Sunday, February 29, 2004
5 cents a minute
You called this morning and I reached out from the cocoon made by the comforter and a snoring dog to grab the phone, waking to the sound of your voice because you always were the early riser to my stayinbed ways. I told you that last night I missed you so much I couldn't breathe and we laughed about that, because we both know that if it were more than a passing thought, I'd be there and not here. That, in fact, I wouldn't have left you at all eight years ago.It's a little hard to grasp, the idea that it's over between us. I thought it would work out and sometimes I forget that it did. That this is how it worked out. And that time and distance have made us both okay with that because we're still each other's best friend, and for some reason, we like it better that way.
And next month, circumstances aside, I get to visit. It's been far too long since I've seen you and maybe that's why I missed you.
lyric at post:
..and something somewhere that you said goes ricochet all through my head..
afternoon
Someone found me today by doing a search "man around a cheeseboard". That's just...strange.I just reread yesterday and didn't like it. That, too, is strange, but it felt all mad or sad. Which I most assuredly wasn't. So, I've relegated it to draft. Cause I can. Go, me, arbitrarily deciding what I can and can't do.
Going out to play in the sunshine.
Saturday, February 28, 2004
thirteen blissful hours
I haven't had that much natural non-something induced sleep in ages. It was wonderful. I have the urge to spring clean the house, rip everything apart and put it back together. Maybe get rid of some of the clutter. I'm sure if I put it off for another hour, have some more coffee and write the thing in my head that's been banging around - it'll pass.I need to grocery shop and though it is another beautiful day, I'm not sure I want leave the house. Look at how all that sleep makes me so indecisive.
Or I could just sit here and watch Morpheus abort downloads.
I also have about five different sorting things to do. Gah, I've even boring myself.
But, G, you got the house!!!! Yay!!!
lyric at post:
..Steal me, deal me, anyway you heal me
Maim me, tame me, you can never change me
Love me, like me, come ahead and fight me
Please me, tease me, go ahead and leave me..
Thursday, February 26, 2004
and the tide rolls in
My life has always been chock full of incredibly nasty things, I seem to attract it no matter what I'm doing. The saving grace is that eventually the tide turns and incredibly good things happen. I don't expect them too and I don't ever believe they are going to happen but somehow they always do. I've become better over the years at accepting that this is the balance of my life.The little stories of my life may not always have a happy ending but they always seem to come to a satisfactory conclusion. One that makes a colorful and interesting tale, once I've stepped far enough back to find the humor in the telling.
I can't remember a time when there was a prolonged period of calm. I could give a hundred examples of that very thing and eventually I may get around to telling some of them. My favorite one, which I tend to think of as...."the clown who came to stay, and very possibly saving my life, left - never to be seen again" will probably be the first. When people ask me to tell a story about selflessness or unexpected grace, it's the one that I always return to.
Anyways, I'm off to bed but the reason I'm here, briefly, is to say that today one of those incredibly fortuitous things came to pass. Not a miracle cure for an old dog, not a commitment from my job, nothing to change the plans for next month - but something that has negated the financial strain and lifted the biggest weight from my shoulders so that I can truly put myself *into*and enjoy the next four weeks. (Herself is doing incredibly well, btw.) Coupled with the end of the weekly condo meetings and tripled by yj's gift of time, skill and self, I think I can smell a change in the wind.
Which is really, really cool, and very, very welcome.
shug-rrrrr
After the coffee cake and the banana muffin for lunch, I've been desperately trying to avoid the quadruple chocolate cake in the lunchroom (we're a little spoiled here) due to the lesson of the sugar-slumping a few days ago. Not to mention the inherent danger of eventually becoming the 900 lb wonder lady.Which actually looks fab-u-lous dahling. The hair, I mean. (You'll have to trust me on that one, there will be no pics until after the 15th of March).
Alas, I caved in during a trip into the den of temptation for some water.
Now, I'm back at my desk and considering what I'd look like bald.
*deep breath, chanting quietly....sugar tears down impulse control barriers, sugar tears down impulse control barriers, deep breath*
Having finished all eshie's books except one, I am now also reading 'Searching for Certainty - Inside the New Canadian Mindset' co-written by someone at my company. Wheeeee.
Actually, so far it's pretty interesting.
Ohh, let's do that again. Wheeeeeee. hee hee hee, too...much...sugar..eyes...all...wobbly.
I did, however, walk TO work this morning, although my pants are thin and it was colder than it felt when I walked the dog (-9Celcius), so by the time I got here, my bum was quite chilled and numb.
And, although I know that it is impossible to 'catch-up' on sleep, I slept more than my usual 4 hours last night for a whole whopping SEVENpointFIVE. And I'm still weaving about like a bobble head toy.
Pornyboy - just for you, I've compromised and I'd tell you where I changed the site to reflect the analogy but I honestly don't know what that part of my site is called. In the template it's 'title' and it shows up along the bottom of the browser window. OH, could it be called 'the title'?
I really need to go home now. Whew.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
OIC
Okay, you crack me up. And I know I said I was going to bed but I'm waiting for laundrey. Besides, I'm wide awake now. So, I'm making some "Philosopher's Brew". Which some may, rightly or wrongly, call a tea. But, technically, it's grass. LEMONgrass. Or even more technically, an herbal infusion (with a question to purplepen at the bottom this post). With some lavender, rosehips and citrus peel for good measure. Which I have to get more of next month cause I can only buy it in Victoria.Finding myself oftentime unable to make less intelligent....er.....people without good listening skills understand my point (and frequently, I have one, quite) I tend to use lots of analogies in day-to-day life. It works and it's sort of fun to make them up. PB has graciously analogized "aggregrator" for those of us little baby geeks who were just not picking up what he was putting down. The entire post and ensuing comment confusion is here. The bit I'm interested in is below:
Your site is GOUDA. I like Gouda. I also like STILTON, which is bandhag's site, and DANISH BLUE, which is Jen's site. (In fact, you all might want to think of changing the names of your sites for the duration of this analogy, seeing as you're in the mood for doing what I ask. It would be helpful, cheers.) I don't like ASDA'S SMARTPRICE MILD CHEDDAR though, it sucks.
On my CHEESEBOARD (aggregator) I have all the cheeses I like, instead of on a bunch of separate PLATES (browser windows).
And whenever there's new CHEESE created by THE CHEESE PRODUCERS I like, it appears on my CHEESEBOARD without me having to go looking for it first.
Then I EAT (read) all the CHEESES (updates) with my MOUTH (eyes).
So, *of course* I had to go look up danish blue. It would take a better man than me to resist. And here's what I got....
What? Less complex? I'm simple? Not quite as moody? There are others out there MORE moody than I lately? Unevenly.....ahh, who am I kidding..... it's actually quite perfect, isn't it? ;) I'm weirdly flattered. And warm. Well, that could just be that I drank my infusion too fast...
So, question for e cause she's our teacherbritishslangexpert who graciously answers my questions. I write like I talk (let's not get into that right now) and I would say AN herbal infusion. Cause it's an ERBAL infusion. But, is that right? And how then, is it to be written?
These are the questions that consume me. Help.
lyric at post:
..we spotted the ocean, at the head of the trail
where are we going? so far away
somebody told me, that this is the place, where everything's better and everything's safe..
general bitching and something, not
In the general springtime-feeling way of things I realized today it was time to have my annual physical. Which, strangely enough, last year, when they ran every single blood test known to man (and a few only for horses), I came up as a freakishly healthy specimen. Perfect blood sugar, low 'bad' cholesterol, high 'good' cholesterol.....you get the idea, right? Since I still have tonsils and an appendix, it's never the little stuff that gets me so I try to go at the same time every year. I phoned my GP....."Sure, we can book you an appointment for a physical but Dr. C only does them on certain days so we're currently booking for .... September."
Can you believe that? I would've booked at last years' if I'd known that. Freaks. While I have absolutely no issues around the care I received when it was critical, this is something that managed to shock me into speechlessness. Thank god Alberta has the best care in Canada (so they say) and a surplus budget every year. Our standards are pretty low, I guess.
I am about to go to the 8 billionth weekly condo board meeting. 'Nuff said, there.
Then I am coming back up here, taking the dog for her walk and going right to bed. I was going to move a bunch of my mp3's to the USB so I can burn some cd's at work for my trip but that can wait. Herself had a bath this evening and she'll be ready to curl up and shiver (whatever couldn't be blowdried by her hour long mad dash around the condo) herself dry. She smells so good and is so soft after a bath though....ahhh.
T1 confirmed that we find out our raises on the 15th. One can only hope they do the right thing and recognize the inherent justice of 'wage equity'. And here...is the understatement of the month.....the waiting sucks though.
