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A friend thankless job

12 years ago, I applied for a super job. The job description seemed popire. The pay was crap, but I did not want that job for the money. I wanted this post to all the other benefits flowing from it and seemed so extraordinary.

So I sent my resume. Expected response for a few weeks. While waiting, I did a lot of positive visualization. It was during the Olympics in Nagano. There were lots of sports psychologists on TV that explained the importance of constantly visualize yourself in the future by winning, of success. So I listened to these wise advice of experts and I imagined myself in this thankless job.Job

I think I have correctly applied the method because this has worked. I had the coveted job. Yay! I was ecstatic! I dreamed the night. I thought about eating my Cheerios in the morning or swallowing my macaroni dinner. By rubbing the bowl, while walking to go to mail, emptying the dishwasher, watching the funeral of Lady Di.

I still hold that position. I think I'll work for many decades. But damn that my job is thankless!


"Hey Maxim, if we were going skiing tomorrow?" "Uh ... no. I'll skate with my friends tomorrow," she answers in a tone of c **, as if I was the last of idiots.

"Mamaaaaaan! You do not even washed my jeans? That's what I wanted to wear today!" I shouted it from the bottom of the basement like I was his only service. Because everyone knows that the moms, they spend their time waiting beside the laundry basket of clothes to a teen fell to then run the washer to make everything clean in time tell.

"Oh no, Not the Chinese pie, You always do the Chinese pie! Me, I do not feel like eating it. Make me macaroni!" Huh? Thinks she Restaurant Recipes it? Because if I had my druthers, I'd never do for supper. I have so many other fish to fry. And there, the princess does not agree with the daily menu? Pardon?

There are days when I have only one desire in mind: to resign. Fuck my job there and flee to Bermuda eating coconuts and count the number of waves at the time who come to die on the beach.

No, but it's tiring you like! They have two years, six years or twelve years, they are never satisfied, these children. It's always whining. It always grumbles. It always complains.

That one runs across the city for swimming lessons or for an afternoon with the girlfriend, we got up at night to help them throw up their Gastrointestinal, we take the time to bake homemade muffins for their lunches, that the his pay is spent in sweaters and trousers that will no longer be in six months, they pay their ski days or a movie, moms never do enough. Or what they do, they are all wrong. Worse importantly, there has never, never, never thank you in return.

Never "thank you mom, your pie is good Chinese." Never a "thank you mom to drop me your novel to come back home Lea. Never "I know you hate doing laundry, but know that Mom really appreciate that you take time to wash my clothes so that there is always clean underwear in my drawer. Thank you. "

depressing, but mostly thankless job of the mother.

Do not throw rocks at my teen. Before you look at the navel. When is the last time you told your mother that she did a great job for you?

Thanks Mom endured me throughout my teenage years, for all those delicious pies Chinese, for all these panties so washed, for all those miles made by car .. .

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dreamed

This story has just begun well, almost so ridiculous in a beauty salon! This is the story of a girl who will be put fake nails for an evening gala and chat about anything and everything with his new beautician.

"What are you doing good in life, you, to share your work?"

"Well ... not much. I'm getting anxious to go skiing."

"Uh ... Genevieve is because we are in July!"


It's just like it was born a great friendship between me and my beautician. Beast alike. Speaking of carving skis, and bump snowstorms while it was 32 degrees outside and that ordinary mortals only dream of charred marshmallows and vacation in Old Orchard Beach, I let someone into my life that would forever mark the .

At first it was just down the slopes together. Then we told our lives 14 times over a soup with roasted peppers, a filet mignon with cognac, a jar with three chocolates, the cup of our discovery of the red day. This is how we found our common ground went much further than our love of the undergrowth of Sutton and the difference of Tremblant. Too bad he

there are no Olympics kitchen because Danny is me, it would make an unbeatable team. Too bad there are no medals of honor awarded to the best friend to have for his children because Danny Clancy handily the other participants. And a chance that our bank accounts are not bottomless because all Lush earth would be empty!

Danny is friends with whom we are not afraid to go on a trip to California. It is the friend with whom it is impossible to quibble. This is the friend who is present at the funeral home as well as the birthday of my oldest.

Gradually, Dany has nestled a place of choice not only in my life, but also that of my chickens. We like so much of our national Dany my parents have made their adopted daughter and she now has a place at the family table, both Christmas Eve as birthdays of everyone in the clan Proulx.

must say it is not difficult to love our Danny. Impossible for it to land somewhere empty handed. Always arms full of surprises, both large as small. Look, yesterday morning, she came to keep my pullet layers. Well, my friend arrived with coffee for the lover and hot chocolate for my major and myself.

