I feel petty. Ridiculous.
I have given myself all sorts of speeches. "Oh, come on, now, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? Just GO BACK TO SLEEP!"
Spike has produced loudly annoyed sighs in the dark, until I dramatically fling back the blankets, and hurl myself out of bed to commence leg stretches, hopefully without fully awaking either him or me. I get back in bed. We go back to sleep. I wake up. Twitch and stretch. Spike sighs. More blanket flinging, this time to go find the bottle of Advil.
It's the jimmy legs.
Now, to be clear, I do not have limbs flinging involuntarily in all directions. No one has been injured. (One person told me their jimmy legs threw their own body right out of bed one night. I don't have that.)
Here is what I have. That restless, itchy, tickly feeling that just won't go away. If I was actually running these days, I would tell you it's from a lack of stretching. And so I stretch. Over and over again. I walk. I sit. I stand. I wear different shoes. I go to bed. The above drama ensues, until I take an Advil.
And I get very crusty, my friends, very crusty indeed when my sleep is interrupted.
A few weeks ago, it seemed to back off. I slept blissfully, deeply. Aaahhhh. And then it came back.
And I realized - I took a Claritin that day. Hmmmm.
At the most intense of allergy seasons, I only take a Claritin every other day, at the most. My tolerance for any drugs is fairly low. Taking Claritin every day gives my contact lenses the texture of autumn leaves, and my voice the scratchy sound of raking them up. (I don't know. It's a metaphor, and a poor one at that.)
So I've stopped taking Claritin. And I've backed off the coffee. I'm not sure if it's solving anything. Except now I'm all headachey and snotty and doggone dragged out.
yay.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
raindrops on my head
sometimes i walk in the rain. do you?
this has been an intense week.
not a bad week. a good week, actually.
but intense. one of those put-your-head-down-and-work-until-it's-done weeks.
my brain is simultaneously full, exhilarated and a teeny bit fried. my hand and shoulder ache from too much writing, and typing, and moving a mouse around. my soul is thankful and content, while anticipating the "more" that tomorrows might bring.
plus, national punctuation day occurred this week. very satisfying.
yes, i KNOW that this particular post is atrocious in its refusal to use capital letters, and its insistence on phrases that are not full sentences. i'm using poetic licence, thank you very much. "uh ... please don't correct me. it sickens me." (random Mr. Furious quote)
so today, in the quest for continued sanity, i went for a walk between items on my To Do List.
a walk in the rain.
by the bay.
just because.
do you ever? walk in the rain?
this has been an intense week.
not a bad week. a good week, actually.
but intense. one of those put-your-head-down-and-work-until-it's-done weeks.
my brain is simultaneously full, exhilarated and a teeny bit fried. my hand and shoulder ache from too much writing, and typing, and moving a mouse around. my soul is thankful and content, while anticipating the "more" that tomorrows might bring.
plus, national punctuation day occurred this week. very satisfying.
yes, i KNOW that this particular post is atrocious in its refusal to use capital letters, and its insistence on phrases that are not full sentences. i'm using poetic licence, thank you very much. "uh ... please don't correct me. it sickens me." (random Mr. Furious quote)
so today, in the quest for continued sanity, i went for a walk between items on my To Do List.
a walk in the rain.
by the bay.
just because.
do you ever? walk in the rain?
Friday, September 25, 2009
first friends
I made a friend last night!
First tutorial, and it's a much smaller group - 40 or 50 people. The poor TA seems like a lovely person, but everything in me wants to quietly approach her and give her some tips on how to be in charge and own the room we're all in. Mild to medium chaos reigned throughout the hour.
It'll probably be better next week though. She expressed genuine surprise that people showed up at all, since we don't get marks for it - that oughta reduce the number in next week's group!
But yes, I made a friend. We exchanged names and bits of trivia about ourselves, and even moved on to the lecture hall together. Her face lit up when I mentioned my musician-ly husband ... thank goodness for Spike ... once again, he makes me cool!
