Messy.

That's me: messy.

The past few months have been weird for me emotionally. I go from crying at my desk, at home, on the phone, heartbreaking unhappiness to being very happy and having a lot of fun, making jokes and being in a genuinely good mood, and back to being an emotional black hole again. The change can take place over a number of days or in a matter of hours.

I think a lot of it is winter, and snow. I'm just sooooo tired of the white. I'm craving green, and flowers and some blue sky. Some of it is working two jobs and my inability to say no to volunteer things (I don't mean the Heart and Stroke stuff, I mean the local production I wasn't going to be in and am now singing two songs and sewing three costumes for), and my general burning of my candle not just at both ends but straight up the middle as well. Some of it is my frustration with having even less time with my husband than I used to (working and rehearing on weekends is eating into the only time we have to spend together). There's money stress, still.

There are other things going on too. I am achy all the time; joints, muscles, back/head. I'm experiencing insomnia again like I was a while back, but I'm out of the sleep aids my former doctor prescribed. I'm comfort eating like crazy.

I stood in my friend's kitchen last night and cried because she's got a little shelf up with a few life-affirming kind of things on it; exactly the kind of thing I'd like to make for myself, but I just can't get motivated to put away my laundry, never mind pull together something like that.

I know I need to see a doctor, that there's something here beyond me just being tired, but there aren't any available in my city right now, and no-one at a walk-in clinic is going to help me.

I don't like myself when I'm like this, but when I don't like myself I don't think I deserve to be good to myself and do things that are good for me, and would in turn help me be the me I like. It's like a reverse catch-22. And it's messy.

Edited to add: Can you tell today isn't one of the good ones?

Giving back

One of the myriad reasons I wanted to get a job closer to home was so that I could make some time to do volunteer work, and become more involved in my community. Back in November when I was labouring under the delusion that I would be finished with job #2 in mid-January, I signed up to canvass for the Heart and Stroke Foundation in February, which is Heart Month here.

February arrived, and I still had the extra job, and then I got a sinus infection, and there was a lot of snow, and I am a master procrastinator.

Finally, last night, I went out to ask my neighbours for donations. I expected to be turned away, or told off. I didn't expect to gather $50 in donations from 15 houses, in less than an hour. Today I'll be adding my own donation, as well as one from a co-worker.

Next February, no matter what else is going on, I plan to make this a priority. The H&S Foundation is an excellent cause and it's important to me to help them out, but it also helps me out, because I feel good about giving back.

I'm not a big fan of reality television for a number of reasons. For one thing, I don't feel there is a whole lot of reality there. Even voting shows like the Idol franchises (which I admit to being a guilty pleasure) are stacked by websites that attempt to convince people to vote for the worst contestants in order to skew the results. Mostly, I don't like reality shows because I don't like watching people be mean to each other. I even had to give up on the Amazing Race because of the negativity of one family a couple of seasons back.

Starting on Sunday, Oprah Winfrey ('cause she doesn't already have enough going, my goodness!) will be hosting her own reality show: Oprah's Big Give. The premise of this show is that she will give the contestants some money and they have to turn it into more money, and then give it all away. The person who gives away the most money over the course of the show is the winner. I'm pretty sure that they're all winners, really, 'cause giving back does that to you. I'll be watching the show, and hoping that competitiveness doesn't overshadow the goodness.

And the wisdom to know the difference

I was privileged this weekend to support one of my friends on his first birthday. Saturday night we attended his AA meeting where he celebrated one year of sobriety. It's been a rough year for him, but he has succeeded, and we are so very, very proud of him!

It was much like meetings are portraying in the movies: a church basement, with plenty of coffee on hand and folks introducing themselves by saying "Hi, I'm _____ and I'm an alcoholic". Most people know the part of the Serenity Prayer that figures larely in the AA recovery program, but there was another part of the meeting that really spoke to me. It goes along with the "one day at a time" philosophy, but takes it a little further. The basic message is that you can't do anything about yesterday because it's already past, and tomorrow isn't here yet, so there's no point in worrying about that either. Today is the day that is important; today is where you can make a difference to yourself, to people around you, to the world at large. It's a good way of looking at things, and I'm going to try to add it to the stuff I'm working on.

In other news, I got a prescription for antibiotics on Friday, and my face is feeling better. Things are draining, which brings on a whole new level of ick, but I don't feel full of lava anymore, and I can think again which is nice.

My face hurts!

I think I may have a sinus something going on. The front of my head hurts on the inside and I feel all puffy. And my ears keep popping. Wah!

I got myself a neti pot a while ago, but have been too lazy to use it regularly. When I get home from second job after 11 at night and still have to herd animals before I can fall into bed to get up at 6:15 (although at least it's not 5:15 anymore!), pouring salt water through my head isn't high on my list of things to do.

I have a hard time doing things that I know are good for me. I don't eat as well as I should because I don't want to make the time to make the food. I don't get as much excercise as I should because the few evenings I have to myself, I'd really rather just knit and drink tea. I can't figure out if it's laziness, or if it's that I don't think I'm important enough, or if I'm just too bleeding tired.

There have been inroads. Quietly, with no fanfare or quit meters, I quit smoking on Nov. 25. I can tell that this time it's for good. There is a different quality to it this time, and also the smell of cigarette smoke is making me gag these days.

A friend introduced me to Yoga Booty Ballet, and I love it! A minumum of once a week I am getting a half hour of cardio excercise. I go over to her house right after work (after stopping to let out the dog and feed the cats at home) and she feeds me dinner then we jump around in her living room. I also bought the dvds for myself and jump around in my own living room on days when I don't have to go to second job after first job. I've also been keeping an eye on portion sizes when I eat and have lost a few pounds in the past couple of weeks.

But I'd still rather sit on my couch and knit, and drink tea.

It's that time of year!

Happy Lupercalia!


moar funny pictures

FOs

Heh. It looks like I'm swearing up there, but I'm not. That's knitterly short form for Finished Objects.



Like this Wonder Woman set:

And this square for the Pratchgan:

The WW set was made as part of a gift for a team member at work who is moving to another team. If I make another one of these (and I'm pretty certain I'm going to have to) the crown needs to be a bit bigger and the wrist thingies need to be smaller.

The Pratchgan square is called "The Ankh" and is being mailed off to Fife to be attached to a bunch of other squares. When it's all done it will be sent off to Terry Pratchett. This is a project from the Ank-Morpork Knitter's Guild on Ravelry. When the news broke that Terry was diagnosed with early on-set Alzheimers, we wanted to do something for him to send our support. What to knitters do? They do this.

I have other things on the go, but can't seem to get them done, so for now they remain UFOs.

Dammit.

Heath Ledger is dead. I've been sitting at my computer for about an hour puttering and crying. which is dumb, because it's not like he was a friend, or someone I'd ever met. But I liked his acting. And he was very pretty and one of the few actors I've ever had a major crush on. I'm looking forward to the Batman movie this summer where he plays the Joker, but it's going to feel different now...

It seems that he overdosed on prescription pills. Some sites are saying he had a substance abuse problem. Whatever. I'm sad for his family, and for his friends, and for his fans.

Too young. Dammit. RIP.

I can't think of a good title so this is what it is

I am not a gardener-type. I have been known to kill cactus.

This morning I repotted the plants that sit on my desk.

