for early registration for OLS. We are, as of right now, 75% full. Lots of last minute registrations. Procrastinators!

Just a quick post script: I've been wondering why Tigger freaked out in the first place. My mother-in-law finally hit upon it I think. She suggested that he probably tried my door first, they saw each other, so he left. So if Tigger hadn't been there, he might have broken into my apartment first. Scary thought!

Hmmmm...where to begin? At the beginning then.

Wednesday, May 24 8:45 AM

My husband, Andrew, left for San Francisco Tuesday morning. I always make sure I have my dog Tigger with me when he's gone, because Ottawa, while a safe city, is still a city after all. As I was getting ready for work Wednesday, Tigger started making these whining noises, and scratching at the back door. So, I opened the door. She ran outside, down the small alley-way, and started jumping on what looked like my neighbor. As I got closer, I noticed he was hunched near his door, he looked like he was having trouble opening it. Then I noticed it wasn't my neighbor. Before I know it, he's running down the alleyway, knocking me down with his elbow on to the stone steps. Tigger gave chase for a few seconds, then came back.

The police were called, they arrived, took my statement, and asked me some questions:

"Are you ok?"  Yep.
"What time did this happen?"  8:45 AM.
"What did he look like?"   Tall guy (I'm 5 feet tall, so everyone's tall to me.) Reddish-blonde hair, freckles.  Very 
Irish looking.  Wearing jean jacket, and jeans of course.
"Did Tigger bite him?" I didn't think so.  Of course, I didn't know for sure if she'd bit him or not, because she was 
out of my sight for a few seconds.  But she's a Golden Retriever, a very friendly, good natured dog.  They asked if 
she was vaccinated against rabies, just in case.  The officer also met Tigger, and saw that she was obviously not 
vicious or any sort of threat.  

He asked other questions. He left his business card and told me that they'd be wanting to take pictures of the bruise on my shoulder later.

After the questioning was over, I went in to work. I arrived about 11:30 AM. I sat down at my desk, started to do some paperwork, and started crying and vomitting. (Vommitting? Yes. When I get really upset, my stomach does flips on me.) It was the longest delayed reaction I've ever had. This caused some speculation among my coworkers. "Hmmm...she usually only does crying and vommitting on Thursdays."

That evening I got a call from the officer, saying that he wanted me to come down to the station tomorrow. He mentioned something about a video tape they wanted me to watch, and also, they wanted to take pics of that huge bruise I'd received. He also said to bring her vaccination certificates down, and they would make copies of them there.

I didn't get a lot of sleep that night. And you can bet your ass Tigger slept with me in the same bed!

Thursday, May 25 9:15 AM

The police force is a lot like the Army, it's all hurry up and wait. All in all, it took about 4 hours to do something that would have taken normal people 45 minutes. However, the constable who took care of me had his own office that he shared with a co-worker. I had imagined it would be like L&O: noisy, dirty, and busy. Instead, it was quite clean and quiet.

They took pictures of my shoulder.

Then they had me watch a security video made by one of the neighboring buildings. Appearently, someone had tried to tinker with the locks there, only this time the building manager caught him doing it on tape. It was like watching that Fox show "America's Dumbest Criminals". It was quite funny to see him tinkering, tinkering, tinkering, and seeing the video camera. You could even see him mouthing the word "Shit" as he notices. It was the same guy. Funny stuff.

I was asked to wait some more. After a long while, the constable came in. He told me they had brought the guy in. The lineup procedure was just like L&O, complete with "Number 3 step forward." and "Are you sure that's him?" Both lawyers were there. I felt like I was on TV.

Then the officer asked if I had brought Tigger's certificate. It turns out that the "perp," (Yes, he actually called him that. I always thought it was a TV thing, but appearently not.) claimed that Tigger had bitten him. He had a large gash on his hand. Although, the officer was a bit doubtful, and said he might have injured himself when he was jimmying a door or something. (The guy also claimed Tigger was a 200 pound Rotweiller, so he's not exactly truthfulness incarnate.)

I finally got out of there at about 1:30 PM. I called the office, and told them that I'd be puttering with my begonias for the rest of the afternoon, as this justice stuff is rather stressful.

I've learned 3 things from this incident:

1.  The Ottawa Carleton Police are (I can't believe I'm saying this,) efficient at their job.  They caught the guy the 
next day.  They didn't accidentally shoot anybody.  These are good things.  This is probably why Ottawa is a safe 
city.

 2.   Everyone should get themselves a Golden Retriever if at all possible.  Preferably multiple Goldens.  
You wouldn't think they make good guard dogs, but they do.  And they're not like Pit Bulls, they're not mean or 
vicious.  You don't have to worry about them biting little children, or biting guests.  But they will warn you when 
something's not right, and even defend you if they have to.

 3. Shit like this always happens when your husband is away.  Don't know why it is, but it is.

OK role-playing time:

I'm a microsoft spin doctor. My company has just gone to court, and had a judge rule that the company was abusing it's monopolistic powers. All sorts of hell breaks loose, the judge wants to break up the company, the Media hates me, the stock price drops like a rock, my boss loses 9 Billion bucks in one day. What do I do?

I send a nasty gram to my most vocal opponents. Opponents who have a large competitor company behind them to back them up, financially, legally, ethically, and spiritually. Opponents who fervently hate my guts. And will tell the whole world that they hate my guts.

What was this guy thinking?