Hey - do you remember the names of some of your first friends in elementary school?
I remember Corey who skipped a grade with me, and was Joseph to my Mary in the Christmas play ... Patti Jo who only shared her chips after licking the salt off them (Yes, I now know that's wrong. At the time, I thought friendship was required since we shared the same first name. And we didn't get to eat chips much at my house... Don't look at me like that! I was in kindergarten! Stop judging me!) ... and Barbie, the beautiful and self-assured girl who moved to my town in Grade 3. (We were BFFE's until I moved away the next year.)
Your turn - who were your first friends?
First tutorial, and it's a much smaller group - 40 or 50 people. The poor TA seems like a lovely person, but everything in me wants to quietly approach her and give her some tips on how to be in charge and own the room we're all in. Mild to medium chaos reigned throughout the hour.
It'll probably be better next week though. She expressed genuine surprise that people showed up at all, since we don't get marks for it - that oughta reduce the number in next week's group!
But yes, I made a friend. We exchanged names and bits of trivia about ourselves, and even moved on to the lecture hall together. Her face lit up when I mentioned my musician-ly husband ... thank goodness for Spike ... once again, he makes me cool!
Hey - do you remember the names of some of your first friends in elementary school?
I remember Corey who skipped a grade with me, and was Joseph to my Mary in the Christmas play ... Patti Jo who only shared her chips after licking the salt off them (Yes, I now know that's wrong. At the time, I thought friendship was required since we shared the same first name. And we didn't get to eat chips much at my house... Don't look at me like that! I was in kindergarten! Stop judging me!) ... and Barbie, the beautiful and self-assured girl who moved to my town in Grade 3. (We were BFFE's until I moved away the next year.)
Your turn - who were your first friends?
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
lost in Ikea
Spike had a day off yesterday.
This is a momentous thing. Rockers/roofers do not get days off between Easter and Thanksgiving. They tour and roof and tour and roof and practice and tour and roof, and then roof some more. Case in point - today another tour begins.
But yesterday - YESTERDAY - Spike had a day off.
So I left work early so that we could have a romantic few hours together.
(pause to snort cynically)
We went to Ikea.
You may recall our flooded basement. The stuff piled in the dining area all summer long. The porch replacement. The plumbing. The roofing. The loss of table and chairs.
The Domino Effect Theory states that in order to find a new table and chairs, we must finish cleaning out the dining room, but in order to do that, we must sort through the piles of crud that are there and consider what our reason is for keeping said piles. Then we must have a plan for making those piles look less like piles of crud in the basement, and more like productive and/or decorative and/or meaningful parts of our lives, and in order for THAT to happen - we need a storage solution.
Thus ... Ikea.
We went in with fair-to-middlin' hopes. Having been married as long as we have, we were under no illusions about instantly discovering and agreeing upon "the perfect thing" when it comes to furnishing our home. I, for instance, was thinking of dollar-store baskets for organizing our stuff. Spike, on the other hand, was picturing custom-built wall units.
We walked for miles. Took notes. Opened, closed, raised, lowered, and slid to the side various cabinet doors. Converted metric to imperial, over and over again.
We negotiated shiny white vs. beech laminate. Considered separate vacations. Walked away from one another. Sighed. Came back. Solved world hunger. Got distracted by duvet covers, tables and chairs, sofabeds, big-screen TV's, wall hooks, shoe shelves, pots and light fixtures. Had a coffee.
Examined the cinnamon buns - twice - and decided that there was no way they were going to taste good, no matter how much we wanted them to.
We laughed at first over furniture systems with names like Tjusig and Slatthult, and then it wasn't funny anymore, and we didn't want to see one more Malm, or Melltorp, or Skydda, and I began to rage over the entire concept of "furniture systems".
Peed twice. Almost gave up entirely. And then we made a decision. (yay!)
Circled the store twice more, missing the tiny little shortcuts out. More distractions. Got to the warehouse, where Spike rode a cart wildly up and down the rows, while we searched for Bins 12, 16 and 32 in Aisles 12 and 14.
