Grade 13

Recently in the news: a plan to bring back Grade 13.

 

We had Grade 13 (then called OAC, which stood for Ontario Academic Credit) when I was in high school, and what I found useful about it is it gave us an opportunity for greater independence within the high-school context.

 

About three quarters of Grade 13 students were 18 years old when the school year started in September, and everyone was 18 by the end of December. This is relevant because 18 is the age of majority, students over the age of 18 weren't subject to the same rules about care and custody (for lack of a better word - I think there's a specific term for this but it escapes me).

In practical terms, this meant that we could sign ourselves out of school rather than needing a note from our parents and we didn't need our parents to sign report cards or permission slips. In fact, our teachers were not legally allowed to meet with our parents without our permission!

 

OAC classes operated on the assumption that all their students were over 18. In practical terms, this meant that if the teacher was absent, class was cancelled rather than having a substitute teacher. There weren't any parent-teacher interviews. We were expected to manage our own education and our own time like adults.

 

At the same time, the societal expectation was that we were still high school students and our parents were still expected to care for and support us as such.

 

If a parent had kicked an 18-year-old high school student out of their home, other parents - even those who would have responded positively to kicking out an 18-year-old high-school graduate - would be just as appalled as if they had kicked out a 17-year-old

 

Young people who would have responded to a peer saying "I'm an 18-year-old first-year university student and I moved out of my parents' house!" with "Cool!" would have responded to "I'm an 18-year-old high-school student and I moved out of my parents' house!" with "Is everything okay?"

This meant that we were empowered like adults to manage our education and our time, without being expected to take on the full suite of adult responsibilities like paying bills and buying groceries and managing a household. It was a sort of training wheels for adulthood.

It also helped train our parents for our adulthood. Our educational structure moved away from parental permission or parental involvement even while we were living in our parents' homes, which prepared our parents for not having direct involvement in our post-secondary education - something that's even more important today when it's even more financially difficult for students and young adults to live independently from their parents!

 

I had an on-campus job in university when Ontario eliminated Grade 13, and I noticed an immediate difference in parental involvement when the first Grade 12 cohort arrived. Parents were contacting us directly or accompanying their kids in person even for mundane things like asking how to configure an email account, seemingly without any attempt by the student to do it independently. I was only a few years older, but that simply wasn't done in my cohort! 

So if they do end up re-introducing Grade 13, I hope they take into consideration that Grade 13 students are going to be legal adults, and create a system and structure that reflects that, rather than a system and structure that has young adults spending their first year as a legal adult being treated like a child.

***

Even though my own actual firsthand experience with Grade 13 is that it was positive and empowering (and even though my own actual firsthand experience is that I felt too young for university in my first year, even though I could handle it perfectly well), I think if I were a student who expected my high school only to go as far as Grade 12, I'd find it insulting that they want to keep me in high school and living with my parents for another year. 

 

Similarly, if I were an adult who had graduated high school after Grade 12, I'd feel insulted on behalf of the youth of today and tomorrow that they'd have their launch delayed another year. 

This is why it kind of surprises me that they'd put this in a platform with the presumed goal of winning votes for an election. I'd imagine there's a significant segment of the population who would see it as completely unnecessary and perhaps even verging on punitive - especially since it has always been possible for students to keep attending high school if they aren't able to graduate or get the courses they need in the allotted number of years (historically this has been called a "victory lap".)

***

A caveat: I've noticed in recent years that teens and young adults (or, at least, a big enough proportion of the teen and young adult voices that reach me for me to notice) seem to perceive being considered/thought of/treated like a child (as opposed to an adult) as more positive than I do. 

 

They seem to feel that if you're treated like a child, you're being protected and cared for. Meanwhile, my experience - even in retrospect - was that being treated like a child meant my agency being disregarded, with no increase in care or protection. (And often, in my experience, "care and protection" was the label given to disregarding my agency.)

 

So, because of this, it's possible that today's young people might not feel liberated by being treated like an adult as opposed to like a child.

However, I am also aware that adults all too often will read or hear something about Young People Today and use that to treat young people with less agency than they should. I can't tell whether I myself am falling into that trap.

So, as with all aspects of life, the important thing is to listen to the people actually involved - today's high school students and recent high school graduates.

Can I claim to be an influencer now?

Five years ago, I blogged about the delight of having new Fluevogs and new Star Trek.

This year, Fluevog is making the uniform boots for Star Trek.

As I do for every such coincidence, I'm going to claim credit.

Knix Catalyst: a full-support sports bra that doesn't hurt!

This post is a review of a bra. The content contains non-sexual descriptions of breasts, and the links contain catalogue-style photos of bras being worn by models.

 

Three years after my very first bra-induced back pain incident rendered every sports bra I was professionally fitted with useless, I've finally found a sports bra that provides full support and doesn't hurt at all: the Knix Catalyst!

It holds my E-cup breasts firmly in place with no bouncing whatsoever, and it simply doesn't hurt my back or my ribs or anything. Despite my heavy breasts and protruding ribcage, it keeps my breasts lifted up high enough that they don't rest on my ribcage. Even if I have it on a too-loose setting (there are five rows of hooks rather than the usual three, so there's a lot of range available!), it gaps in the back and still stays snug and supportive under the underbust, unlike all too many bras that gap under the underbust (thereby making my breasts fall straight down with no support whatsoever) while still applying pressure (and, often, pain!) on my back.

I suspect the design feature that makes it painless is that all of the band is equally stretchy. There isn't an elastic at the bottom that's stiffer than the rest of the band, there are none of these things (I don't know what they're called) that are somehow stiffer than the rest of the band and consequently exert pressure in that part of my ribs. It's all perfectly even, thereby distributing the pressure over as much area as possible.