And yj. I know you know how important this is to me and I know I probably, in a nice way, gave you no choice but it does need to be said... I will never be able to adequately express what this means to me and what it means that you, specifically, are doing it. Especially now when I'm exhausted beyond coherency. Thank you from behind the sandbags. I promise not to cry. In front of anyone, anyways.
'Night.
lyric at post:
..days when I could live my life without you, without you..
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
wandering about, slathered in vaseline & trying not to drip on the floor
...my god, you people have dirty minds.Without really considering the fact that I had the aforementioned afternoon slump due to the fact that the food I ate after the meeting (ie: lunch) consisted of a huge cinammon bun, a danish and three pieces of banana bread, on the way home - I decided to dye my hair. God save us from the lows of a sugar rush.
After being a brunette for three years and finally deciding to pack my hair dying days in for eternity last June and resigned to keeping my fine blonde locks forever, it must currently be hard to navigate through hell due to the looming icebergs.
Cause in 30 minutes, I'll be a brunette again.
Or, more specifically, Loreals #63, "dark auburn". How mysterious.
afternoon slump
I'd like the name of the guy who just snuck up behind me and hit me with the sleepy stick. No, really I would. I'd like him to come back this evening as I hit my second wind, about 10 minutes past my bedtime and whack me again. I would very much appreciate it. If you see him, can you let him know I'm looking for him?In the absence of having any exciting work to do, as opposed to the bor-yawn-ing stuff I usually try to put off, I'm here. Again.
I stopped by Mat's office for a diversion and he roped me into ad-testing. Which just makes me belligerent. "Why do you like that ad? Would it make you go to the event? Don't you think that half-naked guy is sexy? What about the ad speakssssss to you?"
We have this radio station here in Calgary that's catch phrase is.... "Playing what we want." One does not often hear the same song twice and sometimes the most suprising stuff. T1 and I play this game in the mornings (as we both listen to it before work) of who can come up with the most 'our teen years' of songs they played that day (being close to the same age, although he definitely wins for maturity low-level). You know, 'Asia - Heat of the Moment', 'Mathew Wilder - Break My Stride'. Today it was 'Six Months in a Leaky Boat' by Split Enz. Before the meeting in the boardroom I wandered in to make sure that it was all set up and he was crawling around on the floor in his suit singing and taping wires underneath the table. He knew all the words to it. I'd pinch his cheeks if he didn't hold my salary level in his hand. Maybe I should anyways. He really is a delightful person.
I see it is warmer here than in London by 7F. Ha! I'm not laughing at you guys, but at Accent Boy who flew there yesterday. And I'm only laughing cause I'm overtired. Normally, I wouldn't. Really. So, all you Londoners, if you see any Australians, say hello will ya? Cause chances are one in eight million it's the one who just left Canada, but, honestly it's the nice thing to do. And don't you want to do nice things for others? C'mon, you know you want to be nice. Even I can't be maudlin, depressed and dramatic for more than an hour at a time.
I'm linking to this because I'll bet it's almost universally true among those of us over 27 or so, and I think it should be officially a blogger procedure. Also, copying it below, in case you can't be arsed to clicky click.
When looking for new interesting blogs, I use my own three second process for deciding whether or not click away.
1) Is the back ground black, dark red, or some other violent colour? Click away- 1 second
2) Is it written in a random mixture of caps and lower case, with txt mSg spK tHrwn n Fr gd mSRe? Urgh urgh, I feel dirty! CLICK AWAY- 0.5 of a second!! (often goes with 1)
3) Does the writer have a poor sense of spelling?- skim read first post on page- if boring, or about college friends, make-up, or teenage angst, click away- 3 seconds.
4) Pictures of scantily clad mystical looking figures? 0.5 of a second.
5) Pictures of tits (the appendage not the bird, NiC)? 0.5 seconds unless text with it, in which case I use #3 test.
6) whole page full of memes and quizzes- 2 seconds
The ones most likely to catch my attention are the ones with paragraphs, and which demonstrate some knowledge of punctuation, grammar and spelling. Those are the ones I gravitate towards, it seems.
And, for my part, to be honest I would be compelled to add... people who use regional phrases that fascinate me. We've been over this before, I know, my weird captivation around other accents. (don't even get me started on the whole 'big-head' compulsion - I'll talk about that one day - my friends think it's funny as hell). I'm one of those people who pick up accents. Not in an over the top way, more subtle like. After a month in England as a pre-teen, no one could understand me when I came home (I don't imagine being of british ancestry hurts) but spend time around newfies and, well, there you go. I spent an entire night in Ft. Lauderdale one summer making all the Americans talk to me but there were too many dialects and I ended up sounding like a ultra-urban backwoods Kentuckian, slightly skewed towards New Yawk by the next morning. It passes eventually and I do it unconsciously - it's not something I can pick up if I concentrate on doing it - I think it just comes from being so captivated by other countries.
Call it strange and a little weird if you like, but I prefer to think of it as part of my quirky charm. *glare*
I think I should go have a cup of tea.
lyric at post:
..She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's time to change..
only a baby
Alright, PB, that's done it. I read through the blogger documentation as I was stuffing my face from the morning meeting and much to my ....erm....delight, found that I was already enabled. So, I've added the link down over there, to the right. Now, stop, or you'll make me cry - I'm only a little baby geek.Check cremation off the to do list.
Oh, I mean, it's not done but I've talked to 'them' about it. One guy was definately more grieving-owner friendly than the other, it must be pointed out. He even said I could have the vet release the body to me and take it out there to place in the ....oven... myself. I don't think I'd go that far though. I don't really need *that* much closure. I've buried enough animals out on the farm to be quite okay with letting someone else deal with the body.
I feel better about the look in here today, but buggershitepiss I can't figure out where the 'current' archive notation went, I'm having issues with the line down there and the spacing on the third lyric line - cause there's no differentiation between them. Yeah, that one. Down there.
Other than that, I'm very busy, doing things. Job-like things. And, now I'm off to do more of them. Those job-like things. So, there.
lyric at post:
..she is perfect in that fucked up way
that all the magazines
seem to want to glorify these days..
Monday, February 23, 2004
this is what happens
WHEN YOU DON'T BACK UP YOUR GODDAMN TEMPLATEyup, yup, I'm yelling...
*sigh* I just lost my entire front page. *poof* gone.
I have no idea what I did, but I've just had to start from scratch - man it's hard to remember how you did things 5 months ago.....it looks all funny to me now.
I may try and fix some more of it before I strangle myself with the mouse cord...or I may just go to bed.
lyric at post:
..is this what you need what you wanted me to be always loved me strapped to you lock it down and drive me through..
download, downtime, downshift
I hate it when kazaa 'needs more sources'. gahhh.In the inevitable up and down emotional cycling and recycling of any given moment, I think I'm finally becoming a little more okay with the idea. I spoke to both Lacey's vets today about her status (man, I'll miss them when we won't see them anymore) and firmed up the dates when her regular one will be in over the next few weeks, for, although I did like the 'new guy', he can't quite compare to her regular vet, who only works one day a week and every other Saturday.
The task list for this week includes talking to the cremation guy about notice and when they can return her to me, hopefully it'll be before I've gone roadtripping as I'd hate to leave her that long in the care of strangers (you're obviously not paying attention if you think I'm letting them sell her to a farmer for fertilizer...not that there's anything wrong with that...)
It seems fitting that she will remain a part of my life, having been the most important part of it for so long. And no, I will not be having her stuffed. I'll bet some of you thought that would be the next bright idea (ha!). I may be an emotional and dramatic girly but, really, that's just....creepy. I don't imagine she would appreciate the death jokes and the cutie little morbid nicknames she's gotten over the last couple weeks if she could hear me, but, whatever gets me through, I say. Which brings to mind a quote...
James Thurber
Work felt a little more normal today and I'd tell you the story told today about T2 having a public shouting match with our PM, except I probably shouldn't. heh.
lyric at post:
..beneath the stain of time, the feeling disappears,
you are someone else, I am still right here..
looping
Tucking myself into bed last night and picking up yet another of my lovely books from eschie - short stories by Neil Gaimon - I managed to read 75% of it before finally feeling seep-y enough to turn out the light.Except, two or three of the stories quoted another childhood-remembered song.
give me your answer do!
I'm half crazy,
All for the love of you!
It won't be a stylish marriage,
I can't afford a carriage,
But you'll look sweet
On the seat
Of a bicycle built for two!
That man knows from horror, does he not? At least the little teapot has been relegated to the choir.