Vera came from the grocery store. She was in a tiny little pot and marked down to 99 cents so I had to bring her home with me. She has flourished since then!

Rex is a Begonia Rex. When he is happy, he has beautiful purple and green leaves. He was very, very happy on my last desk, but all the moving around and a few weeks with too much sun and not enough water has made all his leaves fall off. He is still alive though, and I'm hoping that the new pot and soil will help him perk up.

Violet was a gift to me from a friend at my last job. While we were there she bloomed almost continuously. Since October she hasn't even shown a bud. Again, I'm hoping that a new pot and fresh soil will bring back her fatness.

I have set up that little corner with some of my angels. This is a good job and environment for me, but I'm still trying to find my really comfortable spot. I hope that fixing my plants up will bring some comfort to my space.

Want!

I like the concept of the sock club. You sign up and pay your money, and every few weeks you get yarn and a pattern in the mail. There are many clubs out there, all with their own merits.

But.

This is the one I want with the burning passion of a thousand fiery suns:

The Flock Sock Club

Why? Because she (The Tsarina of Tsocks) designs stuff like this:

Cookie's Garden

They are works of art.

Ah, well. Maybe by 2009.

And since I can't end the post on a whine:

She wants a cookie!

Yum!

I am having organic goat yoghurt with organic rasperry jam in it. It's so much better than regular fruity yooghurt!

Whee!

Yeah, that's about all I've got. Anything else I have to say would be all complain-y, so I'm just going to stop there.

Yum!

Excellent Perqs!

So the new company I work for isn't giving us a Christmas party this year.

Instead, they booked the Air Canada Centre in Toronto for a private concert.

The Tragically Hip

And Van Halen!

They were both fantastic! Traffic getting into Toronto was super stupid so we missed about half of the Hip, but we still got to hear Bobcaygeon and 100th Meridian, and I found out from people who got there before us that they didn't play either of my favourite songs before we got there, so I don't really feel like I missed anything.

At intermission we discovered that we'd been sitting in the wrong section! That's why the photo of the Hip is at a different angle than the other ones. As it turned out our actual seats were even better than the ones we accidentally stole. I couldn't figure out how to get the BlackBerry camera to zoom in more, so it looks like we were farther away than we were. The seats we had would have cost over $200 each at a regular concert!

For a group that's been playing since 1972, Van Halen is still just so fantastic! I actually think they may be better musically now that they're living less of the "rock star" kind of live. David Lee Roth and Eddie Van Halen are in phenomenal shape (one was in leather pants, the other shirtless - my friend Leslie was thrilled!), and David can still get those high-kicking split jumps going! Eddie's 16 year old son is touring with them playing the bass. From his stage presence he seems shy, but wow! what a talent that kid has! And I can only imagine how amazing it must be for him and his dad to be touring together, and sharing this passion.

This is Leslie being thrilled. *grin*

The drummer (Alex Van Halen, Eddie's elder brother) did a 15 minute drum solo that I thought was going to be the highlight of the night. Then David told a story and sang while playing an acoustic guitar, and I thought that was going to be the highlight. THEN, Eddie did a 20 minute lead guitar solo that, well, as Leslie said "I didn't know it was possible to make that many different sounds with one instrument!" It was awesome, in the proper sense of the word. They saved "Jump" for the encore, and pretty much everyone in the stadium (14000 people) were on their feet for it.

It was definitely better than any Christmas party could ever be!

I made this!

This is what I did with my night last night instead of painting my sewing room or cleaning the house. It's a gift for a friend's birthday.




I think I need to get one of those jewelery store busts for showing off this kind of stuff.

Tiny Green Eyes

People are turning up pregnant all over the place! I know three people who are due in June, and it's all very exciting, and I have a giant list of things I want to knit. I am so happy for these friends (although very sorry that they are dealing with being sick) and I can't wait to see/meet the new people they are creating.

That said, when I found out last night that ex-best friend is trying to get pregnant, I got a little jealous. It was only a flash, only for a moment, but there it was. It probably had more to do with the "who" than the "what", and I recognize that.

We want to have a child (maybe more if we can manage the first one ok and don't misplace it or something), but we know that we need to get a better handle on things like money and cleaning the house regularly before we embark on the whole adding-a-person-to-the-household thing. Plus, with the five animals in the house, I'm not sure where we'd put a baby right now; it's already a little crowded. So we're being responsible, and grown-up, and trying to make the right decisions.

But, dammit! I want babies too!

Wellington Fibres

Here are the photos from the trip to Wellington Fibres.

These are the breeding herd goats.

This is a boy goat, who is waiting to be sold to another farm.



This is fleece that has been dyed, and it waiting to be washed.

This is washed fleece, hung up to dry.

Picked fleece (that's the step after drying; it takes out all the extra bits of stuff) going into a carder.

And coming out the back end of the carder.



These are the roving cakes that are make by the carder, waiting to be fed into the spinning machine.


This is the spinning machine.

This is a skein of spun yarn.

And this is the store!

I don't have photos yet of the lovely yarn...Mom spoiled me with enough for a sweater, and I got two colours of merino/mohair blend that will make Fred and I each a pair of socks.

The cake was wonderful - both to eat and to look at. Fred did a fantastic job! But I forgot to take a photo, sorry.

A weekend in the country

Ok, so, really only a morning in the country, but I couldn't pass up the chance to hum a little Sondheim.

Anyway!

Tomorrow morning I am accompanying my mother, some of her guild members and some of the London Handweavers and Spinners guild to a goat farm! Wellington Fibres is about a 30 minute drive from home. They raise angora sheep, which produce mohair. Mmmm...mohair. I'm taking a camera with me. And some cash. But the debit card stays at home.

While I am out playing with goats, Fred will be at home baking this cake. We're going to a pot-luck Hallowe'en dinner party tomorrow night, and he decided while flipping through my Martha Stewart catalogue, that this would be our contribution, and that he would be making it.

I should be home from the goat farm by about two, just in case.

Day by Day

We did not have to make a trip to the vet today! Roo is doing much better: she's eating and drinking and not vomiting! She's kept everything down for 36 hours, now we're waiting to see when/if she'll have a bowel movement. Let me tell you, I never thought I would look forward to picking up dog poop.

Her balance is still off, and she falls over when she shakes her head or tries to chase a cat - but at least she's back to wanting to chase cats.

Thanks everyone for your good thoughts and wishes.

It doesn't look good

This is Roo. Up until last Thursday she was pretty darn healthy for a senior puppy. Sadly, although the head tilt is going away, she's still vomiting. On the vet's advice we've tried switching her hard food for soft, tried not giving her the anti-biotics, tried giving her Gatorade. She'll eat or drink a little and then at some point later on it all comes back up again. We were hopeful yesterday - she went for almost 24 hours without bringing anything back up again, but today... let's just say we're going through paper towels at an accelerated rate. The vet says that if the vestibular disorder diagnosis was the correct one, we would have seen a marked improvement within 3 days so it is likely something else. We'll wait to see how she is on Friday, but if there is no improvement, we will probably have to say good bye to Roo this Saturday.

The good, the not-so-good, and the downright crappy - updated!

It's been a crazy couple of weeks.