And, as an added bonus, it's a gorgeous shade of purple! (And is available in a bunch of other colours as well!)

A few things to know about buying from Knix:

- Knix products are not available at any other store. Therefore, this bra is likely not in your friendly local bra fitter's repertoire.

- Knix has its own sizing system that is completely unlike any other sizing system I have ever encountered. I am a 36E (in Simone Perele, Fantasie, Freya and Panache), and the Knix size chart put me at at size 7. However, the cups in the size 7 were too small, and I had to exchange it for a size 7+. Knix offers virtual fittings (which I haven't tried), and has stores in a few North American cities (including Toronto, but I haven't visited it).

 

 - Knix offers a 30 days to wash and wear return policy, so you can try on bras, sweat in them, wash them, etc. and return them if they don't work for you. As the Knix website repeatedly states, the bras do start out rather snug, but they loosen with washing and wearing. But even when it was snug, it didn't induce any back pain.

 

- The Knix website led me to believe that I'd be required or at least pressured to go through a virtual fitting in order to return my too-small bra, but in reality it was an automated system that produced a return mailing label instantly without any human intervention.

Overall, if you think any of Knix's products might meet your needs, I recommend trying them. The process is risk-free, the Catalyst certainly lived up to the hype, and I am definitely going to be trying a few other Knix products in the future.

If anyone from Knix is reading this, I'd love to see more bras that accommodate larger cups (quite a few of the styles seem to top out at the equivalent of a DD cup), and I'd also love to see a sleep bra made of a softer, more t-shirt-like material than the Catalyst is.

My third COVID vaccine experience

They opened up boosters to my demographic on December 20. On December 17, some of the major pharmacy chains let people in my cohort start signing up for waiting lists, so I signed up for every waiting list within a feasible walking distance. In the days that followed, I'd start every morning by checking the internet for new availabilities and calling pharmacies that were offering the vaccine but didn't have an online presence. (I made so many of these calls that I stopped being nervous about them!!) 

 

I was able to get an appointment for March 2, but nothing earlier came available for weeks.

I was starting to question limiting myself to walking distance. On one hand, I was on 35 waitlists - surely that's enough?? On the other hand, the fact of the matter is they weren't coming through - maybe it was time to take the risk of taking transit to get boosted sooner rather than waiting longer for something to come up nearby?

Then, in the first week of January, I got an email from my doctor's office (which had never emailed me in my life!) They were accepting vaccine appointments for later that week! So I called and was able to book an appointment for January 7.

My doctor's office limited the number of patients in the waiting room and had very aggressive ventilation going on. (I can't tell if if the ventilation was good enough, but there were fans and air purifiers and air blowing around everywhere. The doctor and the receptionist were both wearing gowns, two masks, and face shields. They rotated between 3 exam rooms, so each room had 45 minutes to air out between patients. 

I had to wait about 15 minutes before I was called because they were running a bit behind, but then got my shot (Moderna) quickly and was instructed to wait only 5 minutes afterwards. 

My symptoms were much milder with this dose than with previous doses. I slept normally and the injection site pain was mild enough that I didn't need Tylenol. My lymph nodes were inflamed for 48 hours, and then went back to normal.

 

My first period after the vaccine arrived 24 hours late, but other than that it was completely normal and I didn't notice any other symptoms.

Flaws in my antiracism education: educating us like children rather than future adults

If I'm talking to one of the adults who was around when I was a kid and I mention one of my racism-related shortcomings, such as the fact that I was blithely ignorant of the racist tropes contained in the media I was consuming, their response is invariably "But you were just a kid!"

 

Yes, I was just a kid. 

And now I'm not. Now I'm a middle-aged adult. A middle-aged adult who's woefully inadequate at even spotting racism, to say nothing of countering racism. 

 

And, as a middle-aged adult who's established in my profession and my community, I have (or am perceived to have) a certain amount of influence. I have no actual authority, but I can sometimes set the tone. If I say "This is a problem we should do something about," I tend to get listened to, insofar as even if they opt not to address the problem, they take seriously the fact that I see a problem. 

 

Unfortunately, when it comes to racism, I am currently too ignorant to reliably see the problems. Even though I'm trying to do the work and learn about problems that exist and what I can do about them, I haven't yet developed the ability to extrapolate from what I've learned and identify other problems that I haven't specifically read about or been told about.

If my antiracism education had led me to start thinking along these lines, maybe I'd be better at it. Maybe by the time I'd aged into the privilege and influence that comes with being an established middle-aged adult, I'd have been thinking about it for longer and have come up with some clue about how to actually make use of that privilege and influence.

My other posts in this series have been entitled "flaws in my education". This one is entitled "flaws in my antiracism education", because the other aspects of my education did in fact assume that I personally and my peers in general would eventually be in positions of authority or influence. 

 

"Leadership" was a buzzword when I was in high school. Our teachers would compliment us or respond to others' compliments of us by saying "They're leaders!" If you'd asked any of the adults involved in our upbringing and education, they would absolutely have agreed that we would eventually be in positions of authority or influence, hiring people, training people, making decisions that affect people's lives and affect broader policy, righting the wrongs of the past.

Except, apparently, when it came to racism. Then we were just a bunch of kids who couldn't possibly be expected to know better.

 

Which is an obstacle on the path to becoming adults who can do better.

Why were they willing to lock down in March 2020?

Currently, there seems to be a shortage of political will to lock down to stop the surging omicron variant of COVID-19.