Our office building houses one of the federal courthouses a couple of floors down, and today we have the 'pleasure' of hosting Mr. Jean Chretien (former prime minister of our lovely country) as he is testifying in some sort of somethingorother with the First Nations people. I, personally, have no urge to meet him, he always annoyed me and even if I *were* someone who voted I never would have voted for him anyways. He never did much like the western provinces - it must be quite a shock to actually have to spend a day here.
It is pretty interesting though to hear the FN actually speaking in their own language in the corridors. I don't know if this is indicative of an eastern upbringing but on the west coast the natives I knew would be hard pressed to even speak five words.
I was one of those freakishly smart kids (well, at first anyways) who always did the 'enriched' classes in elementary and I actually did take a course and learn quite a bit of the Bella Coola language. I don't think any of it lasted past puberty though as I'll be damned if any of it rings a bell.
I almost defended PB's right to be obsessed with his own genitals but that's just maternal instinct kicking in, I'm sure he's much more capable than I am and so I'll leave that in his own hands. So to speak.
lyric at post:
..Yes, it's true that I believe, I'm weaker than I used to be
I wear my heart out on my sleeve and I forget the rest of me..
Sunday, February 22, 2004
nursery rhymes
I've had "I'm a little teapot" running through my head all day.Do people go insane from that?
Maybe it's because I bought a little teapot yesterday so I think the best thing to do, is make some tea.
Right, then, bye.
lyric at post:
..it's been one week since you looked at me,
cocked yor head to one side
and said, "I'm angry"..
Saturday, February 21, 2004
memory, triggered
(this has been edited) Memories are strange. And rambly, a little. It's almost like you can't share an encapsulated memory - there's too many things that need to go along with it. So much of a backstory that sometimes has to be told to make sense of the memory itself, especially when - theoretically I'm only telling myself but realistically - I'm telling you, too.As previously mentioned, today was a beautiful day. This morning I had coffee on the balcony with you-know-who . If you're curious about her cancer (since to me she still looks like a cutie rock star), then...if you look really hard directly below her right - (from our point of view) nostril about 2 cm is a reddy-black spot, as opposed to the grey on the left side, which is the tumor on her lip (about the size of a grape), and on her back foot towards us is the tumor that has now pretty much replaced her toe (about the size of a cherry tomato), but unless you're me, you probably can't see that one, there's also a little one just under her left eye, but that one is black (about the size of a little pea).
From my balcony I can see downtown (scroll a little farther for the pic - apologies for the quality) - if you look for the red blobby at the edge of the right side - that's the 'famous' Calgary tower, which I cannot see once that tree grows some foliage. I love to sit out on the balcony at night when it's warm and look at the city lights, for although I live 'downtown' the highrise core area is relatively small. Reminds me of Tampa for some reason.
Warm summer evenings in different cities have their own unique feel. When I think of Victoria, I think either of my cabin on the lake - bugs rising off the water, the sounds of birds in the trees and the smell of the lake or having drinks along the waterfront - the slap of the ocean against the dock, the cries of the gulls and the smell of saltwater. Each of the cities in Canada have something like that but I won't go into the rest of mine, as most of them, for me, involve being a CFL girlfriend and all involve the football stadium-hotel-bar triangle in some way. Which isn't so unique across cities.
Summer sunset/dusk in Calgary has always been my favorite time of the day/year due to the peculiar quality of the light. I don't have the words to describe it so you'll just have to trust me on this one. That light is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, but it must be experienced to be understood.
On the balcony today, feeling lightyears away from those summer nights, I found myself propped up against the wall and yearning for it to be that time again. I feel like I missed the tranquility of that time of day all of last year as that was when Billy was here with me, and by no stretch of the imagination was Billy a tranquil person.
Sitting there, I noticed a rock laying on the very edge of the balcony and it took me a while to figure out what it was doing there. I had to laugh as it's been there since the summer of 2002, last year hidden behind the plant pots.
That summer, recently returned to work and struggling with the things I'd gone through that spring, I dated someone named Chris. He was a bartender and had lived in Victoria for a while. We had bonded over discussions of the things we loved about the island and I liked having that connection. I haven't seen him or thought about him in a long while. I remember sitting in my chair reading late one night and hearing this *clang* pause *clang*. He'd been out after work, I think, with his friends and was in that state that comes when you've drank too much and then jammed drugs up your nose, drunk enough to be incoherent but wired enough to make sense and, apparantly, coordinated enough to hit my balcony railing with rocks. I guess the front door was too far for him to go.
Chris was/is a gentle and intelligent man who had taken a wrong turn or two along the way that he seemed unable to get out from under and I find myself wondering if he's alright. He was always very gentle with me then, even though he didn't know what had gone before, somehow, he helped to make it all a little better. He had a habit, of which I could never break him, of sitting naked on the balcony, chain smoking and telling the most wonderful, insightful stories. I'll have to ask one of the kids at my former job if they ever see him, but regardless, that memory made me smile. I could never make him understand that it just didn't look good to the neighbors for the vice-president of the board to have naked people on her balcony.
There have been a few men in my life who would drop out of their own lives periodically for a few days and just hide out with me. Chris always said I was easy to be around and my presence calmed and recharged him somehow. You probably haven't gotten that impression from the blog, and it's no wonder, but it seems to be a fairly consistent part of my personality, as I've had people tell me that quite often. I think it's one of my favorite things about myself.
Digressing for a sec, another of those people, whose name was Austin, (whom I sure I will get around to telling the story of, as it's a gooder) as I was leaving for work in the morning would roll over in bed and yell out, "Where's my princess?", (this was back in '00 or so before she lost her hearing) whereupon Lacey would *bound* in to land on his chest and cover his face with kisses. Unreservedly, the one person I dated that she loved beyond all reason. The thing is, it was mutual, that I'm sure of. He used to say that the only time he slept well was when he was there with me and his little princess. It occurs to me that he would probably like to say goodbye to her, and although I've heard he's back in town, I'm not at all sure I want to find him. Not because I don't care for him, but because that would prompt him to become part of my life again and I don't want that. I'm just not that person anymore.
Maybe I think of all these things now as I look back over Lacey's life with me. W, that I talked about in December, hated Lacey just as much as she seemed to loathe him, and in making my peace with her, it may be the best thing to remember all the other people who were gentle with her and loved her, if only briefly. Twelve years is a lifetime and there are many things she has been through with me, many things that she has given me and many things that I need to remember and give her kisses for, before it is her time to go.
And I'm completely flabbergasted that rock is still there. I don't think I'll move it. See how long it lasts.
just plain tuckered out
I'm not sure who's more tired now. That was too much fun. Well, except for the neverunderstood tendency for the killer to take offense when large dogs sniff her bum. That German Shepherd's not so cocky now. pfft.This is a big shock, I know, but I did not win the lottery.
A walking thought...it's all much less terrible than it sounds. But there seems to be no way for me to bring that across. That is a failing that niggles at me.
And because permalinking isn't working for eschie, I'm scooting this here, because I really liked it. If that's icky, let me know.
so yesterday i finally finished going thru those pesky first 242 pages of RMG (incidentally while listening to Front 242) and I came to the realization that what I didn't like about the book had nothing to do with the characters or the plot or the fact that it was seriously lacking in incest, necrophelia, homoeroticism and death, but that it lacked an underlying sadness. I can't explain it. Twin thinks maybe it comes from an inherent melancholy. That internal bluestate that people tend to carry with them regardless of how it serves their selves. I tend to think this underlying sadness is actually part of the glue that holds us together, that binds us as people.
because of my path I don't think there's anything wrong with, or technically bad about this sadness, and I most definitely don't think it's anything that I'd like to be rid of. Mostly I think this sad, this bluestate baggage, is directly tied to hope and compassion. It's the black to the white. It's Suffering, with a capital S. The type of suffering that is unavoidable and unrelenting and must be walked along with instead of out run. Because you can't escape it. It's the nature of things and as natural as breath and if you spend all of your time trying to stop it from occuring, it will destroy you.
which is why it has to be in fiction. Because that sadness, that natural-as-breath emotion is what expands the lungs of the word and puts the pink back in its cheeks, even if the skin is already red from crying. I think fiction, really good under-your-skin fiction, does this in spades. It doesn't shy away or try to be something that it's not or reflect people in some shiny rosy glow.
and that is what I uncovered last night while writing about bike couriers and vomit.
and that is that.
I want to get out the deck chairs but I think that may be tempting fate, considering we are nowhere near the end of winter, no matter what the weather is trying to trick us into.
FFWD tells me that Henry Rollins is coming to town as are the Pixies and that Ani will be in Banff soon (as well as Dido). Hard choices, too hard for a beautiful Saturday afternoon.
lyric at post:
..there will be no white flag upon my door..
worthy use of time
Since I stopped voting (for a myriad of strange and senseless reasons) years ago, I've never really gotten back into taking a stand on anything during elections. This, however, is something I can get behind.It is decidedly springlike outside and so Herself and I are off to go to the park.
lyric at post:
..if it's the thing that you fear, it will always be right here..