But it does not spoil only small gifts and surprises. She spoils us in time. When she comes home, Danny always takes the time to chat with my greatest and that's when she did not return home for bed!

Yesterday morning, while his only mandate was to cuddle my little, change the layer as needed and give drink to three hours, she took advantage of my absence to a simmering soup grilled onions, granola bars biscuits and chocolate, to do two loads of laundry and empty the dishwasher, all in addition to seeing to the needs of my baby, my preteen and my teenager. Complex enough to give! When Samuel

fed by its umbilical cord, it's been quite natural for me to love and choose as the godmother. There was nobody else to fill this role. It was also clear that Avatar on Blu-ray on a 52 inch HD.

When it's been time to expel the small out of the slot past 40 weeks, Dany we wanted to get near us, and love me. When things began to go wrong after the birth, it is what I have entrusted my greatest.

Dany is the perfect friend.

And that dream is reality for me!

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Finally here on January 3! 2011

Not Angry to see a calendar on January 3 this morning. Not at all angry. Finally

fir compost is left somewhere (I ended up being afraid to forget to water it every day. Fini pick up millions of needles around the house. Fini monitor ever my little chick on all fours for six months would therefore like to win one of these balls so beautiful ...). Finally gone!


Finally finished all the races to Christmas shows of all kinds. This year, we were treated to a musical concert, a show of cheerleading and two scout promises, all in five days (over the race to dinner, to swallow while fourth gear, not to do the dishes, run to the other side of town to cheer on our signs, to return to the fold, doing dishes, sleeping all these people then finally crashing on a couch past 22 h 30!). Good riddance!



Finally finished the long evenings spent in front of the stove, fridge, pantry, a rolling pin in one hand, a punch to the other, chocolate molds in the back pocket and a ton cookbook lying on the counter to 'mess' Christmas goodies' (the race finished at the grocery store because I lack sugar or because I forgot to buy the 35% cream. No more stressing about whether my badges will have the right texture. Finished counting and recounting the chocolates to make sure that everyone had the same amount.). Beby!


Finally finished planning my outfits for smala for all these wonderful New Year holiday (finished rubbing sweaters at 23 pm to ensure they are clean for the family lunch tomorrow. No more spending too much time looking at the bottom of the hampers of the hut the pair of tights that goes with this dress one. finished ironing the shirts of your man-love for you is it able to operate an iron? No more spending my little free time alone with a ton of clothes to fold.). Quin toé, cursed wash!


Finally finished the tight management of our lunch-dinner-dinner-parties where one had to be divided into fourteen to see all the aunts, uncles, friends, grandparents, great-grandparents who want our presence to Christmas activity. (No more endless roads that separate us from all these great partys. Gone are the huge sums swallowed up by gas retailers. Fini lack of sleep associated with these too many partys. Gone are the spread of villains microbes that take advantage of these family gatherings to wreak havoc not necessary.) Yay!


Finally finished the antics in the stomachs qu'amènent rampant abuse of sparkling wine-beer-milk-holes and the ingestion of meat pies and sugar-to-the-cream-sauce-turkey-with- Cranberry-brie-terrine de foie gras (the stress is over not to go in my pants bought for the occasion. Fini fuel to Pepto Bismol. No more taking two Tylenol before bedtime to prevent hangovers .) Finally!

Finally finished the nights are too short to wake qu'obligent, Midnight Mass, the Christmas tree counting, counting to new year (over the impatience that bringing the three hours of sleep daily. Gone are the rings that go down to below the chin. No more crises exhausted because baby out of her bedtime routine. No more hours spent in front of the mirror disguise of a sudden foundation the damage done by this lack of any time spent under the duvet.). Good deal!

Finally, along comes a much longer period of quiet for the pampering, quiet evenings, meals filled with the four groups in the Food Guide, routines, lack of headaches ...

Who says the holidays were a time to relax?

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unanswered questions

It lay in the schedule Friday for a new display on the wall. Twelve pages filled with new promises of hope project.

365 boxes filled with mostly unknown.

Because what good end the one who can predict with certainty if the Canadiens will make the playoffs, if we have this damn commission of inquiry into the construction industry or if Prozac will return to our screens. (To find out, should perhaps get their hands on the table Ouija Chantal Lacroix!)