What I don't understand: if they're unwilling to lock down now, why were they willing to lock down in March 2020?

Usually if you ask this, people answer "because capitalism doesn't care about people's lives."

But we had the same capitalism in March 2020. And in March 2020, lockdowns were unprecedented - I don't think most ordinary people would have faulted the government for not locking down, because that just . . . wasn't a thing that we did. And in March 2020, we didn't know about Long COVID yet. (Or, at least, ordinary non-medical people whose lives hadn't yet been affected by post-viral syndrome didn't.) And in March 2020, it was less commonly known that COVID is airborne. 

 

Even if we think about it solely from the point of view of capitalism without regard for human decency, in March 2020 we didn't have so many people out sick that it was causing staffing shortages, closing nearly half of library branches and cancelling GO Transit trips.

 

As far as the general public could tell, capitalism could have chugged merrily along in March 2020 without issue, whereas the impacts are visible and tangible and undeniable in the omicron era.

So why were they willing to proceed with lockdowns and restrictions in March 2020?

To be clear, I'm not saying that they were wrong to do lockdowns and restrictions in March 2020. Rather, I'm saying that the argument for lockdowns and restrictions is far more compelling right now, and we're all old hands at it now. We all know how to zoom and pivot to takeout-only and choose the optimal grocery pickup slots.

So why were they willing to take then-unprecedented measures in March 2020, but aren't willing to take well-established measures now?

Homebuying incentives need to come before the home is bought

From time to time, you hear politicians talking about improving housing affordability by providing tax incentives or tax credits or rebates to first-time homebuyers.

From my point of view as a first-time homebuyer who received a number of different tax incentives/credits/rebates, I can tell you with confidence that this will do nothing to improve affordability.

First, let's look at what goes into affordability. To buy a home, you have to not just actually be able to afford it, but also be considered on-paper to be able to afford it. 

To be considered on-paper to be able to afford a home, you need a combination of down-payment and mortgage that will add up to the price of the home, and you need to have this at the moment you seek approval for a mortgage, which comes before the purchase. 

Your mortgage eligibility is calculated based on your current salary and debt load. The amount of downpayment you have is determined either by having to show proof of your bank balance or having to literally write a cheque, depending on whether you're buying pre-owned or pre-construction.

And, at no point in the process, do they look at any tax incentives or other incentives that might be forthcoming in the next year.

I bought pre-construction in 2012, and the sale closed in 2017. I had about $5000 coming to me in rebates from my realtor and my developer (which I received when the sale closed), and further $5000 in tax credits/rebates/incentives (I forget exactly how they were classifed), which I received in spring 2018 after doing my 2017 taxes.

But affordability was calculated at the moment I committed to the purchase in 2012. I had to get a mortgage commitment letter from a bank, which looked at how much money I had immediately on hand to use as a downpayment, and then plugged my income (and, possibly, my debt - I didn't have debt at the time so I'm not certain) into a mortage calculator to determine how much I could afford on paper.

They didn't look at and didn't care about these rebates that were coming to me. If the bank's total of what they thought I could afford had been $10,000 short of the condo's sale price, they wouldn't have cared if I pointed to the rebates that were coming to me. They had no mechanism to plug the rebates into the spreadsheet they used to determine affordability, which, ultimately, meant that these rebates did nothing to make a home more affordable to me. If that $10,000 had been make-or-break, it would have come too late in the process to make the difference between not being able to buy a home and being able to buy a home.

If governments want to provide incentives to make homes more affordable to first-time buyers, any measures they implement need to come into effect before the point at which affordability is calculated. That might mean delivering the incentive payments earlier. That might mean making mortgage lenders change how they calculate affordability. That might mean fixing the economy so that ordinary people with ordinary jobs can afford ordinary homes with no drama. 

But, in any case, a tax rebate over a year after the sale has closed isn't going to improve actual in-real-life affordability. Incentives to improve affordability need to be in the buyer's hands a the moment affordability is calculated.

If your bra elastic is too tight, stretch it over the back of a chair

I'm having my bra-induced pain issues again. The resulting product reviews, philosophical ponderings and emotional braindumps are forthcoming.

 

But, for the moment, a practical tip:

 

If the band elastic of a new bra is too tight, stretch the bra band over the back of a chair. 

 

Line up the sides of the chair with the sides of the bra, slip the (closed) bra over the back of the chair like you're pulling a shirt over a person's head, and leave it there until you wear it next.

After just one round of stretching, a bra that induced pain after 10 minute became wearable for an hour. After a couple more rounds of stretching, I could get 4 hours out of it - which is long enough for 90% of times I might need to leave the house in non-pandemic conditions and 100% of times I might need to leave the house during pandemic conditions. I've even been able to get 8 hours without inducing new pain into my back, although the situation was not completely devoid of discomfort. (In other words, any unpleasantness disappeared as soon as I undid the bra, rather than sticking around for days afterwards.)

Stretching the bra does, well, stretch it out, as though accelerating the natural wear and tear that would happen over the course of months. But - especially when you're looking at a three-digit price tag - a stretched-out garment that functions is vastly superior to a like-new garment that induces pain.

My voting by mail experience

Elections Canada posted the final candidates list for each riding on September 1. Based on this information, I figured I don't expect anything to change before election day, so I decided to vote by mail.

To vote by mail, you need to include a picture of your ID. A scan of my Ontario Photo Card worked, even though the card had expired during the pandemic. (Ontario decreed that ID expiring during the pandemic is still valid.) I'm not able to independently assess any better than you are how safe sending a photo of your ID over the Elections Canada website may or may not be. 

