Follow-up on the last entry: my son still has his telemarketing job (such as it is); "feds" as he puts it are still searching every cabinet and drawer in the entire place, looking for "documents"; and the employees carry on with their phone calls amidst the chaos. They were told to make sure they used their official "pitch", word for word - no improvising! Mark says he only made two sales yesterday because of that.
And it turns out he was interviewed on TV, only we didn't see it. A few people told him he "looked good". Of course he did, he's my son!
The story finally made the newspapers: turns out it was a simultaneous raid in three of the offices owned by the telemarketing company, in Toronto, Montreal, and St. John's Newfoundland. It was the result of numerous complaints about "deceptive marketing practices".
It further turns out that the Newfoundland office was opened with the help of federal grant money.. from the Department of Human Resources.. which for almost a year has been embroiled in a scandal having to do with the mysterious disappearance of vast sums of money. Strangely enough, the Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister of Human Resources is none other than Raymonde Folco, the Member of Parliament for the district in which I live, Laval West. (I did not vote for her, although Hubby did.)
I find the circular symmetry in that connection strangely appealing.
In other news..
I should be starting to think about organizing a plan for preparing for our vacation; we leave in just over two weeks. This will be the first time in over fifteen years that we'll be in Florida but Dad won't (unless he makes plans at the last minute).
I'm not completely comfortable with the idea of being away from him but he seems to be stable and the kids really insisted upon going. I don't understand it.. teenagers are not supposed to want to vacation with their parents anymore. I guess it helps that friends are staying at the same place, and they had fun together last year, but I wouldn't think that would be enough.
I don't enjoy staying in closer quarters than we have at home.. our dysfunction index is inversely proportional to the size of our living area. Not to mention being (possibly) deprived of internet access. Once I'm out of the house and into the car I start to relax a bit, and I have to admit I usually end up having a good time despite myself; it's the initial effort to wedge myself away from my nest that's painful.
I didn't name this journal Inertia for nothing, after all!
Examines the history of the vacuum cleaner and the composition of household dirt; has photos and information about vintage cleaners, grouped by manufacturer; a discussion of the site owner's obsession with vacuum cleaners;
and of course, links. There's more where this came from, apparently.