The good: the new job is exciting and only a half-hour drive from home, compared to the roughly two hours each was I was travelling. I miss my friends from the last job, but that's about it. As a going away gift, the company gave me a round-the-world tea package. Once a month for the next 6 months, I will get two fancy teas in the mail. Usually people who quit there get a "Don't let the door hit you on the way out" kind of good-bye, so the gift was quite a pleasant surprise. I got spoiled for my birthday this year too, with knitting books and yarn and more tea and an evening with Fred (he works the afternoon shift, so we don't see each other during the week usually), and I went to meet some internet knitters and eat gelato last night.

The not-so-good: Last Sunday we brought Fred's 14 year old husky/shepherd cross home to live with us. We expected that the cats would be unhappy with the change, but the level of unhappiness was far worse than we expected. Like, Zoe climbing the blinds in the kitchen then making Fred bleed really badly when he tried to get her down, then her racing across the top of the kitchen counter trailing urine (the cat's) and blood (Fred's) after her. The cats have pretty much lived in our bedroom since Sunday night, although they will go out into the hallway for food and to use the litter. We had to put a baby gate at the bottom of the stairs so that the cats live on one floor of the house, and Roo lives on the other.

The downright crappy: When I got home from knitting in public last night, Roo was sick. At first I thought it was just because she had gotten ahold of and chewed up a bunch of kleenex. So I cleaned up the carpet, gave her a drink and took her out to pee. Then she threw up again. All the water she'd just drunk. This went on all night, with her only being able to keep water down for about 5 minutes, and not wanting to eat anything. She didn't even want any peanut butter. Fred is on his way to the vet with her. We're both thinking kidney failure, and Fred said that while the vet didn't want to diagnose over the phone, he felt from her tone of voice that she agrees with us. So after a traumatic 5 days with the cats, it's about to get a whole lot more traumatic.

Edited to add: Apparently we get the slightly broken animals. Roo has the same thing that Zoe does - vestibular disorder. This is something that manifests in young cats and old dogs. I'm very happy that Roo's illness is not the worst-case scenario, but boy, it would be nice to have an animal at some point that isn't dizzy or limping or running away from dust.

Forever and a day...is how long it's taken me to get this posted.

Before the ceremony

Exchanging vows



Official kiss


Ring photo

Us with my girls

Fred getting in trouble (so it's all back to normal pretty quickly!)

In other very, very exciting news, I will be starting a new job October 1 that is only a 30 minute drive from home! Woo!

eta: Thanks to Allison, Jess and Callie for photo help!

It's like s*x, but better!

Ok, maybe not quite that good.

Still, loving Buffy and Dr. Who this just gave me a big fangirl squee, and considerably lightened up my Thursday afternoon.

Women Deliver

How badly do I want to go to this?

Women Deliver

So, so badly.

Sadly, People In Ties Inc. doesn't have a GL code for "feminist interest, and helping the women of the world".

They do have one for golf though. Hm. I wonder if I could make that work.

Circlet!

The last piece of jewelery is made!

Circlet front

Side

Back

Other side

Tonight I'll start sewing the dress together.

Two weeks! Woohoo!

I'm in Ravelry!

If you're not a knitter, or a friend/family member of a knitter, feel free to scroll down at look at my pretty wedding dress fabric.

*looks around*


*hyperventilates*


I got my invite to Ravelry!

I was all set to go quit my job so that I could stay home and knit/play on the knitting internet full time, then I realized that if I do that, there will never be any cash-ola to buy stuff to knit with, and they'd cut off my internet access.

Poop.

Whee!!!

The underskirt is mostly done.

Next, I move on the the overdress.


The necklace and earrings are made.



And I have my shoes.


I still need to make a thingy for my head (circlet won, but I'm still figuring out how to make one).

I am still waiting to hear back from the minister.

That's about it! Nineteen days. Woo!

Checklist

Done

~ Marriage License obtained
~ space for ceremony/Minister of Ceremonies booked
~ my ring (inherited from my paternal grandmother, via my mother - yes, I know that's an odd way of doing things)
~ Fred's outfit (he's wearing a suit and whatever shirt/tie he feels like putting on that day)
~ restaurant reservation (although I'll be confirming it again a little closer to the date. The girl (and yes, I mean girl, not woman) seemed a little distracted and giggly when I called, and thought I said five, not twenty-five)
~ asked friend to take photos
~ guest list finalized (of course, with only 25 people invited, that was pretty quick)
~ asked my mom and Fred's oldest friend (who just happens to be here from Texas at the time!) to be our witnesses

Still to do

~ get Fred's ring
~ get fabric for my dress, figure out what I'm putting on my head (I can't decide between a beaded snood, or a beaded circlet), make dress/jewelery/head thing
~ make and send invites that need mailing, hand out the rest, make map to go in invitations
~ talk to Minister of Ceremonies about the ceremony to find out how it all works, and if we can have music
~ if we can have music, find some (we have ideas, but nothing concrete)
~ figure out what I'm missing and do that

Less than 30 days people! Woo!

Official Announcement

The date: Friday August 3rd

The time: 1:00 pm

The place: Evergreen Seniors Centre, Guelph

The thing: We're gettin' hitched!

The dress. The one on the left, with the underskirt. Which won't have the fabric bought for it until less than a month before the wedding. Yipes!

Woohoo!

There are wonderful people in this world.

Today someone did something wonderful for me. Ok, technically she did it a while ago, but I'm only just finding out about it today.

I got home from work to find a bright turquiose squishy envelope in with my mail. I looked at the return address and thought "who do I know who lives there?" Then I opened it and found this:



This is Socks That Rock sock yarn from Blue Moon Fiber Arts. It is hand-painted. It is something I have wanted to try since I discovered sock knitting, but have only admired from afar until now, since we keep having to do things like spend rent money on sick kitties.

A woman named Johanna I know a little from the ren fest I used to work at, who is the sister to a close friend of mine and who once helped me try to find a job got me yarn. She got me wonderful, happy-making, beautiful, hand-painted sock yarn in a colourway called Puck's Mischief.

All I can say to her is thank you.

Zoe is much better and says thank you too, for making my day so much brighter.

Well, now. That's not shocking at all.

You're The Mists of Avalon!

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

You're obsessed with Camelot in all its forms, from Arthurian legend
to the Kennedy administration. Your favorite movie from childhood was "The Sword in
the Stone". But more than tales of wizardry and Cuban missiles, you've focused on
women. You know that they truly hold all the power. You always wished you could meet
Jackie Kennedy.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I re-read this book about once every two years. It's a favourite, and got me interested in the Arthurian legends in the first place.

Update. Without photos.

I've been wanting to update. I've been wanting to post photos. I just can't seem to be awake in my house long enough to find the camera, take the photos and sit down at the damn computer.

So, photoless, I update.

Zoe is doing much better. So much better in fact that a pie plate (with pie still on it!) was knocked off the top of the refrigerator. I also come home every day to the taped-up cupboard where the garbage lives wide open. Sometimes with garbage on the floor. And the daily struggle for dominance between Sabre and Zoe is back up to normal levels. We've got another week of anti-biotics, and two more doses of Prednisone, and another follow-up visit to the vet on Tuesday. There was one recurrence of Zoe having a dizzy spell, after (while chasing Sabre) she bonked her head on the bottom of the coffee table, but it passed quickly and didn't keep them from moving on to I Am The Boss, No I Am The Boss, Round 478. Dorky cats.