Friday, February 20, 2004
artwork for Mom
I've been home today, not feeling well and mostly just hanging on the couch with the cuddle bunny. I ran out a little while ago to grab something from the store across the street and when I came home she'd been busy making me a little gift.She hasn't been chewing on her foot, maybe cause I've been here with her but it seems she took the opportunity during the five minutes I was gone. But she didn't stop there. When I walked in she was 'touring'. The entire condo was decorated with little bloody footprints. And I mean the entire condo. She didn't miss one square foot. I don't think she even went over the same ground twice. Pretty amazing, when you think about it.
It was actually quite pretty.
I've seen lots of human blood over the years but I don't think I've ever seen canine blood. Ours is a deep red but hers is so bright it's almost pink.
I thought about leaving it. It matched the accents in the living room.
She's been disinfected and bandaged and is now having a well deserved nap in my easy chair. I could almost swear she's smiling.
lyric at post:
..I believe you mean the best that life can bring
I believe in it all ..
hmph
one background negates another, I suppose. Can anyone else see it? my kingdom for a bracket, apparantly....all fixedThat cup in the pic, mys, was a silver sippy cup with my name on it, I've still got it around here someplace. :) That's my favorite pic too.
lyric at post:
..you're dirty and you're sweet, you're everything to me..
Thursday, February 19, 2004
bits
In my referrer log today, domain name of a visitor.....boromir 5:39:56 pm
How cool is that?
It occured to me that unless you know my last name, you won't find the nickname relevant in any way. Which is most of you. Sorry!
In thinking about what yj emailed me today, I wrote an entire post in my head on the walk home from work, but large amounts of dog kisses (blech) and that nasty nasty board meeting have wiped it completely away.
But maybe it'll come back tomorrow.
It was about giving people access to the blog. And, depending on motivation, what that access means. In a nutshell. But I don't think it changes anything, now that I'm not moving really fast down the street. Maybe I don't need that post written in my head. I still stand by this and this. Even more every day.
H, knowing how much I like Crystal Light to make my smoothies, brought me an entire bag of one-serving Raspberry flavored packets. I didn't do a count, but it looks like about 300 of them. Isn't she great? I think so.
Here's a funny thing, the more I walk, the less I feel like this. Okay, not funny ha ha, not even funny weird. Common sense actually. *blushing, me*
And this, obviously, is recycle day. But, in my own little way, I have a reason for it.
lyric at post:
..when he shouts, nobody listens, where he leads, no one will go..
Old Friends
I have this old friend. His name is Steve. I always called him SteveM then as there were too many Steve's in my life, much like the plethora of Tim's lately. He is a transplanted Manchesterian (is that what they're called?) who's been in Vancouver for at least 15 years (as that's how long I've known him). I met him through my friend Ron who did some sort of 'work' with him. Steve is what I think of as the bad cliche Brit. A crusty live-under-the-bridge troll type of guy, popping up to be critical of everything and cheap as all get out, but with some saving charm once you crack through the surface.Anyways, he regularly travelled over to the island to do business, usually three days of every fourteen. I lived in my little cabin on the lake and he stayed in the big ritzy hotel on the Inner Harbor. In those days, I didn't yet have the dog, so when Steve was in town I would commandeer the second bed in his hotel room so I could hit the pool and the sauna and then walk the two blocks to work in the morning. We ate out when Steve was in town and Ron just paid for everything. I guess business was good. I remember those times when I smell the chlorine of a pool or, for some weird reason, see a stand up fan. I think one of the summers was a hot one. Ron used to take us out on his boat and I can still hear the seals barking on Race Rocks and to this day sport the scar on my thumb from a crab that just wouldn't let go. Ron's teenage son Robbie had to beat it to death with some sort of fishing implement like a hero.
Since I was in my early 20's, Steve must have been in his early 30's and Ron was in his mid 40's. One night, about 3 years ago, in the bar, I ran into Robbie - who wasn't even driving when I left home to move here. Didn't even recognize him (as boys tend to fill out from gawky to gorgeous between 15 and 25). Drunk and looming over me in the bar, he confessed he'd had a crush on me all those years ago. The thought of which still makes me smile. I've spoken to Ron and Steve both since I left but it's been about 9 years since I've seen either of them.
In calling about yesterday to see if I could find a couch for Accent Boy, I called Steve at work and left a message. I never thought he'd call back. He never ever does. He just assumes I'll keep calling back until I catch him. I mentioned he was cheap, right?
Today, my cell rang and this still faintly accented voice yells - "Who am I speaking to?" (he's a yeller to boot). We caught up in double-time, where I'm working, Calgary, the condo, his job, how Ron and his son are. He laughed at my story of Robbie's confession - his remark being, 'like father, like son.' (I know that friends have told me I'm completely oblivious to the interest of other people, and there's probably several million different reasons for that, but it is a bit of a nice thing to learn after the fact. In it's way. Once you discount the father/son creepiness.)
When I mentioned that I may be out his way after Lacey's on her way, he snorted (yes, he actually did) and said, "Well, no wonda yer bloddy callin', you obviously need a quick reality slap in the hed." He makes me laugh.
He had to go as he was on his way to fly to Ottawa but promised he'd call me next week. And he sounded downright tickled to hear from me. I guess we all become a little less troll-like and a little more willing to be gentle as we get older.
My boss came up with a new nickname for me today, I think as payback for calling him 'Timli' (think Gimli the dwarf') the last month or so.
copious: 1. Yielding or containing plenty; affording ample supply: a copious harvest. 2. Large in quantity; abundant: copious rainfall. 3. Abounding in matter, thoughts, or words; wordy: “I found our speech copious without order, and energetic without rules” (Samuel Johnson).
Whatever way you look at it, it's about as flattering as Timli. Must come up with some nasty rejoinder.
lyric at post:
..I feel stupid, but it's something that comes and goes
I've been changing, I think it's funny how no one knows..
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
artful dodging
To take my mind off not smoking and shut up that little hoarse voice beside my left ear croaking, "Why? Why are you trying to quit NOW? *hack* Are you mad? Could you pick a worse time?" I've been trying to learn how to insert streaming video.I succeeded in the first, but not in the second.
I think it's cool when people know the lyrics. Just so you know.
MaJen suggested I put a little bootie on the dog to protect her footsie from any dirt aggravating the infection. Thinking it's a rational idea (few and far between from my mother, god love her) but not being the kind of girl (at least since I hit puberty) to dress up my pets in cute and very "in" accessories, I just used one of the baggies I use for erm...collection. I have to admit, I'm sure she knows I'm laughing at her, but it's funny as hell. I can't help myself.
It's no worse than that time I broke my elbow and, not having a bathtub, having to shower with a black garbage bag over half my body. Granted, the general public didn't get to see that, (we can only hope) but what comes around...
How many bits did I get to with the whole meaning of life thing? I was thinking about that since 'Meaning' below was the first one. Cause I found something tonight that needs to go in there. Regardless. I'll add it and put them all in one place in the Tombs. Right after I finish this post.
You'll need some reference material for the next bit, class.
Western Canada (where I live), please note distances between cities - handily noted in miles for your perusal. In talking with maJen the other night I mentioned about T wanting to buy the condo and she says...
"You should wait for the year before the Olympics."
I admit, I have to pause to figure this out, but finally have to ask...
"Why? The Olympics are in Vancouver."
"Oops," she giggles, "I thought they were in Edmonton."
Begging of course, a mental sigh and the remark, "But Mom, I LIVE in Calgary."
"Oh, right, good point."
And you guys wonder why even sometimes *I'm* not sure where I live. Although, to my credit, I know what city I'm in.
lyric at post:
..running over the same old ground, but have we found the same old fears, wish you were here..
Sunday, February 15, 2004
Canadianisms
a happy coincidence
From Labyrinthman.With definitions and everything! It's right here.
lyric at post:
..you got a stuck in a moment and now you can't get out of it..
mysterys solved
I've had this bruise on my stomach since last Sunday. I bruise easily and take a long time healing and most of the time I have no idea where they've come from, being fairly careless in the way I throw myself through the day. There's currently one on the inside first joint of my middle finger which hurts like a son of a bitch every time I touch something. The one on my belly is a circle about 2 cm round and a lovely greeny purple color. Yesterday, whilst sipping lemongrass tea, I pulled up my shirt to show H, apologizing for exposing my fat little belly but then couldn't see it. Shifting a little, I discovered the antenna of my cell phone was jammed into it. Hence, mystery solved. Repeating cell phone injury.Thinking lately that herself's knee has destabilized as she's not putting any weight on it, in wrestling about with her last night I felt a really long nail and in getting the thingmajig to cut it, found a great big mushy sore looking toe that's pushed the nail out of whack. Cutting the nail has allowed her to put her foot down once more. Mystery number 2 solved. Little old lady gnarly toenails.