(Weirdly, gender is also a required field on the application for a mail-in ballot)

.

I sent in my application late at night on September 1, and by noon September 2 my status on the Elections Canada was "Registration status: Accepted. Voting kit sent".

 

The voting kit was waiting for me in my mailbox on September 7, alongside my voter registration card.

The voting kit doesn't contain a ballot with the names of all the candidates in your riding. Instead, it contains a blank card for you to write the name of the candidate you're voting for, meaning you're responsible for looking up the candidates' names yourself.

(Journalism Wanted: how much leeway do the people counting the ballots have regarding misspellings, etc.?)

You put the card with the name in one of the envelopes provided, then put that in a second envelope bearing identification numbers, which you sign and date. Then you put that in a third envelope bearing the address of the local Elections Canada office and prepaid postage. 

I put my ballot in the mailbox at some point on the weekend of September 11-12, and the status on the Election Canada site changed to "Complete ballot received" on September 15.

 

Then, just minutes after I got that update, one of the candidates on my riding resigned. So much for "I don't expect anything to change before election day"!

The mysterious missing verses of The Tottenham Toad

Some snippets of a children's song popped into my head recently, starting with "The Tottingham Toad went hopping down the road..."

So I googled around, and the internet is unanimous about the lyrics:

The Tottenham Toad came trotting down the road 

With his feet all swimming in the sea 

Pretty little squirrel with your tail in curl 

They’ve all got a wife but me.

Here's the weird part: the internet says that this is the whole song, but I clearly remember it has having three verses! I distinctly remember other lines from the song, and there is no record of them on the internet.

I remember the following lines:

- "The Wimbledon Whale he stood upon his tail" 

- "The Canterbury Crow said 'Now I have to go'"

- "As he drank three cups of bread and tea"

- "It's so sad it fills me full of glee" 

- "Lazy little lynx she just sits and winks"

And zero of these lines appear on the googleable (or duckduckgoable or bingable) internet!

I'm particularly confident about the "lynx" line because Child!Me had never heard of a lynx, so I wouldn't have made up or misremembered in the direction of something I'd never heard of. Wimbledon might be wrong, because Child!Me had heard of Wimbledon and therefore might have interpolated it into the lyrics.

 

Has any other human being in the world heard these verses, or are they completely lost to history?

My second COVID vaccine experience

My first vaccine was AstraZeneca, administered at a local Rexall. At the time, I was told to wait patiently and Rexall would contact me for my second vaccine.

However, the rules changed in the interim, so, when I was 8 weeks after my first dose, the current protocol was to find your own second dose.

I put myself on all the pharmacy waiting lists in my area, and tried the Ontario vaccine booking system (which is how you book Toronto Public Health clinics) several times a day. Unfortunately, the vaccine booking tool initially wasn't able to meet demand - I kept getting the walking man or error messages or no appointments available, and on the rare occasions when there was an appointment somewhere I could plausibly get to, the appointment would disappear by the time I clicked through.

Finally, after a week of vaccine-hunting (i.e. 9 weeks after my first shot), I was able to secure an appointment at the Toronto Public Health clinic in my neighbourhood (North Toronto Memorial Community Centre) for 11 weeks after my first shot.

There was a pop-up clinic for which I was eligible 2 days before my scheduled appointment (I didn't go because I'd rather attend a scheduled appointment just a couple of blocks from home than go all the way out to Dufferin to wait in line in the rain), but none of the pharmacies came through with an appointment before then.

***

I arrived at NTMCC at the appointment time, and was greeted by firefighters (I don't know why either) who offered me hand sanitizer, asked if I had an appointment (although didn't verify it), and instructed me to get out my health card. 

Then I walked into the building, and passed through a series of people who scanned my card and/or asked me screening questions. There was a long line (indoors, masked, social distancing stickers on the floor), but it was moving steadily.

 

They were offering Moderna to age 18+ and Pfizer to age 12-17. They made very clear at every point that I'd be getting Moderna that day. 

 

I passed through about six different checkpoints each doing different screening before I arrived at the table where I was injected with the actual vaccine. The needle went into my arm about 15 minute after my scheduled appointment time.

The nurse who issued a vaccination gave me a card indicating the time I was allowed to leave, then I was then sent to a recovery area to wait out my 15 minutes. It was a separate room with physically-distanced chairs for patients to sit in. There was an optional questionnaire about social determinants of health to fill out while we waited.

 

There was a large clock on the front wall of the room, and when the time indicated on the card the vaccinating nurse gives you has been reached, you can go to the desk at the front and check out. The vaccine receipt is issued when you check out (meaning if you sneak out early, you won't get proof of vaccination). I think they might also validate parking or something - they asked me if I'd parked in the underground garage, but since I'd walked I don't actually know where that line of inquiry was going.

 

I left the clinic 32 minutes after my appointment time, and 17 minutes after the needle went into my arm.

***

Various logistics:

- I had a specific scheduled appointment time, but I don't believe they ever confirmed my identity against the scheduled appointments. I was asked if I had an appointment, but I didn't perceive anything to be checking me against a list of names and appointment times. They did swipe my health card several times so it might have happened stealthily there.

 

- All the screening questions, and the injection itself, took place in open areas where you were visible to others and it was possible to be overheard by others. There was a sign saying that modesty areas are available upon request, but I didn't request one so I have no insight into how they worked.

- The proof of vaccination I received was printed on receipt paper, and doesn't seem very durable.