I finished (and wore) my first pair of non-vanilla socks. For those unfamiliar with the term, that means they are the first socks I've done with a pattern on the leg and top of the foot. They're Roza's Socks by Grumperina from the latest Interweave Knits. I'm now on incarnation 4 of a pair I am designing myself, using Debbie Bliss Cashmerino in some light orange colour. I am also using up the ends of my first four pairs of socks by knitting in stripes. It's fun! They're gonna be a butt-ugly combo of blue/brown, red with multi-coloured flecks, purple/blue, and olive-drab green.

A couple of weeks ago I said good bye to Shadoe, my husky dog. We got him as a puppy when I was in Grade 12. That means that he was somewhere in the neighbourhood of 17 years old, a fantastic age for a dog. When I went off to University he stayed with my parents. When I finished University, I moved to Toronto to live in a succession of apartments, which is no way for a big dog who loves to run to live. So he stayed with my Mom, and moved with her to the farm when she and her partner bought one. He was very, very happy there, and I think that (along with the fact that my mom and step-dad take very good care of their animals) is why he lived to a venerable age. They had him put to sleep because even though his he had arthritis and was deaf, and probably mostly senile, and they kept hoping he'd just go in his sleep, his heart was very strong. So we finally all said good bye to him. It was hard, but he was getting to the point where his pain wasn't manageable anymore, so it was time, maybe past-time. I'm very happy that my mom and step-dad took such good care of him, I think much better than I would have been able to. So thank you to them, and thank you to Shadoe for being such a lovely boy.

Yesterday I spent the day at The Church of the Holy Trinity with about 100 other witches doing meditation/trancework/storytelling with Starhawk! It was a wonderful, if tiring day. There were epiphanies had, and laughter with my friends, then a spiral dance and a good dinner. It was really nice to see that there is a community of people out there who think/believe in a similar way to me.

This weekend is going to be busy. Grocery shopping then ritual tonight, band rehearsal, then a going away party tomorrow, then on Sunday I will attempt to cram two week's* worth of laundry, weeding of my garden, other assorted housework and a visit from Mom into one day.

So there probably still won't be any photos. :)


*Somebody please tell me whether the apostrophe here is wrong. Please!

Send more tuna! aka My Cat is on Prednisone

Zoe has something called a vestibular disorder. Basically, her head is tilted to the left side, and she's walking funny.

On Sunday she tried to jump up onto the kitchen counter but missed (missing is fairly normal, we don't have the most gracefull of cats in this household). I think on the way down she bashed her head. When she landed she started to do this thing that looked like she was trying to swim across the linoleum. We kept an eye on this behaviour, and talked to a friend who works in the vetrinary industry, and kept keeping an eye on things. Around midnight Zoe started yowling and looking for somewhere to hide, so we called the emerg vet clinic, packed up the cat and booted it to Cambridge.

The original diagnosis was bilateral vestibular disorder, which means the peripherhal vision in both eyes was affected. It's a neurological condition that can be brought on by anything from polyps in the ear canal to trauma to a stroke. Zoe spent the night at the emerg vet, then we picked her up at 7:30 am and tried to get a bit of sleep before going to our regular vet in the afternoon. The emerg vet had suggested trying to get Zoe in to see a neurologist, but by the time we got to see our own vet, the condition had improved enough that it's only affecting the left side of Zoe's head now and our vet felt that a $4000 MRI probably wouldn't tell us anything really pertinent. Whew!

So now I have added duties to the cat herding roster. In addition to needing to give Sabre a bit of aspirin every other day so that we don't have a repeat of the leg incident from last summer, Zoe gets two antibiotic pills a day, and one Prednisone pill a day.

Send tuna (for Zoe), send Bailey's (for me).

Early Morning

Riding the escalator up into the glass atrium after getting my morning coffee
I can see the first beginnings of the sunrise,
A backdrop for the brightly lit crane, already moving,
Building the next tall thing to bring more shade to the city.

At my desk there is a beauty in the silence;
No people, just the sound of the air intake system
And the hum of the flourescent lights
(Most of which haven't been turned on yet).

6:45 am is too damn early to be at the office.

Vacation booked!

I have just booked myself a week off at the beginning of April. I have no plans, nowhere to go, nothing pressing that needs doing. There will probably be some crafting since I'm working towards setting up my own etsy shop and will need some stock for that. I may even paint my kitchen and start getting my sewing room set up. But mostly I'm going to stay in bed late, cuddle my kitties and spend a little time with Fred.

I can't wait!

I've also booked a day of mid-April because Starhawk is doing a workshop in Toronto! Woohoo! [dances]

I've been feeling incredibly run-down, beaten down, and just generally at the end of my rope, mostly due to work and commuting. I'm hoping that a week away from it, and a bit of a spiritual jump start will help a little. There is a plan to get out of cube hell, but it's going to take some time, so I'm taking a break in the interim. Yay!

Since Meg asked...

The only revelation I got from cleaning the bathroom was that they really, really mean it when they say not to use mildew remover unless your space is well-ventilated. Chemical burns inside the nose hurt. Happily, my nose was back to normal in about 24 hrs. so that I could smell the vanilla body shop perfume that got all over the bedroom carpet when one of the cats knocked it off my dresser and the bottle broke. Gah. Vanilla's nice and all, but not that much of it all at once. It smells like a cookie exploded.

I spent some time yesterday throwing out old perfume/nail polish/make-up. I can see the top of my dresser again, and there is nothing breakable on it anymore.

It's a good thing I love my kitties.

Revelations of a Clean Kitchen

I have just spent about an hour and 19 of the songs on my "Happy" playlist cleaning my kitchen. I had some revelations. Here they are in no particular order.

1. I am a crappy housekeeper. Ok, so that's not really a revelation, more of a confirmation of facts. I'm a surface cleaner. I don't like to pick things up, or even move them forwards to swipe behind them. Fueled by a crappy day at work (see previous post) and some awesome music, I decided to actually move stuff.

2. A lot of crumbs can build up under your toaster.

3. It is possible to do aerobics while you clean your kitchen, as long as you don't mind that it will take a little longer when you have to stop to shake your rump, do a little kung fu fighting, or do a little bit of grapevining.

4. I used to be a dancer; I used to have grace and poise and rhythm. As I've aged, I've somehow turned into Hugh Grant in that scene in "Love Actually", but with more T and A.

5. Dancing is still fun, even if I do look like a giant dork when I do it.

6. It's ok that Fred is on a straight night shift. He's been home on disability for the past month, so my 'me' time has been lessened. Tonight is his first night back at work, and I had a blast by myself. I still don't want to spend forever trying to have a relationship between midnight Friday night and eleven PM Sunday night, but I'll be ok with it for a little while longer.

7. Even the cats will look at you like you've gone batshit crazy when you start jumping around your kitchen and singing into a scrub brush.

8. Grape kool-aid stains white tile floors.

9. Even if I don't want to, I will eventually have to lock the kitten in the basement.

10. I will always forget that I have just washed the floor and walk across it while it is still wet.

Wednesday is bathroom cleaning night. I'm actually looking forward to my discoveries!

She made me go in the basement! Just because I chewed through the garbage bag. It's not fair!

Note to Management Types

1. I am not an idiot. Don't talk to me like I am.

2. If you want me to do something for you, ask nicely. I am actually a person, you know, and not your bitch.

3. If you don't tell me something, I don't know about it. I am not a mind-reader.

Keep it up people, and I will shove my pointy-toed boot up your collective asses, and you can watch me shake my rump as I do the "Fire me, fire me, fire me!" dance.