Now, if only some of the big mysteries would neatly resolve themselves into my lap.
lyric at post:
..and that ain't what you want to hear, but that's what I'll do..
Saturday, February 14, 2004
past lives
In the full realization that the doggie bits are a little bit of a downer (imagine what it's like to live here with me right now, sheesh) I'm trying to balance them out. No, really I am. And, today, thinking of someone and something else I searched the internet and to my (not really) surprise, finding that a site I belonged to when I first got a computer has now been removed from the www, I thought that I would (in the absence of fresh material that's not seriously depressing and/or sentimental and tedious) move some of those things, from those days, over here. Those of you that have managed to stick it out with me, will remember the This Time Last Year post from November (linked funny cause I still can't get this right), well this all comes from the same site. This one comes from that same road trip.Regina, a woman glimpsed
As I sat drinking coffee, something nudged against my shoe. It was a blue crayon that had rolled across the floor and sitting opposite me was a dark-haired girl of about four, holding her hand out for it. I picked up the crayon and handed it to her, smiling at her mother in the polite way of strangers.I glanced into her face and saw her exhausted eyes quickly look down, avoiding mine. It was then that I suffered a jolt of appetite for her, that gripping in the stomach that is desire and maybe something else. In a sudden, helpless way, I stared. She had the same coloring as the little girl. I couldn't have said what her race was, not exactly, but it wasn't white. Dark hair in a ponytail. Eyes the color of Coca-Cola. Skin that startling velvety brown.
She could be anything, this woman. In cleaner clothes - a housewife. In a mink coat - an heiress. In tight jeans and cheap red pumps - a whore addicted to self-destruction.
But the woman sitting across from me was none of these things. She possessed a different story and I felt that immediate compulsion to study and know the face of a stranger. Was this wrong? Don't we all memorize the faces of strangers? Her cheeks rose sharply and her lips were full. Slightly too much so - suggesting imprudence and passion. She was beauty, weary beauty.
She lifted her daughter over into her lap and lightly kissed the child's head. The woman held her daughter with both arms and gently rocked her. She didn't know I watched, leaning over my book. Her face tipped forward in fatigue and, by habit, I thought, she kissed the small, dark head again.
lyric at post:
..it might sound silly, for me to think childish thoughts like these
but I'm so tired of acting tough and I'm gonna do what I please..
unexpected tears
or, Jen's emotions seesaw in the blink of an eye, how fun
I come out of the bedroom and you are standing in the middle of the room with your back to me, gazing at something I can't see or thinking thoughts that I can't ever know. I creep up behind you in a crouch, poke you in your fat little bum and as you spin around to catch me, I move. We are twisting around and around in the middle of the room, chasing each other, and I am laughing at the joy of you.I scoop you up in mid-spin and carry you on my hip over to sit on my lap in the chair. You lift your paw and lay it pad side on my cheek, craning your face towards me to lick my chin. As I rub your belly your paw flexes on my face, gripping like a child, claws digging in oh-so-gently as I hit your favorite spots.
You move your face a little to the left to lick the tears that fall at the oft-lately realization that soon you will no longer be here to love and to laugh with, no longer surprised to be scooped up in mid-thought and danced about the room. I think that although you have caught my tears before, you probably don't understand that lately, they've all been for you. And although I smile at you and kiss your warm black nose, my heart is breaking anew with every day that is left.
brunching
Above cartoon courtesy of youyesyou which I found on someone's blog yesterday and shamefacedly admit I didn't note whose. Apologies!
Tony and I went for brunch at Wildewood this morning. We had a lot to catch up on...as he puts it...."Your life is like getting to ride the rollercoaster at Disneyland and the best part is, you never have to wait in a line up. I like waiting at the bottom for you." He's thinking of buying a place and asked me how much I'd sell the condo for. I think he was saying that if I wanted to pack up and go, he'd buy my place. That's not something I want to even think about and refused to pursue with him, it's far too tempting but it's not something I want to do. Sell, that is. The going part will be decided in the next month and that will be that. No point in dwelling on it.
He thinks I should work on making 'pants' the new Canadian buzzword. lol. It's a thought. Cause I love it. The brits have a way of talking, with their little slangy bits that just fascinates me no end. PB's the best at it = "a pile of noodly wank", tee hee. But even, "I'm arsed." "That's pants." I could go on, and mostly I do, but I'm on a time schedule here. I'm sure Canadians have their own brand of slang that no one gets but you just can't see those things when you're standing in the middle of them. And no, we do not incessently say, "EH?"
H is up and about so we are running an errand to pick up the books eschie left for me, as I've exhausted H's bookcase. Oh, I should call first, I guess. Then she suggested tea at Steeps. Which is a damn lovely idea. And so I'm of to do just that.
lyric at post:
..So, shed your skin and let's get started..
Valentines past
Once a year, I think about Ben.Because today is that day... let me tell you why...
In 1994, I worked for the Fisheries and Wildlife Branch. During that time I had a variety of roles, from Freshwater Licencing to electrofishing the Coquihalla River. Before I left them for good, I worked on a Black bear study up in the remoter regions of Vancouver Island.
We flew up in a little plane, built in the 60's, in which I got to sit in the co-pilots seat. I think the plane only had 8 seats in total and it was a wonderful thing. It had a purple interior and the windows were lined with those fabric pieces that had the 'dingle balls', like in a Cheech and Chong movie. The logging company there gave us a cabin to use as a home base as our study involved following roughly 25 bears with radio collars around all day and cataloguing what they were eating and doing. It was a six day a week, dawn till dusk sort of job in which we alternatively drove around to locate the bears and then hiked through clearcuts and second growth forest to get close to them. (The picture in the gallery entitled 'Albert the bear' I had to take by staking out the tree he walked by every day and steppping out to snap him - dangerous I know, but at the time, I had no zoom lens).
My 'boss', during the journey up, acted a little strangely around me. We stopped at a local bar for a beer and then he drove us to a remote lake to drink a bottle of wine. I remember that lake, it was beautiful and we could hear (I can still hear) the beavers slapping their tails on the water to give the alarm that intruders were near. I remember thinking, "he has the tickets, I'm trapped here, so I better just play along with him." Frankly, I was young and a past experience only served to immobilize me in situations like that.
The first week, I was paired with him every day and he treated me as if I was brought along to be his little girlfriend. He would stop the truck by a river and strip off all his clothes to swim naked while I sat in the truck, frozen and terrified. By the time Saturday night came I was exhausted from lack of sleep (we all slept in tents outside), physically worn down and in a state of despair.
The camp, which was 70% men, had a volunteer fire department who that night were putting on a dance for us. I remember being in the bathroom in the cabin curling my hair and he came up behind me, put his arms around me and kissed my neck. I know now that men like him fully exploit the power they have over young people who don't know how to stand up for themselves and I know now how differently I would have dealt with it if I were the me that I am now, then.
At the dance, he proceeded to get pretty drunk and would follow me around, holding me, insistent that I stay with him. After about an hour of this, a small horde of firemen descended upon me and one, Ben, came to me and said that they had seen what was happening and that they would surround me from then on in.
We all left the dance to go to the firehall to play pool soon after and within about 30 minutes my boss was outside screaming to get in through the door that they had locked.
I stayed there and finished my rotation, never to return to the F&W Branch. I moved into Ben's trailer and was never paired up with my boss again. Once the other people there realized that I was an unwilling part of what had been happening (no, there was no sex involved) they too, kept an eye out and eventually one of them told me that he had a history of doing what he had done to me.
Ben and I did end up having a relationship and although I think that on my part it was to do with being so grateful to him for being my unlooked-for knight in shining armor, for him, it was love.
I remember one night off we drove to the nearest city, which was two hours away, and watched that Arnold movie about him being a spy and Jamie Lee Curtis not knowing...I can't remember the name. On the drive back I was drowsing a bit and I felt the car slowing down on the highway. He whispered my name and I opened my eyes to a cougar standing three feet away from the car, framed in the headlights, staring in at us, before giving us a disdainful flick of his head and moseying across to the other side. It is a beautiful and vivid memory that I hold very dear.
When I went home to the city, we kept in touch and he visited me once in a while. During those visits it became painfully obvious that I was a city girl and he was, well, uncomfortable in my world. He was pretty stubborn though and I think he thought he could change my mind, eventually I would revert back to the girl who had grown up in the forests and the fields.