Realized that during one of the distractions, we had set down the Grip door handles somewhere unknown. Spike went back to find them, while I waited in the middle of the warehouse, mildly catatonic. (A complete stranger checked to see if I was OK!)
Went to the checkout line. Noted that one of the boxes had been previously opened - unacceptable. Back to the warehouse.
Back to the checkout line. Total cost seemed low. Let's see.... we need 2 units, 2 handle packs, and 2 doors - nope - 4 doors! %$ nyttja *#
Back to the warehouse.
Back to the checkout line.
Out the door. Loaded up the car. Went home. Began assembly. And discovered that the box which replaced the already-opened box ironicly had a damaged piece in it, and must be returned.
@#*& barnslig *%(* grundtal #*$* !!!!!!!!!!
This is a momentous thing. Rockers/roofers do not get days off between Easter and Thanksgiving. They tour and roof and tour and roof and practice and tour and roof, and then roof some more. Case in point - today another tour begins.
But yesterday - YESTERDAY - Spike had a day off.
So I left work early so that we could have a romantic few hours together.
(pause to snort cynically)
We went to Ikea.
You may recall our flooded basement. The stuff piled in the dining area all summer long. The porch replacement. The plumbing. The roofing. The loss of table and chairs.
The Domino Effect Theory states that in order to find a new table and chairs, we must finish cleaning out the dining room, but in order to do that, we must sort through the piles of crud that are there and consider what our reason is for keeping said piles. Then we must have a plan for making those piles look less like piles of crud in the basement, and more like productive and/or decorative and/or meaningful parts of our lives, and in order for THAT to happen - we need a storage solution.
Thus ... Ikea.
We went in with fair-to-middlin' hopes. Having been married as long as we have, we were under no illusions about instantly discovering and agreeing upon "the perfect thing" when it comes to furnishing our home. I, for instance, was thinking of dollar-store baskets for organizing our stuff. Spike, on the other hand, was picturing custom-built wall units.
We walked for miles. Took notes. Opened, closed, raised, lowered, and slid to the side various cabinet doors. Converted metric to imperial, over and over again.
We negotiated shiny white vs. beech laminate. Considered separate vacations. Walked away from one another. Sighed. Came back. Solved world hunger. Got distracted by duvet covers, tables and chairs, sofabeds, big-screen TV's, wall hooks, shoe shelves, pots and light fixtures. Had a coffee.
Examined the cinnamon buns - twice - and decided that there was no way they were going to taste good, no matter how much we wanted them to.
We laughed at first over furniture systems with names like Tjusig and Slatthult, and then it wasn't funny anymore, and we didn't want to see one more Malm, or Melltorp, or Skydda, and I began to rage over the entire concept of "furniture systems".
Peed twice. Almost gave up entirely. And then we made a decision. (yay!)
Circled the store twice more, missing the tiny little shortcuts out. More distractions. Got to the warehouse, where Spike rode a cart wildly up and down the rows, while we searched for Bins 12, 16 and 32 in Aisles 12 and 14.
Realized that during one of the distractions, we had set down the Grip door handles somewhere unknown. Spike went back to find them, while I waited in the middle of the warehouse, mildly catatonic. (A complete stranger checked to see if I was OK!)
Went to the checkout line. Noted that one of the boxes had been previously opened - unacceptable. Back to the warehouse.
Back to the checkout line. Total cost seemed low. Let's see.... we need 2 units, 2 handle packs, and 2 doors - nope - 4 doors! %$ nyttja *#
Back to the warehouse.
Back to the checkout line.
Out the door. Loaded up the car. Went home. Began assembly. And discovered that the box which replaced the already-opened box ironicly had a damaged piece in it, and must be returned.
@#*& barnslig *%(* grundtal #*$* !!!!!!!!!!