Jackasses.

Best Valentine's Day Gift Ever

I got home from work last night expecting to have to shovel our front walk and change the kitty litter.

Earlier in the day I'd asked Fred to do something nice for me. My something nice for him was bringing home a Mocha from Tim Horton's (we usually just drink their coffee, not the fancy stuff).

His something nice for me was shoveling and changing the litter.

Yay!

What's that knitting rule again?

I am knitting Fred a scarf.

I've been knitting for over a year now, and have managed to learn how to knit lace, and knit socks (which at one time seemed to me to be the pinnacle of difficulty; the idea of fair-isle was overwhelming), but this $%&*# scarf is driving me batty.

First, I was using icky acrylic camouflage yarn, because he digs the camo. He picked a five-cable braid that just wasn't showing up properly in the patterned yarn.

So we switched to a dark purple merino (yay!) and started over. It was curling in on itself, and he says he likes a scarf that lays flat, so I ripped it out and changed the design.

This time I got about 8 inches of the sucker done and ... dropped a stitch. I thought that I had picked it up properly, but after a couple more rows it was obvious that I had not, because the proper crosses just weren't there. I put in a life-line and frogged it back and picked up the correct number of stitches....and realized that I hated the way it looked. Seed stitch on either side, reverse stockinette, and the cable in the middle. Muh. It would have looked great if it were going to be part of an afghan or something else, but on it's own, it was just kind of meh.

Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit. Although I did get to play with my ball winder, so that was fun (Zoe liked it too).

As I was casting on this scarf for the fourth time he says "You know what I'd like? A sweater. A cashmere sweater. Black. With red celtic cable panels up the arms, and a red celtic design on the front."

*sigh*

Upside Down

I have just been told that one of our directors has resigned. She's not my direct superior, but I have done a number of projects for her, and she has always championed me when I've needed some back up. She's going back to consulting, which I know she loves so I'm very happy for her, but I'm not so happy for me.

She was going to back me in a bid to move out of my current position into one that's a little more fulfilling for me. Now I'm afraid I'm going to be stuck (haven't heard anything from the interview last Wednesday yet). *sigh* Just when I was feeling that if I was going to have to stay at this company, at least I would have something I liked a little better going on...

I have been telling myself since last February when I started on a search for a new job that everything that fell through did so for a reason: that I still had something to learn here, that there is a different job out there that will come to me when the time is right. It's getting harder and harder to believe myself as the few things/people I enjoy about this job are slowly stripped away.

Interesting..

Borrowed from Allison (who I believe got it from Lolly):

You are a Black Coffee

At your best, you are: low maintenance, friendly, and adaptable At your worst, you are: cheap and angsty You drink coffee when: you can get your hands on it Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Why is this interesting? My caffeine intake consists of a cup of coffee when I get to work and a cup of tea at night. I do require caffeine daily, but not a lot of it.

The 'best' and 'worst' observations are pretty spot on.

Glitch in the system: parts failure.

On Monday I went for a half-hour walk at lunch time. By the time I got back I had a hot, flaring pain in my right lower-back/hip area. This isn't unusal (although the pain doesn't normally come from walking, but from long periods of standing or sitting), and is fixed by going to see Dr. Matt my wonderful chiropractor.

I was off work yesterday for a job interview (cross-your fingers for me folks, I really want this one) so I went to see Dr. Matt and he did his magic and told me to do a 10 min. on 10 min. off icing on it for the next couple of days, but that I should be ok to do excercise, as long as it wasn't too strenuous.

Last night I took the Yoga for Dummies DVD for a spin (Helen, it does sound like the same one you have). I am either too dumb or too smart for it because today I am in pain. Large font, capital letters, lots of exlamation points pain. I got out of bed this morning and realized that it hurt to sit. It hurts to stand. Any kind of movement? Owie ow ow. The only thing that doesn't hurt is lying on the floor, which is pretty frowned on at the office. So I am full of muscle relaxants and have made it to work in body, if not in brain power. Dr. Matt has office hours on Saturday, so I think I'm getting up early.

Pantsless

I went to the mall last night to buy a pair of pants.

After much frustration, I came home with 5 pairs of underwear, 3 pairs of socks, two books and a yoga for dummies DVD.

No pants.

On the bus on the way home yesterday (before going to the mall) I read this post by Crazy Aunt Purl, as well as a good portion of the 325 comments. She talks about struggling with a bajillion different diets and methods of losing weight, all guaranteed to work...yeah. It struck a chord with me. According to those BMI thingys I am obese. I don't look obese (unless I'm naked in my bathroom), but I certainly am overweight, and the last doctor's visit revealed cholesterol that's a titch too high. I've had pressure from family members for years to lose weight, and I've put pressure on myself. When I started university I was a curvy 125 lbs and was dancing 6 days a week. In my head I'm still 125 lbs so it's often a shock to me to catch sight of myself in a reflective surface. But I've been resistant and resentful and stubborn, and I haven't used all the tools I know about because "losing weight" is hard. Reading CAP's musings and the comments of all those people who have been struggling with similar stuff felt really, really good. 'Cause it's not just me.

So when I couldn't find pants that fit me properly I picked up YOU: On a Diet by Drs. Roizen and Oz (and a book of erotica, but that's neither here nor there), and a yoga DVD. The quitting smoking is sticking, so it's time to throw the next part of my loving of me at the wall and wait for it to stick too.

Today I will start not dieting. Today, I will start being more mindful.

It's a CD! We made a CD! And also a website!

I used to have the best job in the world. I got to spend seven weekends every summer for seven years dressing up funny and running around in the woods at the lost and lamented Ontario Renaissance Festival. And they actually paid me to do it! Crazy!

At the festival there were a group of women who sang together called TLC (the Trillingham Ladies Chorus). They decided they wanted to keep singing together even though they were without a home faire to do it at. A year and a half ago they needed a fill in for one show, and asked me to join them; I was thrilled to do so since even though I'd been in a band of my own at the festival, I'd been yearning to sing the pretty (and sometimes pretty dirty) songs that TLC did. After that one show, I was lucky enough to become a permanent member of the band.

We've since gone through another lineup change, changed our name and kept on singing.

Now, we're embarking on the next stage of this quest to do something we love and get paid for it. Please visit the Nero's Fiddle MySpace page (the music will start almost right away, be aware), where you can read a bit about us and hear four of our songs!

The CD itself still has to be mastered, and we're still hammering out the cover and stuff, but we've come so far from where we were already.

I'm very, very proud of us.

I've only rubbed my rock twice today!

As part of this quitting smoking thingy (please see Quit Tracker installed at bottom of blog) I did me a ritual Sunday morning. Lit a candle, burned stuff (note: that insense holder wasn't actually meant to hold a charcoal briquette, also, inhaling burning ginger, chili powder and cinnamon will make your lungs hurt more than a John Player Special), invoked and devoked, and imbued a pretty piece of amethyst with positive energies. Then I stuck a nicotine patch on my arm. Spirituality and faith is good, but that doesn't mean a little drug therapy isn't also a good thing.

This little piece of amethyst is now going everywhere I go. It's got an awesome groove on it that is just the right size and shape for my thumb, and I'm using it as a worry stone/transference mechanism whenever the craving takes me (it's also got enough heft and pointy corners that I can fantasize will make a good thunk and leave a nice mark if tossed at someone's head). Yesterday I had it in my hand almost all day. And there was a lot of deep breathing. Today, although there is still a lot of breathing (because people have the dumb and they cannot brain), I've only reached for the stone twice.