Once, he took it into his head to buy a horse and one day in the mail, I received pictures. He had named her 'Jenny'.
Every year, on Valentine's Day, from 1995 to 2000, he called me at 12:01 and asked me to marry him.
The next year, he flew in from the remote town that he lives in Northern BC to take me out for dinner and tell me he was getting married. That was the last contact we ever had.
The funny thing is, years later, I am that girl who yearns to live in a cabin, far from the concrete and the people, with books for company and animals to tend. To wake up to the birds singing at dawn and to slip out to the lake in the middle of the night for a swim.
And, although I never would have said yes to him, I miss those Valentine's Day phone calls in a way that makes me as happy as it does sad.
lyric at post:
..i wonder if everything i do, i do instead of something i want to do more..
Friday, February 13, 2004
whew, what a nightmare *that* was
I just dreamt I was watching something called "The Great American Celebrity Spelling Bee". Hosted by someone who looked like Elaine's really stupid boss from the clothing catalogue on Seinfeld. Alice Cooper was there and Norm from Cheers (Norm!). And some bimbo who spelled hirsute, as hair-suit, probably because the definition was "a really hairy person".And then I realized I hadn't dozed off on the couch, but was actually watching TV. In the real world.
God help us all.
lyric at post:
..grab your things, I've come to take you home..
it must be my face
I walk out of the store, murmur "I'm sorry" to the homeless person outside soliticiting money and wander over to untie the dog from her parking meter where she waits patiently. He follows me and vaguely I can hear a womans voice screaming obscenities off to the left somewhere.Unlooping the leash, I hear a voice screech mushily, "A dooooooogg!" and realize that we're not going to get on our way in time. As herself must mentally work up to jumping the moat off the sidewalk to avoid wet feet, I briefly contemplate picking her up and making a dash for it.
Too late.
A very drunk man and woman rush frighteningly in towards us, nattering unintelligibly in the dog's general direction. The woman, who disconcertingly, has a mouth full of blood, insists on knowing her name as the man bends down and proceeds to tell said dog numerous jokes about canines walking into bars.
"Lacey", I say.
"Licey?"
"Lacey."
"Who would name a dog LICEY?" she screams at full volume as a glob of blood escapes from behind her lip and slides down her chin...
I can't be bothered to correct her and instead concentrate on sidling away, fascinated by the path the blood is taking down her front. Licey, of course, is playing the 'starved for affection' role and refuses to lift her ass from the pavement to help me.
Upright again, the man sticks his hand out, "John", he says.
It's not in me to be rude. I shake his hand and tell him my name, whereupon a blood covered hand appears from the other side and nudges me. "Gypsy!" shouts/sprays the woman.
"You should stop by and visit us," smiles John "we live just over there."
He points and I look over, following his finger.
40 feet away is the stairwell up from the parkade of my building.
A couple of days ago we finally had someone clean out the couch cushions and fix the light. I wonder if they appreciate the house cleaning and what they would do if they realized it was me.
lyric at post:
..search for pleasure, search for pain, in this world, now I am undying..
Thursday, February 12, 2004
sassy, instead
on the street where i livelyric at post:
..choices always were a problem for you..
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
away message
I may update the other sections and make some changes (ie :commenting) but no posts for a few days. Wave byebye to enetation and leave me a voice or two from the void - let's drown out the ones in my head, show some love, say something nasty (on second thought, don't do that), sing me a song, make a funny, go find Pob and make HIM be funny, bark like a dog, whatever.My favorite away message stands....
I am out collecting sprinkles for my breakfasty self.
lyric at post:
..dream warm and hard and true
in pieces, in colors, in a cloud of awkward blue..
I tried to beep at myself. That thing never works does it? How annoying. Abject apologies. Added Haloscan - bless them. IMHO (in my humble opinion). Do that. Farkin' eneta...*cough* *cough* Old comments look like PB's below...
PB Curtis @ 4:09AM | 2004-02-11| "Hello. Porny Boy's out being witty and popular right now. Leave a message, and I'll call you back if I can be bothered."
BEEP
click
BEEP
click
BEEP
This is your MOTHER.
BEEP
click
BEEP
click
BEEP BEEP BEEP
note to self
...I don't care if you've quit smoking (again), for the love of god, woman, don't give in to the craving for smoked oysters an hour before midnight.That nightmare sucked.
Monday, February 09, 2004
just an observation, really
I finished all that work at 4:28. Half of the respondents were IT people, the other half, geologists. And it begs to be said/observed/commented on, that the IT guys were monosyllabic and the geologists just chatted on and on. And on. It made my day very long. And to top it off, "MAAAT, I'm done!" "Did you do all of Mark's too?" "Fuck, there's more?"So, back at it again tomorrow. It would be easier if they just let me do the interviewing but some issue about my voice being too low, makes people sleepy and flirty. Maybe I'll get a squeakier girly voice when I quit smoking.
Cause, erm...I slipped this weekend. But, considering that terrifying workout video came today (thanks Chris!) I guess I'll be making another attempt at healthy pinkish lungs.
On the walk home, in between deciding if I should have big honking steak for dinner or a pork-chop, I also got an idea for the piece I think I want to write tonight. Not about cows. We should know there's nothing linear about my thinking. Something gentle, I think, cause I'm a little sleepy myself.
I vaguely recall reading something like.... "If you would drink beer with it, then you can cook it with beer." a couple weeks ago. Now, I don't know how true that is... I distinctly remember having drunk beer with some pretty strange things in my life. Like that chocolate cake at whatshernames wedding. I guess madcow in beer will be on the menu tomorrow.
And this makes me laugh - my media player now lists "I Come From a Land Down Under." gahhhhhhh! *snort*
lyric at post:
..when everyone I know has got a reason, to say, put the past away..
Monday came from out of the blue....
and as H so eloquently put it a few minutes ago....I pretty much bailed on work last week and now I'm hopelessly freaking behind, back around the corner from the rest of the world and desperately searching for someone with a map, compiling IDI's (in-depth interviews) with geologists for upstream oil and gas.
Fack, no wonder I haven't wanted to do it - sounds pretty boring actually. erm...no offense, Accent Boy.
"Listening" has gone back up on the right side now that I've headphoned up lately and started listening to music whilst working, as well as along the bottom a new little thing - the lyric being screeched/sung/crooned/shouted at time of post.
Contemplating toasting enetation and moving to haloscan. Must...follow...the..crowd. That involves some dedicated time though to save out the comments I want to keep. Not sure I have it in me right now. But the thought is percolating.
And, again, I have to say, that the people at work continually suprise me. I had this huge conversation with little SD about realizing lately that nothing big will be the deciding factor on the dog, rather, old age. Meaning, the decision will not be made for me, but by me. And although, I still think I will be putting her down in March, we dug about in the scariness of my psyche about my reluctance around this and guess what popped out? Comfort zone. I didn't use that shitload of money last year and head out to see the world so that I could stay home and spend time with her highness. She's my comfort zone - there's some little part of me that is ensuring I will never go do the things I want to, partly because the feeling is that once I go I'll never come back to Canada. Once she's gone - my commitment is over and there won't be anything holding me back. No more excuses.
And frankly, that scares the shit out of me.
That is all.
No, I lied. It's not. I just went out to drop some film off and was thinking that it would be nice to have no reasons for anything I did. A completely hedonistic view of the world and my place in it. Not that I don't...about some things - things I do because at that very moment I just bloody well want to, with no thought to whether or not I should. But that's mostly inconsequential stuff, that doesn't involve my heart. And although I get the feeling it would make me a terrible person - it would be a relief in a way to say things like - "I put the dog down cause she pissed me off that day." - and then, never give it a second thought. I know people like that. I do.
lyric at post: ..this is how you remind me, of what I really am..
Sunday, February 08, 2004
lost and found
old and updated. constructive things avoidance. one of those surveys.And the winner of my favorite person on the planet today is PB - whom I can't go a day without. For his recommendation for my Valentine's Day this year. That would probably get you laid, if you didn't live in a bog or for that matter, in a blog.
I may say something intelligent .... later. The friend I spoke about before has been given the link so I need to make some effort to be.... something. But I'm going to go lie down first, and maybe it'll pass. I've got something I want to say to myself, but I'm just not sure what it is - I'm too tired to understand the impulse and then put in the work that may require some self editing.
esch - I saw. You're wonderful! I will pick them up this week. Big air kisses.
chrissykins - I looked for you tonight, I wanted to talk and it's been so long but now I'm going to watch a movie. I'll try tomorrow night.
just a little
I said I was a bit homesick this morning.And now that it's later, I realize that's not quite true. Unless you can be homesick for something you've never had.
Because just for a moment there...you smelled and tasted and felt, oh, you felt ...like home.