I wonder if we will go to provincial elections. If gasoline prices rise again. Which two presidents proclaimed the Ivory Coast will eventually sit in parliament? What will happen to her and Assange Wikileaks?


I'm curious to know if there will be live on TV at the baptism of Nelson Eddy (all presented by Julie Snyder of course). Who will be the star of Quebec's most Tripp follow on Twitter. If the mayor succeeds Sevigny resolve its problem of sewer overflows.

Tell me, how many new cooking show will emerge in 2011? How many factories shut their doors in Quebec over the next 12 months? Will we finally a corner grocery King-Jacques-Cartier? How many times

Maxim miss the bus this year? Filou How Will it in English on its next newsletter? When Sam-Sam march she? Does the lover think finally taking out the garbage and Recycling when it's time?

Is my scale will show a more acceptable figure soon? Is my return to work will take place without a hitch? Can my last on the top of my laundry basket %&*$/!?(#$_+?

Maxim drain Does the dishwasher without my being obliged to lose his voice strength to ask? Is Trickster will be able to put milk into a glass without spilling three quarters of the pint on the table? Does Samuelle account sleep longer than four hours the night before it celebrates its first candle?

Dunno. Mystery and gumdrop.

And I think I do not really want to know.

I like surprises. Not knowing that an event happens such date adds to the mystery in daily life and allows me to spend better days as well.

If I knew, for example, that on January 8 my baby Clancy nights Olympics 12 hours, imagine how my next few nights would be painful. Atrocious. Hell. How much I whine every morning. How I anticipated that famous January 8. There I do not know when it will happen when I get up at night and I assume this choice of having a baby. When the nights full reach, I will celebrate. There.

is the meaning of the only resolution that I will take this year. Live my life as it comes. Without waiting impatiently to occur my wishes and my desires.

So one day I'll be able to put on pants I was wearing him to go with a globe-earth under my shirt (because then they get stuck in the knees!). One day I will return to ski without fear in my heart farts "charters" (because there just the idea of my boots on my feet because my heart rate up to 160!).

One day I'll stop being hungry all the time (because I used the floor of the expense so I go all the time). One day I'll hand over my sneakers and the relay race around Lake Memphremagog (because there just run to the kitchen to the living room takes me two hours to get over it).

For now, I will continue to swallow doses of iron daily astronomical. To me recover. Worse me up at night!

Otherwise, it will happen when it happens.

Happy New Year to you all! I wish you sun in your lives, happiness in your families and especially ... full of surprises!

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My last 33 Christmases: 0 My Christmas future: 1

This week, I was asked to recount a memory of marking Christmas special. But I'm digging through the annals family, I did not find anything worthwhile to fill in a column in a newspaper. I'm reviewing my 33 last Christmas, there is nothing worth the paycheck waiting for me for this column.

Sorry Monsieur-le-editor in chief-by-ai, but my best Christmas is not behind me. He is ahead. One who will point this weekend.

Why?

Simply because it would have taken much so that I can not see it. If so, I spent nearly Chiclets not be on the annual family photo. My mother would have been a gift to buy less. The lover would have waited for Santa Claus face to face with his new-born (at least I hope I would not have been replaced!). And I missed the flashes of life in the eyes of my baby in front of the Christmas tree.


Because if it was in 1943, say, I would not have survived my birth. I'd just died after my blood would not stop running away of my body. Cheers modern medicine!

But even in 2010, people who assist me in setting my world number three took this hot, both literally than figuratively. I tell you, it smelled swing in the house!

must say that when professionals constantly shouting and wildly: "It is vitally urgent! Hurry up! "Is enough to soak a t-shirt and not just under the arms. They understand, they all had the bitch have to complete a death certificate in addition to a declaration of birth.

At first, I did not realize the magnitude of the situation. The severity of my condition. I too busy with my oxygen mask to me royally banged on the nerves. I was also angry against those who tormented me with his legs multiple injections of drugs. No, but she could not be more careful? And so I hoped

than trying to make my uterus contract in my stomach pumping as hard as if it was operating a butter churn to go for a coffee. I really did not care because we fought for my survival. In short, I thought there was a slight glitch before.

I think I understood what was happening when I saw his eyes filled with anxiety and fear of the lover who was walking from one side to another room with brand new chick in his arms.

I think I actually realized what was happening when I asked my friend Dany take good care of my two grown daughters.