- Every single person I interacted with or witnessed was actively warm and welcoming and helpful, even though they were literally repeating the exact same interaction with hundreds of people over and over throughout the day. The nurse who gave me my injection was very patient with my enthusiastic chattering about the Euro cup final. (It was my neighbourhood's first collective sports experience since the Raptors won in 2019 and I got caught up in the emotion!) The staff in the recovery room were also very patient with the white lady ranting about how the (optional) questionnaire (where you could check as many boxes as you want and fill out an "other" blank at the end of every question) thought she was white when she Wasn't Really because There Are Different Parts of Europe. (Spoiler alert: she was even whiter than me and her ancestors have not spoken anything but English in living memory.)

***

After-effects and recovery:

About 3 hours after the vaccine, the injection site started hurting, way more than I expected.

I tossed and turned all night, maybe scraping together a total of 6 hours of sleep in 12 hours spent in bed. When I finally got out of bed (16 hours after the vaccine), my arm hurt so much I couldn't lift my arm enough to wash my hair. My temperature was 1 degree above my normal (37.2 on a thermometer that normally gives me a reading of 36.2).

I took a standard Tylenol (my doctor advised me to take Tylenol rather than my usual ibuprofen for vaccine symptoms, but also emphasized that this advice is not appropriate for all patients) and about half an hour later was able to lift my arm enough to shower. My lymph nodes became inflamed shortly afterwards, and I spent the whole day after my vaccine feeling a general malaise. It reminded me of when you have a nasty cold but take Dayquil or something - no specific symptoms, but a general feeling of under the weather.

I slept 12 straight hours the second night after the vaccine, and woke up on Day 3 with my armpit lymph nodes so inflamed that I could see them when I looked in the mirror. There was still some mild but appreciable pain in the injection site, but I had a full range of motion and full use of my arm.

I continued to be moodier than made sense under the circumstances for the next week or so, and my lymph nodes gradually shrank back to their normal size during that time. 

My period started right on schedule, 2 days after the vaccine, and was well within the range of normal.

 

The Rexall that administered my first vaccine contacted me 3 days after I received my second vaccine to book an appointment. I cancelled all the other waitlists as soon as I received the shot, so I don't know how well they did or did not work.

 

***

 

Overall, I preferred the experience of getting vaccinated in a pharmacy. I felt like I had more time and space to ask questions, and more thoughtful and personalized attention. (I likely could have asked questions at the mass vaccination clinic and I would have done so if my questions had been actionable, but I felt like I'd be delaying the whole process if I took the time to ask whether the vaccine would attack the spike proteins of other coronaviruses.) However, I do recognize that pharmacies would not be an efficient enough way to get the kind of vaccine rollout we need, so mass vaccination clinics are a key component of the vaccine strategy.

I found the side-effects of the Moderna less bothersome than the AstraZeneca. Even though the pain of the Moderna injection site temporarily limited my mobility, I found the alternating fever and chills that came with AstraZeneca more disruptive, and the heavy bloating that came in my subsequent PMS week more uncomfortable.

Magic Words: "human being"

I've discovered a neat trick: you can intensify any sentence by replacing "person" (and similar synonyms) with "human being".

 

Compare: "I haven't hugged another person since before the pandemic" vs. "I haven't hugged another human being since before the pandemic."

The second one sounds a lot more dire, doesn't it?

Compare: "You used straight apostrophes in last month's newsletter and smart apostrophes in this month's newsletter. But no one else is going to notice." vs. "You used straight apostrophes in last month's newsletter and smart apostrophes in this month's newsletter. But no other human being is going to notice."

 

The likelihood of being noticed sounds a lot lower in the second one, doesn't it? (Even though, if you're really pedantic about it, "no other human being" is narrower in scope - "no one" could plausibly include dogs and aliens and AI.)

 

I love things like this, where minor changes in wording have clearly discernable changes in connotation, even though no one can explain why no human being can explain why!

Food storage containers with clip lids are extremely difficult to open and close

Latest pandemic malfunction: the container I use to store my cooked pasta broke!

When shopping online for an appropriate-sized replacement, the option I found was a "Clip It" container - a glass container with a plastic lid that has clips along the side, as shown in the image.

Clip It food storage containers

Unfortunately, it turns out they're extremely difficult to use.

It takes a lot of force to push the clips down in a way that will allow them to clip over the lip of the glass containers, and therefore to seal the lid. If I handle it like a normal container with a normal amount of force and strength, I can get a maximum of one (1) clip to clip. If I use my body weight and gravity, I can get a maximum of two (2) clips to clip. I have never, not once, been able to get all four to clip. 

I know I'm not especially strong, but it really shouldn't be at all difficult to operate a food storage container!

If you are considering buying this style of food storage container, I strongly recommend trying it out before you buy it - or, at least, keeping it in returnable condition until you're certain you can make it work - so you don't end up paying for a container that's difficult to operate.  (I made the mistake of removing the labels, throwing out the receipt, running it through the dishwasher, and filling it with food before I discovered that the lid was difficult to close, because, like, it never occurred to me that a food container could be difficult to operate!)

And if, like me, you are stuck with this style of container, I found it's less difficult to put the lid on if I do so on a table rather than on the counter. The table is lower than the counter, so I can press downwards and use my body weight, which gives me enough leverage to get two of the clips to clip and therefore for the lid to be reasonably closed.

However, it shouldn't be this hard! I shouldn't need leverage and body weight and strategy to operate a food container. And, for that reason, I strongly recommend avoiding them.

In which I do literally nothing for 4 weeks and then start doing stuff again

In April and May, I took 4 straight weeks off work, the longest vacation I've taken in my life.

I didn't accomplish a thing.

It was glorious!