Even though you're not.
And the piece of my heart that you touched will always be lonely for that which is you.
Safe and happy travels, new friend. Well met.
Saturday, February 07, 2004
right, then
I'm up. I've caught up on the blog world. I've had coffee and multivitamin. The mooch has yet to eat breakfast and is just lounging on the couch. I've put in the first of about 60 loads of laundrey.In contemplating 'Operation Housecleaning', I've just realized that the last time I spent a weekend day cleaning everything was after Billy booked. Since then, I'll clean the bathroom one day, the bedroom another...you see where that's going, right? I have to admit, I really have no idea where to start. It's like I've lost the cleaning connections in my brain.
The radio is playing "You're body is a wonderland" by John Mayer and I just can't help it, I love this song. Disparage me if you will, there's nothing I can do.
Ahh, herself obviously did not want to listen to me sing and dance and has gone to poke in some food. You see, she is indicating that she is fully awake and would like to be taken outside after she finishes eating. I truly have been spoiled by her laid back attitudes towards mornings, she's not really in a rush to get to anything. Normally she'll wake up and use her stool to get up on the bed to nudge me awake and crawl under my arm for a weekend cuddle while she waits for me to come fully awake and join her in the real world. But there really is no urgency about the whole thing even though we've been asleep for 11 hours. I honestly don't think I could adjust to spending five years or so training a new dog to be so slothlike and waiting for them to pass the puppy stage.
Ahh, housecleaning has just been delayed as H would like to go the mall from hell to buy pants.
And here's a little weird thing. I have friends, and a ton of acquaintances with whom I can hook up with if I so desire, but as previously indicated - stopped doing so, mostly, over the last two years. 90% of the people I see on a regular basis are men. I've always had more men friends than women. I met H when she joined the condo board and before I knew it, I had a new friend. Which, somehow you just don't expect when you're older. One of those call 4 times a day friends, that you spend hours and hours getting up to 'life speed' with. The last friend like that I had was before I moved here so that would be oh, 8 years ago. It's not like I'm BAD at it or anything, it's just strange. In a good way.
And since I'm pretty sure, not having bought a ticket, that I didn't wake up a gazillionaire, I best get to it.
amber @ 11:19AM | 2004-02-08| barring anything insane happening, I'm dropping off those books at the video store today. Just to let you know. if there's any you've read or whatever, just pass them on to other people :)
Friday, February 06, 2004
a-HA! see? see?
In the tubbie, just now (well, not NOW, truly) I picked up my new book "The Pleasure of My Company" by Steve Martin and right there, on page five, was the following paragraph...Uncanny, yeah?
coincidence
Do you ever think much about the weird little coincidences that happen constantly around you? I have been lately, just because there have been so many. I think of something or someONE, or mention something and then within a day or two it seems there are all these related things that pop up.You want a 'fer instance? Hmm. Getting back in touch with the boys from home, talking about Scott being a fireman and then, bang, three visits in one day from the FD at my building. Talking to someone about selling the condo and over the next three days run into my realtor and receive an email from an acquaintance extolling the virtues of her realtor boyfriend. Things like that, you know.
I think sometimes it's like buying a new car and then starting to notice that your car is everywhere you look. But that can't explain all of it and it's been happening to me in an overwhelming way lately.
Take tonight for instance. Mentioning I'd quite like to get laid and an hour later, a text message on my phone.
From the Aussie.
Now, I do have to say here that that's not in the cards but for sheer fulfillment of wishful thinking ...it rates about a hundred on the ...whew... doIhaveadirtylittlemind scale.
After he popped by for lunch last Friday, I sent him off to pick up his rental car. His plan was to do some boarding on the way to the West coast, then head to the US to stay with some old friendlike people before going back up to Vancouver to catch a flight home after four weeks.
According to his txt message, he's heading back here and wants to go out tomorrow night. His plans must have changed.
How lucky for me.
I believe he's been staying in hostels and had offered up the condo if he was back this way in the summer, so tomorrow I guess I'll be doing some house cleaning and giving him the couch (yes, e, the couch).
It's just strange, is all I'm saying. Maybe I should be testing it by saying, "Wow, I'd really like to win that 32 million." and then buying a ticket, but somehow I think that would jinx it.
Whatever it is.
clearly, you're just incompetent
Moving from proposal stage to interview stage in the search for a new condo company and not a moment too soon.After all our efforts with the pipes bursting last week, in calling about an alarm on the panel last night, we discovered that we've had no security or fire alarms for the last 10 days. So, whoever told H that we were all good must have had their head up their ass. Compounded by the fact that our management company never bothered to follow up, the security company (who's name, Chubb, makes me laugh - the old 80's adages of 'woody' and 'chubbie' always do....as in "Whoaaaaa, would you check that chick? I'm getting a chubbie.") never told anyone that we had no service etc, etc, fill in 10 other fuckups here. So, not only a potentially life-threatening, financial disaster for everyone who owns here, illegal and seriously fucking dangerous situation, no one wanted to take responsibility. End result, we get three months free monitoring. Gee, thanks.
I'm just tired of all of it. Stop the world, I want to get off. And speaking of getting off, I'd like to do that sometime this millenium too.
We drank three bottles of wine and crawled into bed about 2:45 so tonight I'm catching up on all the shows I missed last night and hitting the sack as soon as the last one rolls credits.
I'll be witty tomorrow.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Christmas pics
Lacey and Willie. The last one is my favorite, it looks the most like she looks to me, all soft edges and cutie little muzzle, happily ignoring the tedious things I do to her...
luckycharm @ 12:28PM | 2004-02-06| :O) Beautiful.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
apocolypse tomorrow... instead
I called the vet today to get her opinion on what was going on, left a voice mail explaining what was happening and checked with the receptionist to see if someone would be around all night if I stopped by later for another month's worth of food. All good.H and I got there about 6:20 pm. Door locked. Could see my vet in there talking to someone so we waited about 20 minutes in the freezing cold before hitting the car again to warm up. Dashing back from the car and catching the vet, she explained that they close at 6 and the receptionist must have thought I meant...later...before 6. She went on to say she hadn't called me back because she figured she'd talk to me when I got there.
Regardless, she spent about 15 minutes going over what she was thinking about Lacey all day. And that was... (close your eyes if you're squeamish)... loss of bladder spincther (I spelt that wrong, I know) control due to age. She doesn't think the problem with the kidneys is as bad as I've worked myself into thinking. If it were only the kidneys, she says, then Herself would have no appetite and would be throwing up. Loss of appetite, frankly, is a nonexistent issue.
She agrees with the decision I made last night, as she thinks that we are truly at the end stage of her life, but she thinks also that it may not be quite that time yet. Her exact words were, "We have to admit that Lacey is downright ancient, but even when I saw her in December she was vibrant and happy (creepy that those were my exact words) and if she had an infection then, I can't imagine how much better she must be now. I get the feeling that what does her in will not be her kidneys and if there were a myriad of things wrong with her then I might say we should go ahead with your decision in March but if this is the only thing we're seeing right now....I just don't think we're ready to give in yet."
So, we have some estrogen (stilbestral) to give her over the next few weeks as that has proven to be extremely effective. And I'm being billed by mail which gives me a little breathing time (and is completely unheard of), all good news, as was the waiving of the mortgage change fee for me this morning and the $35 less I pay for each payment with the change of dates.
There is every possibility that we could be wrong, having done no tests as mom can't afford them and going on the instincts and care that my vet obviously has for animals. So, my decision stands for now. I'll be driving out in March regardless, so at that point I can make a decision on how she's doing and bring her along if that is what is in the cards.
So, by no means a cure or even a concrete idea, but a little bit of a reprieve all the same.
I took H out for dinner, after being so wonderful as to drag me about and then we hit Walmart, where I spent a shitload of money. Cause I never get to go there. But, I got lots of good stuff for the house, like 40 rolls of TP. All those awkward things that are too hard or heavy to carry home in the freezing cold and are cheap enough compared to shopping downtown that they'll save me money in the long term.
Along with some lamb ears as a treat - one of which was promptly devoured on videotape for prosperity.
And, one treat for me, replacing the flat green shower curtain with one that'll make me smile every morning....
Next up is a haircut and pictures with me as there are tons of her, but none of our little family unit, but for now that will have to wait for another payday.