There may be progress!

Now *that* would have been funny.

But very, very bad.

I'm sending an email to someone at work with a link to the area of our internal website where they should be setting up client/project folders.


I almost sent them this as the link. As in "The part of the site you should be using is this: link".

I have just spent two minutes laughing myself silly at this.

Ah, Monday.

Who does that?

I like lists. Lists for grocery shopping. Lists for Christmas shopping. Lists of the knitting/other crafting projects I have on the go. Lists of home improvement things I want to do. Lists of what I need to get done at work. The list could go on (groan).

Partly, I need the lists so that I can keep everything straight and I don't forget the cat food, or that the dishwasher has clean dishes in it. Partly, I keep lists so that I am motivated to do things (at least in theory - "Paint the kitchen" has been on my home improvement list for about a year and a half now). My third reason for list-keeping is the satisfaction I get when I can cross something off the list. It's like saying "Look! See what I accomplished? Somebody praise me already."

Sometimes (especially at work) I will add something to my daily list that I have already done, just to have the satisfaction of having another item on my crossed-off list.

I am sincerely hoping that I am not the only person in the world who does this....

51 Things About Me

These things go 'round and 'round the internet and while I love 'em they also drive me a little crazy, since you get them over and over again. Instead of sending it on, I'm posting it here. Steal or don't as you please.

Oh, and I'm going to take out the "who is most/least likely to respond" type questions, so there will be less than 51 questions, but I'm leaving the post-title as is. Because I can.

1. FIRST NAME?
Angela
2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
Nope. My parents deliberately chose a name that no one they knew had.
3. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY?
Monday night. I really, really didn't want to come back to work.
4. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
It's a neat combo of my mom's writing and my dad's with my own flourish on it. So, yes.
5. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Vermont-style ham, but only with cheese and other nummy stuff.
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOURSELF?
I think so.
7. DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL?
There's the blog here. I haven't written in a long time. It's one of the things I want to start doing again.
8. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
Sometimes
9. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes.
10. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Goodness, no. I would really like to try hang gliding though.
11. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
PC's Granola (no raisins, thank you).
12. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Only when I wear shoes with laces. ;-)
13. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? MENTALLY OR PHYSICALLY???
Yes and no. In that order.
14. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Mint chocolate chip
15. SHOE SIZE?
Six wide.
16. RED OR PINK?
It depends.
17. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
Inability to let go of old stuff, both physically (you should see my basement) and emotionally.
18. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
Cat. She's in Malta.
20. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Brown cords and brown houndstooth checky booty things.
21. LAST THING YOU ATE?
What was supposed to be turkey soup, but turned into more of a mushy rice with turkey and vegetables thing. I burned my tongue on it, but I'm very full.
22. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
The dulcet tones of the cube farm.
23. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Sunburst Orange
24. FAVORITE SMELL?
Spring rain or freshly baked bread.
25. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Someone from Corporate Voice Services.
26. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO?
Eyes
28. FAVORITE DRINK?
Milk. Goddess help me if I ever turn up lactose intolerant.
29. FAVORITE SPORT?
Knitting
30. EYE COLOR?
Blue
31. HAIR COLOR?
Your guess is as good as mine. Somewhere in the red/brown family with bits of blonde. And roots.
32. HAT SIZE?
Tiny. I have a stupid tiny head.
33. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Sometimes
34. FAVORITE FOOD?
Food.
35. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDING?
Both
36. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED AT THE MOVIE THEATRE?
I think it was Superman Returns.
37. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Blue sweater with brown bits.
38. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Neither. Spring or Fall.
39. HUGS OR KISSES?
Yes, please!
40. FAVORITE DESSERT?
Cheesecake
43. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING?
Ancestors of Avalon, Domiknitrix
44. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
Blue wavy things
45. WHAT DID YOU WATCH LAST NIGHT ON TV?
Did not watch tv last night. There was a Scarface video game on when I got home (Fred had an extra day of vacation), then I went to Becca's house for yoga and tea and knitting.
46. FAVORITE SOUNDS?
Rain, bagpipes, kitty purrs.
47. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Meh. Indigo Girls or Sarah McLachlan, now that's a question.
48. THE FURTHEST YOU'VE BEEN FROM HOME?
France
49. WHAT'S YOUR SPECIAL TALENT?
Herding cats.
50. IF YOU WON A ROUND TRIP TICKET TO ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD, WHERE WOULD YOU GO?
The UK (that way I get more countries).
51. WHEN & WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
October 4, 1973 in Victoria Hospital. Then mom's doctor went duck hunting and forgot all about us so she had to throw a temper tantrum to get us out of the hospital. That doctor was a dork. We got a new one.

Let me sum up.

It was a good Yule/Christmas/New Year season.

I knit five scarves and a steering wheel cover, gave away a bunch of stuff, visited relatives and some friends and made a crazy big Christmas dinner.

Somewhere I have photos of Sabre and Callie under the tree. Nova won't sit under it, and Zoe wouldn't sit still long enough for me to get a picture.

I didn't get as far as sending cards this year, so to all of you out there who sent me one, I'd like to say thank you. The lack of cards doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about you all, it just means that I was terribly disorganized this year.

There were pretty lights and yummy desserts and some Christmas music, and a little bit of crying (mostly due to shopping stress). On the whole it was a fantastic couple of weeks.

Happy New Year! May we all have goodness in our lives in 2007.

End of the Year Baaa!

Bunches of people have gone before me. Possible one or two will follow. I've never really been very good at keeping up with fashion. ;-) I liked Leone's take on the organization of it, so I'm stealing her idea.

1) Harken back to your archives.
2) Collect the first sentence you wrote every month for the whole year.
3) Entertain us.

Please note: started this on the 28th. Yes, I'm slow. Added my noirbettie award (squee!) and re-added a weight-loss ticker majiggy down there at the bottom. As I was driving in to work this morning I heard on the news that another Canadian soldier was killed in Afghanistan this morning. Stolen from The Spawnkitty and Chuck. OK, so it's time to get the unhappy post off the top of the blog. Yesterday Fred's cat Sparkie died. There has been a flurry of career activity lately in the little cubefarm where I spend my days. It's been an interesting few weeks. Jeff is a soldier. Which makes me thirty-three today. Today is day three of riding the bus. I am eating a sammich.

Well, that wasn't very interesting. Let's see what happens when I put together the titles of the final post of each month.

Gettin' knitty with it. Ninja name generators. More responsibility. What's the opposite of Spring Fever? Better. Joss Wedon's Speech at Equality Now Awards Ceremongy. Ten days of freedom. My chin hurts. I'm tired of crying. Sweet lethe. Much better, thank you. End of the year baaa!

Only marginally more interesting, aside from my inability to spell. Wedon? Ceremongy? Oy. Somebody get me some Bailey's.

The Return of Sammich

Aka - I Have an Awesome Boyfriend.

Fred and I are on opposite work shifts. I have a nine to five office job, and he works as a shipper from 3:30 to midnight so we rarely see each other during the week. Fred also suffers from insomnia, which is very crappy.