Monday, September 14, 2009
dining vs dancing
Recently, Spike and I found ourselves without table and chairs. It's a long story of a treasured inheritance having its turn at Spike's sister's house, and it's all good, because we had that inheritance for probably 12 years or so.
We've been planning to get a new table and chairs. But our table-and-chairs space was being used by Things Hauled Out of the Basement after the flood. And we only recently got that cleaned up (mostly).
So now it's just a big open space.
Which is a problem.
Because this morning, I landed on this.
And it turns out I need the big open space to dance in my pajamas while eating peanut butter toast.
We've been planning to get a new table and chairs. But our table-and-chairs space was being used by Things Hauled Out of the Basement after the flood. And we only recently got that cleaned up (mostly).
So now it's just a big open space.
Which is a problem.
Because this morning, I landed on this.
And it turns out I need the big open space to dance in my pajamas while eating peanut butter toast.
Maybe we don't need a table and chairs after all.
his eye is on the sparrow
You're going to need to turn up the volume, and pull out a hankie for waving purposes while you watch this one.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
first day - the report
The first session didn't happen - apparently there are no tutorials the first week, but they prefer to let you have the joy of discovering that on your own.
And I had already come extra early, to allow time for parking on the other side of the city (which, turns out, I didn't have to do) and to find where I was to be (which took all of 5 minutes). So I had a good hour and a half to walk around the campus and people-watch.
Finally, we filed into the lecture hall - all 300 of us. I aimed for a "leftie" desk. (I may not have been in school for a long time, but I remember trying to write left on a desk for "righties". There's just not enough chiropractic coverage for those contortions. That's right. I'm a mature student now. My back goes out sometimes, and I'm not ashamed to say it.)
Chatted briefly to a few people. Silently noted that I was not the only oldie in the class. Realized it didn't matter to me anyway.
And over the next two hours, as course outlines were reviewed, papers were discussed and a few introductory thoughts were presented, I smiled with contentment. I get to learn again! It's been a long time coming, this particular dream of mine. But now that I'm here, it feels exactly right.
All I can tell you is what I texted to Spike on my way back to the car....
"i m so happy!!"
And I had already come extra early, to allow time for parking on the other side of the city (which, turns out, I didn't have to do) and to find where I was to be (which took all of 5 minutes). So I had a good hour and a half to walk around the campus and people-watch.
Finally, we filed into the lecture hall - all 300 of us. I aimed for a "leftie" desk. (I may not have been in school for a long time, but I remember trying to write left on a desk for "righties". There's just not enough chiropractic coverage for those contortions. That's right. I'm a mature student now. My back goes out sometimes, and I'm not ashamed to say it.)
Chatted briefly to a few people. Silently noted that I was not the only oldie in the class. Realized it didn't matter to me anyway.
And over the next two hours, as course outlines were reviewed, papers were discussed and a few introductory thoughts were presented, I smiled with contentment. I get to learn again! It's been a long time coming, this particular dream of mine. But now that I'm here, it feels exactly right.
All I can tell you is what I texted to Spike on my way back to the car....
"i m so happy!!"
Friday, September 11, 2009
Spike doing what he does - locally!
Details about my first day of school to come, right after this word from our sponsor.
***
Guess what?
Spike's band is playing LOCALLY!! That's right, my friends. They just got back from Texas ... heading off to Wyoming soon ... and they rarely play in this neck of the woods, this arm of the country, this little toe of the universe.
***
We now return to our regular programming.
***
Guess what?
Spike's band is playing LOCALLY!! That's right, my friends. They just got back from Texas ... heading off to Wyoming soon ... and they rarely play in this neck of the woods, this arm of the country, this little toe of the universe.
So DON'T MISS THIS opportunity!
Next Friday night, September 18!
All-ages show with Under Articifial Skies, Headshot and more!
Doors open at 6:30 - show's over by 10!
I have advance tickets for $8 - lemme know how many you want!
***
We now return to our regular programming.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
first day
"It was early in the morningand Splat was wide awake.