Finally, even if I filled a few pots of red liquid juice, I'm still here. Alive. I do not remember too the first days of life of Sam-Sam, but I remember I was there for her. Unfortunately, not thinking about running a marathon for me, but I'm starting to be able to climb the stairs to get to my room without feeling that the heart wants to get out of my chest. But I am here to ride, these steps!

We often hear that people are nearly die as the sun shines more. That the flowers smell better. The air is fresher in their lungs. I can not say if all these things are true. But I know this will be my best Christmas simply because I am.

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My best Christmas gift

Do not ask me what I received at Christmas last year because I can not remember. It's also nothing when I try what I was offered the year before. And do not believe what was under the tree, three years ago, has found a place in a drawer in my memory. Despite this poor performance in terms of my memories of Christmas presents, I remember very well what I received in 1982.

However, Christmas 1982 is certainly not the favorite of my parents. These are not the ones who had won the million that year. Not this year that the fridge was full of caviar and Veuve Cliquot. This is not the year that my mother ran out to the shops to fill the trunk of the car gifts.

The 1982 edition should not have to make history by those who gave me life. It was a crisis year. Astronomical interest rate. Discount coupons at the grocery store. From rabbit ears on TV. Kraft cheese sandwiches in the lunch box. Brown corduroy overalls bought on sale at the Bon Marché. Still

that with my eyes a little girl of six and a half years, I do not see any difficulties faced by my parents. I was too busy with my catalogs for distribution to consumers and to encircle the Sears Christmas red Bic pen that I wished that Santa left under the tree.


I had wanted to have new Barbie and especially the one with the red satin dress. I found that the small school Fisher Price looked very funny. There was also a small battery operated sewing machine with which I imagined myself making beautiful clothes. I dying to have the new electronic Battleships seemed to work so much better than what I already had. The worse would have been overjoyed to have the game Simon (you know, the thingy to four strokes of color where it was necessary to recreate a sequel?).

Suffice to say that Father Christmas was a lot of pressure on themselves to make the little girl I was very happy. What I could write letters. What I was able to make promises that I would be the wiser children if they brought me everything that is found on my list ...

Although I hope to wake in the morning on 25 with a ton of gifts to unpack, it was not the case. However, I made my bed every morning in December. I though the correct mailing address for my letters to the big beard. Despite my best efforts, there was only one small box under the Christmas tree destined for me. Only.

I removed the wrapping paper and I opened the gift to find a dozen blank tapes. I do not really understand. It was not on my list. What could I do with blank tapes, will you please tell me?

"On those tapes, there's music Genevieve. Well, here you have the tape of all the songs of Fan Fan Dede. On it you will find the songs of country Chanterelle. Here, I put all those Passe-Partout and on that one, there are those of Nathalie Simard. You can always listen to them whenever you want, "my mother explained to me before my sad.

For weeks before Christmas, when I was in bed, my mother would take out his tackle and copied the 33 laps on blank tapes. Vinyl records TV shows and singers that I liked that it had borrowed friends and the library. For days, she was prepared to put my gift of time and heart.

And I, for months, I went to bed at night listening to music on my little magnet too pleased with this gift so magical. So unexpected. So touching.

Even today, 28 before Christmas, I am reminded of this gift as the most beautiful. Because my mother had put all his time. His love. She would have given me the Sears catalog in full force that I would not have been happier.

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A storm in a glass ... Milk!

Last Saturday, we had paid the total and the lover me. Sleeping up to 8 h 30 (we have a baby of four months, I remind you, then 8 h 30 is really a lie) and lunch at the restaurant without the big girls in the legs, parts for the week weekend with their grandmother.

A nice leisurely breakfast then. Read the newspaper and commenting on various news of the day. In complaining about the frozen strawberries and many bad on my waffle. To laugh at Sam-Sam who has just discovered his voice and yells, but screams endlessly.

A beautiful moment. Not stressful for two pennies. Relax.

Basically the restaurant completely, I see a friend who as a baby's age Sam is also in love with her. They seem to have much pleasure all three. Looks like a layer of our table!


But now, her little man began to stir. Her smile gave way to a grimace. It's lunch time for him too clearly.

I see the friend who is preparing to breastfeed. She enters her hand into her shirt to undo the buckle of her bra. She places her baby on her thighs and comes to meet her sweater ... But at the last moment she decides not to do at the table. She gets up with his little chicken in his arms and takes the lead ... toilets!

I was heartbroken. I was sad because my friend who has decided to offer the best for her baby, is reduced by embarrassment or shame, to take refuge behind closed doors to feed her offspring. In his lovely lunch break with her boyfriend. Worse

you think it means to nurse sitting on the bowl, there are more sexy occupation?