Right now he's in the grips of an insomnia attack, so he was still awake when I got up at 5:15 this morning to go to work. While I took a shower and got dressed, he cooked me eggs for breakfast (he hates eggs, even the smell of them, so this is a pretty big deal), made me coffee, made me another one of those wonderful sammiches with the cheese and ham and green tomato pickle, and took out the garbage. It made my morning so much nicer to have that stuff done for me, and to have a chance to spend a half an hour with him today.

He's gone to bed now, and I hope that he's sleeping. My wonderful man.

Sammich

I am eating a sammich. It's on flax seed bread. It's made up of butter, mayo, romaine lettuce, marble cheese, green tomato pickle (like home made Branston Pickle for anyone that knows it) and Vermont-style ham (smoked with maple syrup).

It is sooooo yummy.

I very much wish that I had more than one to eat today.

Much better, thank you.

After careful application of antibiotics, eyedrops, fancy soft food and extra tuna juice, Sabre is feeling much better and no longer has to wear The Dreaded Cone.

This morning I watched her lay the smack down on Zoe and bat the kitten down half a stair case (Zoe is fine. She got up and raced around the living room seven times, then had a bath).

Life is back to normal at Casa de Furball.

So humiliating.

Last week I was fighting with that stupid kitten, and even though the girl had just clipped all our toenails, I still managed to get scratched just under my right eye. It was ok for a couple of days, then it started to bug me and it's been leaking and being itchy and making me squint and the girl says that I look like a pirate and keeps saying things like "Yar!" and "Ahoy, matey!" to me.

As if all this wasn't bad enough, this morning she stuffed me into that stupid crate and put me in that stupid moving vehicle thing and took me to the v-e-t. That's right, the bad place. It was awful.

To add insult to injury, once she brought me home again she wrapped me in a towel and put stuff in my eye. I heard her tell the boy that they have to do that SIX times a DAY, and also give me 2 pills a day in addition to the every-other-day aspirin I have to have because of that whole leg thing in the summer time.

But the worst part? The very, very worst, most humiliating part of all of this?


That's right. They stuck me in a radar dish.


And then they laughed.

Send Tuna!

Sabre is sick again. This time she's got an infected scratch near her right eye. I've taken today off so that we can go to the v-e-t and get it looked at. Send tuna and headbutts for her, and wishes for me that this isn't going to send our already precarious financial situation spiralling out of control.

*sigh*

Because I can't actually SAY this to anyone here

People, the purpose of a template, especially one that is copyrighted, is that all documents you want formatted with that template are supposed to follow it! It's not there for you to muck with so that it looks the way you want it. If you don't want it to look like the template, then don't make me format 17 documents using it then ask me to make your changes.

Gah!

At this point, I just don't give enough of a rat's ass to fight them on it.

Sisters are doing it for themselves

With apologies to Annie and Aretha.

I know, big election just south of the border. Municipal elections here on Monday. Remembrance Day this weekend. Global warming, poverty, AIDS. All very important things. People have complained that in the face of all of this, who cares that Britney left her husband? Is it really all that important? Well, no. Not really.

But.

Please understand, I am not saying that Britney and Whitney are excellent role models here. Or that they are even marginally ok role models (Reese is a pretty good role model though, I think). However, they have gone and gotten out of situations that (as portrayed by the media at least) were very unhealthy situations to be in.

Over here in real life I've known bunches of women who have been in similarly unhealthy situations. I rejoiced for each and every one of us when we figured out that we were on the wrong path, just like I'm rejoicing for these public figures.

May y'all find some strength and some peace in the getting on with life.

I heart Greyhound

Today is day three of riding the bus. So far I have slept, read and knit in my extra 3 hours a day that I have to myself. I've got some mediation music (waterfalls and wolf calls with classical music, that kind of stuff) to add to Emmeline over the weekend. My stress levels have decreased dramatically, even though my work load has gotten much, much heavier. I haven't taken even half a sleeping pill since Monday night and although I'm still waking up once or twice at night, falling asleep is no longer an issue, and I don't feel like death warmed over in the morning. Plus, since I'm getting some extra sleep on the bus, I'm finding that I can stay awake later at night, and get more stuff done at home.

Whee!

Sweet Lethe

OK, so I'm sleeping again. The new sleeping pills work: I go to sleep right away and only wake up once a night. The couple of nights I haven't taken a pill (actually half a pill, because the one time I took a whole one I slept for 11 hours, had breakfast, and then went back to sleep for two hours) I've been a bit longer going under (but not as long as before) and only woken up twice in the night, rather than the previous three or four times.

So we're getting there.

As of Nov. 1 I will be commuting by Greyhound. It means we're going to have even less expendable cash than we already do, but it's going to lighten my stress load, allow time for napping/knitting/reading and save me the immediate out-lay of winterizing my car. Plus my mother will worry less.

Work may get worse. It may also get better. I'm getting more event planning requests thrown my way, which is stuff that I really love to do. I've finally been heard on my request to get rid of my laptop and get a desktop computer. This will lessen the chances of me having to take work home. Now that we aren't doing the same job and soon will not be trapped in a car together any more, the relationship with the former best friend has lost all stressful overtones. We're actually laughing together again. And we hugged. It will never be what it was, because I will never fully trust her, but I'm pleased that we've gotten this far again.

That's the good.

The colleague that went to Rome whose job I did and the website blew up and I got stressed out and stopped sleeping, remember her? Yeah, well, she went and found another job. And they don't plan to replace her. Uh-huh. Oh, yeah. I've had a bit of a talk with my manager and will have a bit more of a talk tomorrow. At this point it could go either way.

Also, a different colleague has gone on stress leave, dumping all her work on ex-bfriend, which puts work fall-out on me as well. Three hours this morning were spent doing the work of the woman on leave. Oddly (or maybe not so oddly) this has been one source of the returning easiness between ebf and I.

So the bad may not turn out to be so bad after all. We'll see.

Less crying. Still not a lot of sleeping.

So the co-worker came back from Rome (best birthday gift ever!) which means that I am back to having a normal (well, for around here anyway) workload. Less stress = less crying.

Unfortunately, my body still hasn't figured out that in order to function as a normal (or what passes for normal in my life) human being I need to go to sleep. And then I need to stay asleep. The sleeping pills my doctor gave me a month ago help with either one or the other. I drift off with no problem, but then I wake up at midnight, 2:30 and 4:30 before having to get up at 5:15. Or, I'm still awake at 12:30 when Fred gets home from work.

So I went to see my lovely doctor today (her name's Angela, who wouldn't love her? *wink*) and she's given me something else to try.

Wish me sweet (and unbroken) dreams tonight.

October 4, 1973

Which makes me thirty-three today.

In my early twenties I had a much different vision of what my life would be like ten years down the road.

I certainly didn't expect to be living in Guelph and spending my free time knitting, cross-stitching, pickling with my girlfriends and doing yoga while swearing meditatively.

I'm glad I'm where I am. Overall, it's much better than what I had imagined.

I'm tired of crying

I went to my doctor yesterday. She's put me on a low-dose, non-addictive, take-as-you-need sleeping pill. The idea is that if my body can get used to sleeping again, instead of this lying around in bed for two hours then waking up once an hour crap (and I don't even have a baby to show for it!) under control, I'll be better able to handle the stress and anxiety I'm having during the day. Which would be really nice because this crying at work thing? Gotta stop.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty!

Today I am wearing a new outfit.