I knew I could very easily fall into the trap of "Ooh, time off work! Time to get productive and catch up on stuff!" and then get stressed out because I didn't achieve enough. So I made a rule that there is no productivity obligation whatsoever for this time off. And I certainly lived up to that expectation!

I learned that, if left to my own devices, I sleep 9-10 hours every night and become extremely nocturnal.

I learned that, if left to my own devices, the amount of stuff I get done in a day is about equal to the amount of non-work stuff I get done on a work day.

I learned that it is literally impossible for me to keep up with all the Good Omens fanfiction being written, even if I do nothing else all day.

I learned that my system is in fact unsustainable - even if I weren't working, I would fall behind. I don't yet know what to do with that or how to change it.

 

I also learned that, in the absence of obligations or when I otherwise don't know what to do with myself, I default into following my system, so it would probably serve me better to come up with a replacement system than to just go systemless.

I learned that, emotionally and intellectually, I don't need to work. I didn't find myself missing employment or productivity or translation. I didn't end up translating random internet texts just to scratch that itch. I'm perfectly fine being completely unproductive and contributing nothing to society. (It would certainly have been interesting to do this experiment before my head injury and see if the results were the same! But I didn't know my head injury was coming - if I had known, I would have just stayed in bed to avoid fainting in the first place).

But, unfortunately, money is irritatingly finite and the most reliable way for me to make the money I need is with the job I currently have, so back to work I went.

I found that working is not particularly difficult, but it is irritatingly time-consuming. Every day there's some soupçon of frustration that it takes a non-zero amount of time to do my day's work. 

However, my experience with doing so little in a day when I was on vacation makes me less frustrated with how little non-work stuff I get done on a work day. Why on earth should I get more done on top of a full day's work than I do in the middle of a month off work in the middle of a pandemic when I have literally nothing else to do? I guess now I'm just . . . a person who doesn't get much done.

And maybe eventually I'll figure out how to work that into a new system.

My COVID vaccine experience

I signed up for the Rexall and Shopper's Drug Mart vaccine waiting lists in early April, then signed up for the waiting lists every other local pharmacy offering the vaccine on April 20, when the province extended availability to age 40 and up.

On April 24, I received an email from Rexall offering me an appointment for AstraZeneca at the Yonge Eglinton Centre location, which is right across the street from me. There were appointments available during the next two days, so I booked an appointment for April 25.

The store was not crowded at all and there were no other customers in the pharmacy area when I arrived. The pharmacist was right there at the counter when I arrived. He checked my health card, then took me into a small consultation room beside the pharmacy counter. The room was small enough that I'm not sure whether or not we were six feet apart. The room had a door that closed, but the pharmacist didn't close it and I didn't ask him to. We were both wearing masks. I didn't ask the pharmacist if he was vaccinated himself, but pharmacists I know socially who are administering vaccinations are vaccinated themselves.

I had a lot of questions (about the vaccine, about what happens next, about the statistically-low but highly-mediatized risk of blood clots) and the pharmacist very patiently answered them on my intellectual level, using his own professional knowledge and insight rather than simply parroting talking points. 

One of the screening questions was whether I was allergic to polyethylene glycol and I'd never knowingly encountered it, so we had some discussion about where I might have encountered it before. The pharmacist's research aligned with mine, concluding that I've almost certainly encountered it somewhere but it's difficult to pinpoint where exactly. I asked the pharmacist about what would happen if I did have an allergic reaction (it would happen during the 15 minutes that I was supposed to sit and wait in the pharmacy and he was equipped to take care of me if it happened), so I made the informed decision to get the vaccine despite not knowing for certain that I wasn't allergic. The pharmacist did not pressure me either way.

The needle itself was unremarkable. There was a bit more blood than usual on the bandaid when I removed it the next morning, but it wasn't disproportionate. 

I sat in the waiting chair for 15 minutes, during which the couple after me in line had their vaccinations. I could hear their conversations with the pharmacist from my seat, the content of which was a subset of the content of my own conversation with the pharmacist. No one involved made any effort to close the door or otherwise give them privacy from me. We then had a bit of a socially distanced "YAY, we're vaccinated!" squee at each other, and I left when my 15 minutes were up with a hard-copy vaccine receipt in hand.

Rexall didn't automatically schedule me for a second dose appointment (they said they'd only be guessing at scheduling and availability given the 16-week dose interval and would likely have to reschedule anyway), but they said they'd email me with information about my second appointment closer to the time in question.

I went to bed 7 hours after receiving my vaccination, but didn't fall asleep right away. One hour later (i.e. 8 hours after my vaccination) I started shivering violently, to the extent that my hands were shaking as I tried to retrieve an extra blanket and drink a glass of water.

My body then started alternating between fever and chills, as though I was in a whirlpool tub where every individual jet randomly switched between producing water that's too hot and water that's too cold. 

I tossed and turned all night, sleeping no more than 6 hours over a total of 11 hours spent in bed. Then I got out of bed and had a slow, unproductive day, treating myself as though I had a flu while alternating between fever and chills. My temperature ranged from 35.1 to 38.1, on an oral thermometer that normally gives me a reading of 36.2.

About 20 hours after the vaccine, I tentatively felt like I might be improving. I went to bed and slept 12 hours that night, then woke up feeling very close to normal. My neck lymph nodes were very active in the second day post-vaccine, and my armpit lymph nodes were very active in the third day post-vaccine.

As I'm writing this, I'm 26 days post-vaccine, and have no signs of blood clots.

 

***

Because so many people have reported menstrual effects after their vaccine, I'm going to describe my first menstrual cycle after the vaccine in some degree of detail. If you're not here for that, skip to the next row of three asterisks.