I do not judge this mother's decision not to feed her child in public. It's her choice and what are her breasts to her.

What breaks my heart, is the lack of openness about many things. It is clear that if everyone had kept their eye on their egg-bacon-potatoes-mirror, little would have been the breast in the mouth and nobody would have made the event.

But then, this is not the case. Breastfeeding is a common practice, but some mothers dare do in public, it is surprising. And that bothers most people who do not know anything.

I'm on my third lactation. It's been more than it annoys me to breastfeed on a bench at the Carrefour de l'Estrie or before the stepfather. But whenever I do, I can not believe the number of ailments that I cause. The amount of people who approach me to watch very closely what I am doing and then throw me one of those looks monstrous disapproval.

Rest assured, when it's time for lunch from Sam, I keep a lot more than my underwear on the back. I'm like all the other girls on earth: I am fat and ugly and I do not want strangers to scrutinize closely the stretch marks that my pregnancy has left on my memory-terrestrial globe who refuses to return my jeans before. In short, I'm discreet.

But although Sam is hidden under a blanket. Even if we had a microscope powerful as those from NASA to find a centimeter of skin. Although a bit to see my breast, he would pass me by an X-ray, it irritates to know that there, under the blanket, there is a baby suckling a breast.

So I guess my friend did not want to face those eyes filled with indignation and that rather than enjoying this beautiful Saturday morning with her family, she did her job as a mom in the outhouse.

Sad same.

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risk in REITs

Those who bet a little bit to get to the SCPI Retirement usually know the true forum SCPI Boursorama. For the record, this blog has often referred to this original solution as a first foot in saving, hassle-free day, but with a nice leverage which boosts performance.

An excellent thread is currently processing the risk of this type of investment, responding to most questions I asked before crossing the Rubicon:

http://www.boursorama.com/forum-scpi-le-risque-dans-les-scpi-405333552-1

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Where to invest in 2011?




If you run away tomorrow at 15 o'clock, I suggest you click on this link .

Arnaud Raymond, leader of Eleanor Capital, chat with users about the current situation and strategies to implement in 2011. There will be enough to meditate, a priori ...

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Facebook page SCPI






short post to inform you the birth of a Facebook page dedicated to the SPCI and OPCIs:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/SCPI-OPCI-Forum-de-discussion/125057610893015

This page is hosted by investors.

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Vows determined


I'll begin this first post of 2011 by wishing you all the best, both private and professional.

Ordinarily, I describe here the reality and the worrying trend. But yesterday was the perception of this reality by our citizens that has been revealed in a BVA poll-Gallup in 50 countries. It shows two main trends:

• People in emerging markets, little affected by the 2008 crisis, is clearly more confident about their economic future than Westerners. That makes sense, after all.
  
• Among the pessimists, the French win the prize. We are 61% (against 22% of Germans) think that 2011 will be a "difficult year". We are in the top 3 countries where people fear losing their jobs. Finally, when we asked about our personal situation, we are 37% to feel worried. This seems quite low in absolute terms, but this number is larger than those of Afghans and Iraqis !

We therefore show darker than our neighbors, which is no surprise. But one can still wonder about our sanity in common, when we see that we are more depressed than people in countries at war. Maybe it is like in our real decline: in the 30s, we had the best army in the West and we had a vast empire. Formerly, our intellectuals produced ideas that were discussed abroad (eg the European idea in the '50s), it is no longer the case. Anything that remains in the eyes of foreigners, but it's a staggering arrogance unfounded. To make the table causal completeness, we add an economic crisis with mass unemployment that we are not out since 1973, but also an unprecedented decline of state capacity, then we are the land of Louis XIV , Napoleon and de Gaulle.

To come to us, paramedics, we live our own economic decline for 25 years, as I have often explained here. But this is no reason to mope. Rather it is a chance, an opportunity to develop coping strategies. I try to describe some of the past two and a half years. Presume that the current situation allows us, without thinking that our seniors were much better: the past is past. This mindset will allow us to replace the rebate by the fighting. Some will look to trade union struggles, hoping for a hypothetical common hello. Others will prefer individual solutions. One does not preclude the other. It's time for good resolutions, enjoy it!

It seems equally important to instill this attitude to patients and their families. Faced with the disease, should not be pessimistic nor optimistic complacency. It must be determined, as Jean Monnet said. This has also helped to achieve his ends.