From personal

Full Time Old Job

Canada Safeway

I started with Canada Safeway 20 years ago this year.  Like all staff I started out casually but soon made it to the top wage (things were good back then).  I qualified for benefits and eventually went from no guaranteed hours and literally no hours in January and February to eventually getting full time hours 12 weeks out of 13 weeks (with a slight reduction the 13th week to keep me from getting better benefits).  The pay is good, the job is fine but I was still casual.

Two weeks ago they posted a full time position at my store.  Full time positions are really, really rare at Safeway and it was kind of a big deal because they offer a little more security but also some better benefits.  I applied.  So did people from all across the city.  I found out yesterday that I got the job and start in a new position but same old job at the end of the month.  As most of you know I love working at the 33rd Street Safeway so to get a full time position there is a great perk.  I can still be moved (this is store number 4 for me) but I have been here for six years and I really like it.

When I started at Safeway, I would call the women the who worked the day shifts and were full time, “the old bittys”.  When I told Jordon that I got the job, that was the first thing he called me.  I knew my words would haunt me.

It isn’t a watershed moment

From the Globe and Mail

There’s been a lot of discussion about the allegations of violence currently facing Mr. Ghomeshi and I didn’t feel like I had an especially unvoiced opinion. Now I do. My opinion is this: you’re all full of crap.

By “you,” I mean the people who are remotely shocked by this story. The ones who are saying that this, right now, is a watershed moment. That some collective “we” has finally had enough of violence, done by men, against women, and will no longer allow for it to be swept under the rug.

Why is now that moment? Why wasn’t it when Robert Pickton dismembered dozens of women’s bodies in Port Coquitlam, B.C., and fed them to his pigs? During the investigation into that horror, RCMP officer Catherine Galliford was told by a male colleague that he fantasized that she was one of the victims. I wonder why she didn’t just call the police.

If only there had been other opportunities: hundreds of indigenous women in this country are missing, going back decades. Don’t be fooled, their lost bodies aren’t lying in nice coffins in proper graves with their hands crossed peacefully over their chests. Unlike Mr. Ghomeshi’s alleged victims as described by the Toronto Star, these dozens and dozens and dozens of women generally weren’t “educated and employed.” That’s why they can’t ignite change, I guess.

So, this is the time to act? What was wrong last year, when Ottawa’s Mark Hutt was finally found guilty of murdering his wife, Donna Jones, in 2009? After years of obscene physical and emotional abuse, Mr. Hutt threw a pot of boiling water on Ms. Jones, then locked her in the basement. It took her three days to die. The autopsy found that she had nine fractured ribs and 29 air gun pellets in her body. Not dramatic enough to rally around, it seems.

I don’t get it. I don’t get what is known now that was a mystery yesterday – or why what was ignored yesterday is now so urgent to address. All that’s different now is that we know one guy’s name, and that guy happens to be famous.

We’ve already learned how at least one journalism instructor kept his female students from interning with Mr. Ghomeshi, slapping a Band-Aid on a festering sore. As the story grows, I’m sure we’ll hear how star power and fearful bureaucracy let this open secret grow into an open wound: be advised that this broken system is not the CBC, or journalism, or Canada – but the whole world.

One of the women who came forward about Mr. Ghomeshi is my friend Reva Seth. I met Reva when we were about eight years old, but neither one of us shared these experiences before. Think about two eight-year-olds, and then two grown women carrying their histories of violence. It should drive you to wild grief, but it’s not a secret, or a mystery.
I’m not swayed by the newly enlightened, standing with outstretched, protective arms, advising victims of violence that there’s no longer a need to be ashamed or afraid of coming forward. Let me tell you what too many have heard, and will continue to hear, perhaps forever.

I don’t believe you.

I don’t believe you.

I don’t believe you.

I remember my mom accusing me of manufacturing the memories of my abuse.  This was after she had been warned that something was wrong by someone else and dismissed it, the person had confessed to my father (who believed it must be consensual), and she had read my personal diary where I wrote about it (thanks for snooping there).  After it all came out, my parents would repeat the lies that my molestor told them as truth.

Those words stick with me to this day.

I don’t believe you

I don’t believe you

i don’t believe you

Detoxing my House

I hoard. My friend Gloria told me once it is because I can’t make decisions.  She could be right.

A couple of years ago Jordon and I tackled our basement.  I cried and wept and sobbed but in the end, I got rid of so much stuff it made my head spin.  You know what, I missed none of it.

Today I tackled my kitchen.  It has been a sore spot between Jordon and I for a year.  He wants me to toss stuff out.  I didn’t want to.  Finally I waded in and started to toss stuff.  Cups, bowls, food, and even appliances.  It all went.  Some went to Value Village but most went to the garbage.  I now have empty cupboards, a very clean fridge, a lot less junk which feels pretty cool.

The big plus for me is that I now have room for a great tea pantry now (and can check that off my life list)

I have been reading the book housedetox by Sara Burford to help me with this process.

housedetox

She has great tips for all parts of your house and when I apply them it feels pretty awesome.   

Next up is our bedroom.  It isn’t cluttered but I do need to clean out my closet.  We are repainting and redecorating it this winter so it will give me some incentive to get rid of as much stuff as I can from there.