A couple of weeks ago Value Village had an everything for 50% off sale. I got a new outfit and a book for $16. The outfit is a black and red dress and long jacket, and the jacket has flowers embroidered across the bust line. I'm wearing my boots with it, since the weather is starting to turn autumnal.

I even managed to put my hair up in something other than a scrunchie, and put some make up on my face.

I feel all growed up!

My friend Jeff

Jeff is a soldier. He is a Master Corporal in the Royal Canadian Regiment out of Canadian Forces Base Petawawa. I don't know much about what he actually does. It's something to do with reconnaissance, but I only know this because of the jokes that are made about a 6' 5" tall man doing sneaky stuff. "It's a bush, it's a bush, it's Jeff, it's a bush."

When I first met Jeff I'd already heard stories about him. He's a crazy guy, who has a bajillion stories of his own, and when he tells them he always starts with "So there I was...". The first time I spent time with Jeff was at a May 2-4 weekend bash. He took his clothes off and did cartwheels in the rain. He told his famous Edmonton Strangler story and used me as a prop. I am afraid at the time I didn't see what was so great about this guy. I didn't understand why three of my friends were sleeping with him (we're a pretty liberal bunch, if you have a judgement, kindly keep it to yourself.) Sure he was funny, but he was also crass, and didn't understand personal boundaries.

Over the few years since then I've gotten to know Jeff much better. He is the crazy, crass guy with the stories, sure. But he's also a deeply intelligent and sensitive guy. When you get to talke to him alone, or in a small group, you learn things that you didn't know; about him, about yourself, about the world at large.

On August 8, 2006 his company was deployed to Afghanistan. As anyone following Canadian news will know (I'm not sure what kind of news US/UKers get) the NATO forces in Afghanistan haven't been having the greatest time. Yesterday, while knitting a sock for Jeff (we've been working on a care package to send to him) I saw the news about the friendly fire attack. Half an hour later I had one friend on the phone and two at the door.

Jeff is going to be ok. He's in a Dutch Front field hospital and will be moved to Germany soon. He'll be back in Canada in about two weeks (as soon as he's cleared to fly) and then he'll have a couple of weeks of reintegration training (code for talking to a bunch of headshrinkers). With any luck he'll be back in our area around mid-October. We don't know exactly how injured he is, but they offered him the option to go back to active duty after he's healed up. He took the option to come home, which makes his friends and family very happy.

I can't wait to hear him say "So there I was..."

My chin hurts.

Sometimes kittens are fun.

Other times they think your skirt is a toy, and that biting your feet is a good thing. Then when you bend over in the dark bedroom to extricate the kitten from your skirt, you bash your chin on the metal frame of your laundry hamper. Then you cry because it hurts and you've only had about four hours of sleep because the kitten kept bringing you her toy with the bells on it while you were trying to fall asleep, and when you shut her in another room all you could hear was the kitten crying like someone was killing her.

*sigh*

Companies should let people take leave when they get kittens. They could call it 'cat leave'.

Crazy? Very likely.

It's been an interesting few weeks. I warn you now that this is going to be a long post...

My step-dad's mother died on the Saturday before I started my vacation, so there was no trip to the farm that day and no field-trip to the guild meeting. Also, no alpaca. Instead I drove out to the farm on the Monday after my job interview to take care of all the animals so that they could take care of the visitation/funeral business and not have to drive the two hours each way from their home to the town Frank's mom lived in.

My mom and Frank have about 17 head of Texas long-horn cattle, plus a couple of calves, two grass cattle, five horses, three big dogs and somewhere in the neighbourhood of 17 cats. They bought this farm after I was grown and gone, so I am not a farm girl born and bred. As I said to my mother, I'm a good pinch-hitter, but I'm no professional.

Some of the cats are barn cats, some are indoor-outdoor cats, and some are indoor cats. With so many of them (and many of them being out of the same parents), I have a hard time telling some of them apart, never mind remembering who can go out and who can't. Since I would be arriving after the humans left, Mom said that she would make sure that all of the cats that are allowed outside would already be out there. Around dinner time I was letting a cat in when one of the ones inside escaped! I sat outside on the porch for over an hour with a can of Pounce hollering "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!", since I didn't know the cat's name. I thought it might have been Carmelita, but wasn't sure. I just knew it was one of the white/tabby patched cats. Finally a cat fitting the description wandered up to me. I gave it treats and scooped it up, and inside we went.

Two hours later I'm outside with one of the dogs when a white and tabby patched cat comes bounding through the clover... Inside we all went. Around midnight I spoke to Mom on the phone. I told her about the escapee, and my later confusion. Mom's response? "Oh, there are four kitties who look like that. I told Snuggles that if he didn't go out before we left, he might not get out."

I come by my crazy naturally.

After attending the funeral on Tuesday I headed home with a headache. Lack of sleep (it was very, very hot and one of the cats gives you love by bodychecking you while you sleep. Seriously.), stoopid heat and crying combined will do that to me. I took a nap for a couple of hours, but when I woke up my head still felt like it had been steamrolled, so the two hour drive to Aurora to see the Yarn Harlot was nixed. I was very sad, but she lives in Toronto. Technically, I could just show up on her doorstep all stalker like...but I won't. *grin* Instead I took some painkillers and worked on my sock. I have one and three quarters of another sock done. I'm looking forward to being able to wear them.

I did not get the awesome job that I really wanted. When the HR lady called me back she told me that I was by far the best candidate they had interviewed and would have had the job, except that they decided to change the job description. Argh. They're unlikely to find (in my opinion) what they're looking for in the salary band they are offering, or at least unlikely to find someone who will stay very long. I will be working on certifications so that when the job is posted again in about a year, I'll have more of what they are looking for. And in the mean time, I'm back to the resume-tweaking drawing board.

We took Zoe in to the vet to be spayed on the Wednesday of my vacation. They told us to call around 2:00 that afternoon to find out how the surgery went, and when to come pick her up. When I called the nurse said "Um, well...it went well, and Zoe's fine except...Zoe's a boy." What? Yeah. Zoe's a boy. A neutered boy, but a boy nonetheless. Fred has decided to be in denial. Her name is still Zoe, and we still use the feminine pronouns to refer to her. Fred wanted a girl kitty, and as far as he's concerned, that's what Zoe is.

I'm not just descended from crazy, I live with it too!

On the holiday Monday, the day before we were to return to work, Fred noticed that Sabre wasn't using her right rear leg. She was dragging it behind her or knuckling over on the foot. It was colder than the other paws. She wasn't withdrawing it when tickled or grabbed. No movement. No feeling. Very scary. The emergency vet we called said that it didn't sound like a "true emergency", as in, the cat wasn't dying. So we waited and took her to the vet on Tuesday. By this time we'd noticed that her tail, which is usually straight up in the air, was hanging to the right and that she wasn't moving it either. After a 3-day stay at the vet and a bill large enough to negate our vacation plans for October, she came home somewhat improved. The was able to tell us what it wasn't: fracture, major neurological issue, blood clot/stroke. It's probably not cancer, although there's still a remote chance of that. So we still don't know what it is, but she is improving daily. The tail is almost back to normal. The leg is still stiff so she limps a bit, and although she still doesn't seem to have feeling in her paw the circulation is good. Which is good, because in a household that already has a trans-sexual cat, do we also need a 3-legged one?


See? Crazy.