Quirky

Hello readers, or absence of readers, I think you’ve gotten to know me pretty well (although I’ve been bad about updating lately, I know) but here are a few slightly unusual things that you may not know about me. I didn’t realize that these things were unusual, but I’m coming to see that not everyone works quite the same way as me.

I balance my chequebook.
Every month without fail, more often if I happen to go into my account more often. I also read through my Mastercard bill and confirm the cost of items purchased. Why wouldn’t I want to know if I was being ripped off or my card was being used without my knowledge or even for early detection of identity theft? This just seems like common sense to me.

I declare my bank interest on my taxes.
No one else I know does this. It’s interest earned, even if it is only two bucks a year. I know it doesn’t affect the overall totals, but it’s just being accurate.

I declare everything.
Yes, everything. I went to Cuba a few months ago (which was fantastic, by the way) and every night I carefully added to my list of items purchased and their individual costs. On the plane, when filling out my declaration, I carefully tallied them up, did the conversion from Cuban convertible pesos to Canadian dollars and filled in my total as my friends looked on incredulously. I also indicated that I was bringing in items containing dairy (chocolates) and wood products (a carving) and that my two bottles of Cuban rum were technically a larger volume than is allowed (1.4 L is allowed, two 750 mL bottles is 1.5L. Whoever made that rule is just dumb). This resulted in ridicule from my friends and having our carving inspected by Canadian customs (it was fine). Never mind the fact that I accidentally smuggled cheese back into the country (which I promptly ate upon realizing that I had). Mmm…cheese…

I read the fine print.
I can’t believe that not everyone does! Why would you sign something without knowing what you are agreeing to and where your information goes? This practice also led to me finding the following gem in the Quicken License Agreement: “You agree and certify that you are not a citizen or permanent resident of the following countries: Cuba, Iran, North Korea, Libya, Sudan or Syria.” Isn’t that odd? Is it in all software licensing agreements or just those where portions of the company are in the US?

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I guess the writing juices are finally flowing again as November and NaNoWriMo approaches. I was incredibly burned out last year after NaNo and Holidailies and finally feel like I'm recovering a bit. Hopefully this year will not lead to my annual blog name and location change, yet again.

August’s exciting news was that Paul was finally done school. This was extra exciting because we both thought he had 4 months left.

In that time, I’ve gotten used to Paul being home. Tonight he is out at a friend’s house and I have gone into the bedroom twice looking to cuddle up with him (he often goes to bed before me and I visit him sometimes when I get lonely). I was playing with my new Quicken Cash Flow earlier and I was just so excited about it (yes, I’m a dork) that I wanted to tell him how pleased I was with our decision to shell out 40 clams for it (are those two expressions related? I wonder…) and both times I suddenly realized with a sense of deflation that he was…not here.

This is like having a honeymoon a few years too late. Being able to just hang out together on the couch without him having a splitting headache or the computer on his lap, although more often it was just me in the apartment doing the housework after work while he was at school until 11 pm. Every so often I just want to yell out to the world “Look! I have a husband! He’s real and he lives with me! See, I told you so!” Not that I need a husband for my self-identity or whatever, I’m just proud of him and the fun and quirky relationship that we have built together.

It’s nice to come home after work (or more often, after my many medical appointments) to find him cooking dinner, or watching TV, or doing dishes, or playing a video game rather than to yell, “Honey, I’m home!” to an empty apartment (and our doped up neighbours).

Gee, aren't you all glad that you waited this long for an entry? Don't worry, I plan on doing Holidailies again this year.