The Woody Project Blog

KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN

THIS BAG IS NOT A TOY

Every family has their quirks. When I was younger I distinctly remember being warned by my mother that it was very dangerous to put a plastic bag over your head. In fact, it was even dangerous to have a plastic bag anywhere near your head. My mother told me that she knew a kid when she was young who had a plastic bag over her head and she suffocated and died.

Another family I know has a myth about a distant relative (perhaps a second cousin) who was walking down the railroad tracks and got their foot stuck in the tracks and got run over by a train. This myth is so ingrained into the children that the kids run and jump across any train tracks they may come across.

Where’s the point?

Here’s the point:

I looked out the kitchen window, which overlooks the driveway, recently and saw my mother pull in from her trip to Ottawa. I could see her fussing with something about her head but I couldn’t tell what. Then she got out of the car with a plastic shopping bag over her head. Not above her head, but on her head.

You could see that the bag was rolled up in an attempt to make it into a hat. I must stress the word attempt. The bag was down over her eyes and she was stumbling from the car to the house.

Erin and I were laughing so hard that we were crying.

As far as we could make out, it was raining in Ottawa (wasn’t raining in Pembroke) and she didn’t want to ruin her recent hair-do.

We’re going to chalk this one up to a case of “Do as I say, don’t do as I do”.

At the risk of beating a topic to death, I would like to announce that I received official notification today that I am, in fact, a Chartered Accountant.

C.A. = cute ass

C.A. = ?

Can’t Add

Candied Apples

Car Addiction

Corny Answers

=) I think we should start a contest, for the most accurate definition of Ryan McGauley, C.A.

On a more serious note, sincere congrats, my friend! Quite an achievement, one that I hope to partake, once I surpass a small test this coming September. Now I can get you to notorize my passport!

So when I refer to you in the third person, ie let’s say I’m taking to Adrian (remember him? EROSION!!!!) about you, do I say “…Ryan McGauley, C.A…” or “…Ryan, C.A….” or “…Ry, C.A…”

Quite the dilemma…

Back to work!

C.A.

Today I put a very large work project to bed. Feels good, like a weight has been lifted. Now I get to jump into the other million jobs that have been piling up in the meantime.

Enough about work.

It looks like spring has finally sprung. The high today was 8 and it’s supposed to be a low of 7 tonight. As always our house is now an island in the middle of “Lake McGauley”. My dad is pumping water over the fence into our neigbour’s yard as we speak… I mean… as I type.

Today is also the 25th of March. That means that the ICAO is deciding whether or not to induct me into the Institute today.

I could be a chartered accountant and not even know it.

From now on the letters C.A. will follow my name.

“Hello, how are you? Nice to meet you. I’m Ryan McGauley, C.A.” or:

ring ring

“Good morning, Walsh Stewart Scott & Co., Ryan McGauley, C.A. speaking.

Because of my impending C.A. and the completion of a large project, I’m going to bed early.

Good night,

Ryan, C.A.

I’m having trouble posting to my movie blog. I want to see if this will post.

Pointless Ramblings of Another Accountant

I’m at work. It’s 11:30pm on Friday, and I arrived only about 40 mins ago. I left the client’s office at 9:30pm, drove home, ate dinner (mom prepared), changed into clothes reminiscent of DC library in Loo, and trekked down to the office.

Do I *have* to work all night? No, but this weekend I have family, friends, and church commitments, and I’d like not to have to come to the office. So instead, I work late Friday night. I’m hoping to leave before 6am.

I can’t wait til my weekends belong to me again.

Back to the file….

I Heart Chocolate Cake

This Sunday is my friend Chad’s birthday and as part of my contribution I decided to bake him a cake. I chose to do it from Betty Crocker (because I’m a time-challenged accoutant) and to try my hand at cake decorating.

I think the cake turned out good (haven’t tasted it yet) and the frosting job was pretty straight forward but the decorating looks like it was done by a mentally handicapped kindergartener.

This is the place where I’m supposed to say “It’s the thought that counts”.

This seems to be another posting without any point. Oh well… it’s the thought that counts.

Pitch a Fit

The client file I’m currently working on at work is slowly draining the life out of me. Every day I leave the office a lesser man.

After 3 hours of finalizing 2 very complicated tax returns, you can understand that I was not happy to find that I had made a mistake and would have to start over again. I gave a yell followed by some colorful words and then flicked my green pencil.

The pencil flew at my monitor, bounced off, and arced gracefully through the air back towards me… and then landed neatly in my shirt pocket.

Elvis, who sits to one side and facing me, started yelling “IMPOSSIBLE, THAT WAS AMAZING, DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT?”.

It turns out that I made his day.

When I started this post I thought this story would turn out to have a point, but now that I get to the end, I see that it doesn’t.

See previous entry, Ryan too tired to think properly.

ok bye

working all the time, no time to play, go to sleep now