And also, a breather from subjecting all of you to the woes of my day-to-day life and a promise to go back to relaying the good and amusing things that come in almost equal measure.
luckycharm @ 6:19PM | 2004-02-04| more time together is good :O) and the frog shower curtain is cute!
chris @ 11:58PM | 2004-02-04| You can't ever have too much TP. My son would love your shower curtain. :)
Liusia @ 10:31AM | 2004-02-05| I'm so happy to hear that your puppy will keep chugging along for the time being. It's so hard, when they get to this part of their lives - every illness seeming like it could be the last...for what it's worth, I think you've made the right decision. They don't understand illness except, I think, that they hurt, and they don't need an extra week or month or year to make peace with their God or whatever. You just have to let the poor dumb animals live as long as they're happy and comfortable, then let them go to where they can be happy and comfortable again. I'm glad to hear that you're going to give her a chance, but not unnaturally prolong her life if she starts suffering.
Monday, February 02, 2004
decision making process
After all these years of having a part of me think that the dog would outlive me, well...she's not going to. And yessiree, we all get to watch me come to some sort of decision about this.hmmm....background here: She's deaf. Well, at least for the last 4 years. And since she can't hear me, she follows me everywhere. She was just sleeping beside the bed but with me getting up and her not seeing the bathroom light go on, within about four minutes she comes out to lay on the couch so she can watch me sit at the computer. When I get up in the morning and get in the shower about three minutes in this little head comes peeking around the shower curtain, you can almost hear her say, "Just checkin'!" before she goes into the kitchen to eat. Last time I went away I couldn't pick her up for a couple of days and I swear I saw her out of the corner of my eye constantly, I couldn't sleep without her in the room with me.
I refuse to keep her alive if she's in pain or unhappy, but honestly, she's happier than a pig in shit (to use an old farm phrase) - a little stiff, an infection here and there. But, she is 16 and I don't go away anymore cause I can't bear to leave her with anyone else. Not that I'm the big travelling mama for the last few years but that's partially to do with her. I'm too afraid that someone will not pay attention and she'll blow the other knee or run out in the street and be hit by a car and frankly, that would kill me, if I left her alone and something happened.
So, here's the problem, the dilemna, the crux of the matter, if you will...
Her kidneys are going. I can't deny that anymore. And although she's still a vibrant and happy girl, I have two choices (but, stop me if I'm wrong here, please). I can commit to fluid therapy, IV's, medication or I can plan to put her down.
Now, we all know I can't afford all that stuff. I could find a way, I think, if I committed to that course of action, so let's just pretend that's not an issue here.
I've been planning on going back home in March, as a reward for quitting smoking and so have been looking into renting a car so she can come with me -she loves to car-ride, as really, I can't go without her.
So, do I spend as much quality time with her for the next 7 weeks, choose to put her down and then go away for a little while? I think if I took her with me and did it when I got home that would be too much for me. The travelling would be hard on her and it wouldn't be quality time as there's things I'd like to do back home, I'd end up either resenting my friends or resenting her. But it that a little too calculating? Calculating time to mourn and time away from the hardest part which will be coming back to a home without her in it for the first time in 12 years? Or do I try to save her (they say therapy may give them months to years) and just let her decide when it's time to go?
My thinking here is, I won't necessarily be prepared...I'll never be that...but is it better to plan to put her down when she's still kind of okay rather than take the chance either that she'll get better and live another year or two or that I've caused her fear and pain only to have her die sick and unhappy? Going out on a high note, so to speak? I don't honestly think at her age that she can be expected to live past 17 or 18, even in the best of health. And frankly, after 12 years of secondhand smoke, whatever dog food I could afford and spotty health care, she's not a pet that could be considered to be at her prime.
I don't care here what anyone thinks about pets/humans, I really don't. She's not 'just a dog' to me, so let's get that notion out of our heads. But this situation puts me in mind of Todd. They knew he was dying and they waited until the end before they told us. Our time with him was spent at a dying man's bed during the last week of his life. I'm not even sure he ever really knew we were there. Shari has a friend who is having the same thing happen to him but he's told everyone and so they get to plan to spend time with him now. And yes, I know that the humans don't have someone to choose for them when to die, but is this a responsibility that I have to her?
Would she want me to make the decision if she understood what was going on? Would I want someone to make that decision for me? Would you?
e @ 10:34AM | 2004-02-03| Tough call, really, the euthanasia issue, and worse if it's adog because they can't communicate their wishes to you. They tend to be far more pragmatic about illness- not comparing their current condition to how they used to be means that emotionally there are no issues about disease for a dog. They don't feel well, but they don't worry about it. Until she starts to be moribund, she won't actually feel ill. You will notice when she is actually dying- she will lie down all the time, and be weak. I don't buy into that loss iof dignity stuff with animals. She doesn't care about her leaky bottom. I would suggest that you do nothing and see how she goes. If she has kidney failure, she will not live long anyway. If she seems in pain I'm sure you would have to medicate that. But I personally would not go in for intensive care for a dog. She will be more bothered by that than by being ill, and it will only prolong her life by a few months. I think that that level of care is anthropomorphistic and possibly cruel to animals since they don't understand what it's about... I hope this doen't all sound too callous. It's just what I would do.
luckycharm @ 6:45PM | 2004-02-03| i will try again. the messages were long. my recommendation is to keep munckin until she is no longer in a comfortable existence. put diapers on her. spend the next seven weeks as if you are putting her down. do what you need to do...love her and know whatever your decision is is correct and out of love...and i believe she will know this. i would take no extraordinary measures to keep her alive. it's not good for you or her. when she is no longer a happy and vibrant girl...then is the time to let go. (my thoughts anyhow). put her in a diaper and take her with you. if she loves car-rides, this may be the ultimate one, don't worry about spending time with her while you are visiting. she knows you love her. she will be happy to go along.
luckycharm @ 7:23PM | 2004-02-03| ...one last thought...and it's going to sound stupid...but you don't need to pick the time...let her pick the time (she'll let you know and you'll want to deny it but you won't be able to).
Busy
Busy, busy work. Then off to a completely incomprehensible discussion of mutual funds and what I should do with my money.It came down to, finally, "Right then, so what do you suggest?"
insert adult voices from Charlie Brown cartoons here... "mwah maw blah blah"
"Sounds fabulous, let's go with that."
And then of course, do I pay him with a front-end commission or a back end something or other else? My understanding was get all the money working for me - the investment company pays him (cause you know, there's oodles of cash there, worth at least oh, 5 minutes of his time). In the event that I take the money and run, I have to pay it then. Which because it's a locked-in fund, I can't really do. Well, unless he pisses me off so much that I want to bail - which I clarified.
He found that quite erm...charming or something, as he then referred back a couple times to "as you so eloquently put it....." further along in the conversation.
He's good though, I trust him. Seemed like a trustworthy guy.
Like I know.
And here's the burning question of the day..... all they need to know about my beneficiary is his name. He has no middle name. They don't need a city, an address, an age, a government identification number. Nothing. How do they find these people when I kick it? Just a thought.
I spent the weekend, asleep and now have emails galore to catch up on, three days of exercise I didn't do and countless other things I'm going to put off again, obviously, in favor of dinner, a hot bath and a cuddle with the clean smelling puppy dog, before getting up to resign the mortgage papers and doing it all again tomorrow.
It's only -11C though, feels like we should all be flinging off our clothes and cavorting under the moon in celebration.
luckycharm @ 7:08PM | 2004-02-03| i don't know how they will find your beneficiary. just know inside you, you selected the person you wanted to be your beneficiary...then trust they will find him.
e @ 7:59PM | 2004-02-03| Hehe. It's 0C here!!! Viz no gloves, no hat, no neckwamer, open jacket. And it's snowing again, with 25cm forecast. Almost feels like spring.
Balzac Billy and Willard
He's a groundhog, or a gopher or a prairie dog ... or something. Alberta may be all proud of being a rat free province but our little prairie dogs are just as abundant. A rat moment...Back to BB...Here's the theory, every year in the freezing cold, all the newscasters huddle about this poor bastards burrow (and it's probaby not even the same one from year to year as farmers hunt them and road kills are high for the little cutie pies), to see if he comes out and sees his shadow. If he does, six more weeks of winter.
He did. Not the most cheering news to wake up to.
Apparantly, he's accurate 83.9% of the time. I'm pretty sure that's better then 99.9% of the weather forecasters.
But, six more weeks? Thanks, little fella, appreciate that. His website and history is here.
luckycharm @ 7:14PM | 2004-02-03| it's funny, because i read about the one little fellow they follow in (I think) Pennsylvania or is it New Jersey...the groundhog called Phi..and I am upset. Why? Because I read there were people that "Boo'd" him. This is the first time I ever read that people boo'd the groundhog. Am I nuts to say it made me mad they did that. Give me a break. Must everything...even the course of the seasons (ebbs and flows of the earth) be directed by human convenience?
Jen @ 9:00PM | 2004-02-04| of course! Get with the program, silly girl. The scary thought is, humans are directing our weather, by having abused the planet for so long - the groundhogs should be booing us.