I'm 40 years old and take birth control pills. My periods are like clockwork on the pill, so any change, however minor, is normally medically significant. When I'm not on the pill, my periods are heavy, debilitating and unpredictable.

I didn't menstruate in the immediate aftermath of my vaccine, but I'd just finished my regularly scheduled period so my uterus would have been empty. I did feel moodier than usual in the approximately 2 weeks that followed the vaccine in a way that's comparable PMS, and it's possible that my bowel movements were like those I'd experience during my period. 

In the days that led up to my next period, I was more bloated than I've ever been in my life. Even when I was hungry and my stomach was grumbling, my belly was visibly protruding and I had a feeling of fullness unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.

In the few days that led up to my period, my discharge had a reddish tinge. This wasn't the same as spotting; with spotting there are random bits of red or brown, whereas this was more like if a small amount of red had been evenly distributed in the white/clear discharge.

Also in the days leading up to my period, I experienced what might have been menstrual cramps in various places in my abdomen. It was difficult to tell whether the feeling was menstrual or digestive, but it's always been difficult for me to tell during unregulated periods whether what I'm feeling is menstrual or digestive. (This is exacerbated by the fact that I often do in fact have a bowel urgency during my period.)

On the Sunday of my period week (I'm on a Sunday start cycle) I started spotting. I started menstruating full-out on Monday. It was heavier, redder and chunkier than usual, although not so heavy I needed more pads. By the end of Monday, the bloating had mostly deflated. By Thursday, there was only a the tiniest bit of red on my pad and I could have even done without a pad. 

(Normally I start menstruating on Tuesday without any spotting in the days leading up, have steady flow on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, light flow in Friday, and only a few drops on Saturday).

This period was nowhere near as heavy and debilitating as my unregulated periods, but it was also the heaviest and most uncomfortable period I've ever had while being on the pill. 

I have no indication that I ovulated during this cycle, but I didn't learn about fertility awareness until well after I started on the pill, so I have no way of knowing if I can actually reliably detect ovulation.

***

After I got vaxxed, I removed myself from all the other vaccine waitlists except Shopper's, which didn't have the option. Shopper's sent me an email offering me an appointment on May 1, and then another on May 11. I didn't click through on either email so I can't tell you about their process, but the May 11 email contained a link to remove myself from the list, so I did.

On May 12, after the Ontario Minister of Health paused AstraZeneca, Rexall sent me an email telling me that I'm still on their list for a second dose, they're still looking at a 16-week dose interval, and they'd contact me with information about scheduling and about which vaccine I'll receive for my second dose once that information is available.

The big stuck boat as an analogy for political disagreements in relationships

In reference to whether it's possible to have relationships with people with different politics, someone much smarter than me (and I wish I remembered who so I could give them credit) once said "You can disagree about what the solutions are, but you have to agree about what the problems are."

Sarah Gailey's excellent article "I Like That The Boat Is Stuck" provides a perfect analogy for this.

There's no debate over whether or not the big boat is stuck: it is a big boat, and it is stuck, and we are all aware of those facts, even those of us who are currently located in outer space.

Furthermore, most of us share the opinion that it's disagreeable, logistically, for the boat to be stuck. The boat being stuck is inconvenient. It's a big disruption! Nobody can say it isn't a big disruption. None of my distant relatives will get into arguments on The Face Website about whether or not the stuck boat is making a nuisance for lots of people. I like that.

We all agree that it's stuck, and we all agree that this is a bad thing. We might disagree about how best to get it unstuck. We might disagree about the amount of sacrifice that is reasonable to get it unstuck.  We might disagree about whether the other ships waiting to use the canal should keep waiting patiently or should detour around Africa. We might disagree about how to prevent similar problems in the future.

 

And we can have a civilized disagreement about that. We can, in fact, agree to disagree and go about our lives. If any of us are actually involved in unstuckening the ship, we can use the approach that we think is best, or pitch the approach that we think is best to our bosses. We can use multiple approaches in parallel. Ultimately, we're all on the same side.

 

But imagine that there's someone out there arguing that the ship isn't stuck. Or that the ship should be stuck. Or that more ships should be stuck. Imagine that, instead of discussing whether we should bring more diggers to dig the ship out or more tugboats to tug the ship out, they're bringing in diggers and tugboats working to get the ship even more firmly stuck.

That person is harder to get along with, aren't they?

Now imagine if, instead of a ship on the other side of the world, the problem is something more immediate, something that threatens your survival or safety or bodily integrity, or that of people you care about.

To use the example that's at the forefront of everyone's mind, you're trying to keep people safe from the virus, and but there's someone insisting the virus doesn't exist and advocating for activities that will spread the virus. 

They're just . . . in the way, aren't they?

If they're someone you already care about, you might feel it's worth keeping them in your life despite the fact that they're in the way. Or you might not. But if they're a new person, there's really no point in bringing them into your life if all they're going to do is get your boat more stuck.

Things They Should Invent: filter online shopping products by weight

Latest pandemic malfunction: my 18-year-old TV finally gave up the ghost.

I bought a new TV easily enough, but it's a bit too big for my existing TV stand. So I'm shopping for some kind of TV stand or table or cart or something to put it on. 

Problem: the products that catch my eye keep being heavier than I can lift. 

Under normal circumstances this isn't so much of a problem. Normally, we can have furniture delivered. Normally, it's not a huge imposition to ask someone to pop by and help me move or assemble something. 

But during a global pandemic, this isn't an option. My building's pandemic rules prohibit delivery people from coming up to apartments, instead telling them to leave the deliveries at the concierge desk and residents will bring them up. My building's pandemic rules also prohibit visitors, and public health rules are also telling me not to have contact with other households. (Sometimes public health rules let single people bubble with another household, but there are zero people in my life whose risk factors permit visiting me and aren't already bubbled with another household.) So during the pandemic, I'm limited to what I can lift myself and assemble myself.

Online shopping sites could help me with this by letting me filter products by weight, so I only see those that are light enough for me to bring up to my apartment myself and assemble myself.

The websites already have this information - it tends to be listed right under dimensions.

The websites already let you filter by various variables, such as price and size. I can already tell the website "show me all the TVs under 35 inches", so why not "show me all the TV stands under 40 pounds"?

Building on this, they really should let you filter by any characteristic that is listed on the site. Country manufactured, inseam length, number of USB ports, anything. People have all kinds of oddly specific requirements, so, especially in this pandemic era where more shopping is being done online than ever before, why not let us pinpoint exactly what we need?

The Toronto Star should print URLs next to QR codes

During the pandemic, I've been reading the epaper versions of the my newspapers rather than getting my usual home delivery, and I've noticed an annoyance: links to further information on the Toronto Star site are provided as a QR code, without a corresponding URL provided.

This is an annoyance by itself in the print version, because it only gives you the option of opening the link on a mobile device, even if you'd prefer to read on a computer.

But it's all the more annoying in the epaper version, because epaper readers are already reading on their preferred device for reading a newspaper electronically! If I'm reading on my computer like I usually do, I could, theoretically, grab my phone and scan the QR code. But what if I was already reading on my phone? Surely there are many households that don't have extra mobile devices just sitting around unused for every time you want to click a link!

If the Star would simply print URLs next to (or instead of) QR codes, everyone could access the links by the means most convenient to them, thereby maximizing the number of eyeballs on the Star's website. Using the QR code alone is inconvenient to many and impenetrable to some. There's no reason not to continue printing URLs, like they have since the advent of URLs.

The mystery of the semantically null Amazon reviews

I was recently researching a potential purchase and reading a lot of Amazon reviews to do so, because Amazon had the most reviews for the most different products.

 

And I discovered something really weird: five-star reviews that aren't actually positive reviews of the product, and very often provide no information whatsoever.

 

Examples: "I bought it as a gift from someone else." "I haven't received it yet." "I haven't tried it yet but I'm sure it's fine."

 

Why would you write a review like this when you could just . . . not?

 

 

Then the universe provided me with what might be the answer!

 

I try to avoid Amazon whenever possible because of their labour conditions, but I ended up ordering a couple of products there because I couldn't find them anywhere else. 

Each of these products had a card inserted in the packaging saying the seller would give me an Amazon gift card if I wrote a review of the product, and sent them an email with the order number and a link to the review.

One offered me a $10 gift card for a review of a $25 purchase, and the other offered me a $15 gift card for a review of a $35 purchase.

 

I can certainly see how this might incentivize people to leave a review even if they have nothing to say!

I didn't leave any reviews so I don't know if they actually send you the promised gift card. (Apparently my sense of "I don't want them to win!" is worth more than $25 to me.) I don't know if they only give the gift card for a five-star review (the cards didn't say anything to that effect) or if these semantically null reviewers think Amazon is like eBay and sellers will be penalized for reviews that are less than five stars.

But, in any case, there's something very, very wrong with the system if sellers are incentivized to turn over 40% of the purchase price in exchange for a review!

My 2021 new year's resolution

 I hadn't been planning on making a resolution, but a simple and useful one came to me a couple of weeks ago:

While the coffee brews, I'll do something I've been procrastinating.

Normally, while the coffee is brewing, I stare blankly at the internet doing nothing - after all, I can't do anything productive when I haven't had my coffee yet!

So now, instead of doing nothing, I'll do something I've been procrastinating. Something small, because it doesn't take that long for coffee to brew. Empty the dishwasher. Break down a cardboard box for recycling. Make an online purchase.

Since it doesn't take very long for coffee to brew, I might not finish my task. I might just empty one rack of the dishwasher, or just manage to remove the tape from the box, or just add one item to my cart. That's okay. I can stop when the coffee is ready. Or I can keep up the momentum, whatever feels right in the moment.

This works well for me for several reasons:

1. I respond well to "sprints" - working full-out at a task until some external phenomenon interrupts me. (Yes, I've heard of the pomodoro method. No, it hasn't solved all my life problems.) Coffee brewing time is the perfect length for a sprint.

2. This doesn't require any additional time commitment. Not even the infamous "just 15 minutes a day!" Coffee brewing time was previously unused dead time, and I've found a way to make use of it.

3. It helps me address the things that fall through the cracks in my system. Some things pile up because there isn't a place for them in my system (which I never managed to figure out how to reboot), or because there isn't enough room for them in my system. This lets me make progress on those things without having to figure out how to revamp the system, or having to take the emotional risk of completely disregarding the system.

4. There are no specific "shoulds" or tacit prerequisites on my "to do while the coffee brews" list. Part of the problem with my system is I've inadvertently imposed prerequisites on myself. I keep falling into a trap of "I can't do the thing that really needs doing because the system dictates that I have to do other things first!" (Unfortunately, removing prerequisites isn't sufficient to fix the system and sometimes would bring its own problems.) But while the coffee brews, anything that needs doing meets the requirements.

I've been doing this for a few weeks already, and have made a noticeable dent in my tangible and mental to-do piles. (If you could see my piles, you'd be like "That's an after picture???" and the answer is yes, it is.) We'll see if it's enough to affect my quality of life in the long run.