Today was his first day of Cat School
and his tail wiggled wildly with worry."
Today is my first day of school in ... um ... a long time.
Unless you count the course I audited a while ago.
Still. It's not like I'm just coming back from summer break.
I have my books.
I have my clicker.
I have looked on the map to see where I go.
And I have my brand new High School Musical lunchbox and purse.
So I think I'm good to go.
Wish me luck!
Monday, September 07, 2009
favourites
J-Blu is definitely my favourite. When i arrived to begin the canning on Friday morning, she was waiting at the door, wearing the apron Nana must have made her. (i know this, because the fabric was suspiciously identical to the fabric in my bridesmaids' dresses many moons ago.) She preserved peaches and brined beets for several hours with us, taking breaks from time to time to pound out a song on the piano, or make us all a cup of tea. Together, she and i stood our ground against the determined Italian grandmas in the grocery store who called dibs on every bushel of tomatoes in stock. We loaded up our three bushels, and got the heck out of there. Every now and then, she leans up against me, just to make sure i don't forget she's there. she's definitely my favourite.
of course, the Punk is right up there too. He's certainly my favourite, in fact. Halfway through Canning Day 2, i realized i was reaching new levels of dehydration, and spontaneously announced that whoever got me a cold drink right now would be my new favourite. He won. Probably more for the momentary challenge in an uninteresting day, than for compassion for his aunt, but at that moment motives were irrelevant. Much of the time, he observes life with a cool, dry wit, but when he bursts out laughing at his own funny story, nothing is held back. A belly laugh that rolls up and takes over, until i can't help but laugh with him, even though i haven't even heard the punch line. He assures me that i am still cool, and he's old enough to know differently. he's certainly my favourite.
and then there's the Bean. Without a doubt, he is my favourite. He spent hours on Saturday standing on his stool in front of a hot stove, carefully ladling tomatoes into and out of boiling water, clad only in pajama bottoms. Calmly ignoring my worried admonitions about being careful not to burn himself, he graciously said nothing when i plunged my own hand into icy water and hollered for aloe vera. When the others left to get lunch and more jars, he and i split and peeled a third of a bushel of tomatoes all on our own. We also shared a cinnamon bun. At unexpected moments I discover his arms wrapped around me, or his little body snuggled in beside me on the couch. Without a doubt, he is my favourite.
and i can't forget slash, the black lab who seems to have gone straight from a puppy who ran in circles underneath your petting hand, to an old dog who positions himself in such a way that he can see everything at once with minimal movement. food still excites him, but as i sat on the couch refusing to share my half of the cinnamon bun with him, his head slowly dropped onto my knee and he fell asleep there. it's possible that he is my favourite, after all.
of course, the Punk is right up there too. He's certainly my favourite, in fact. Halfway through Canning Day 2, i realized i was reaching new levels of dehydration, and spontaneously announced that whoever got me a cold drink right now would be my new favourite. He won. Probably more for the momentary challenge in an uninteresting day, than for compassion for his aunt, but at that moment motives were irrelevant. Much of the time, he observes life with a cool, dry wit, but when he bursts out laughing at his own funny story, nothing is held back. A belly laugh that rolls up and takes over, until i can't help but laugh with him, even though i haven't even heard the punch line. He assures me that i am still cool, and he's old enough to know differently. he's certainly my favourite.
and then there's the Bean. Without a doubt, he is my favourite. He spent hours on Saturday standing on his stool in front of a hot stove, carefully ladling tomatoes into and out of boiling water, clad only in pajama bottoms. Calmly ignoring my worried admonitions about being careful not to burn himself, he graciously said nothing when i plunged my own hand into icy water and hollered for aloe vera. When the others left to get lunch and more jars, he and i split and peeled a third of a bushel of tomatoes all on our own. We also shared a cinnamon bun. At unexpected moments I discover his arms wrapped around me, or his little body snuggled in beside me on the couch. Without a doubt, he is my favourite.
and i can't forget slash, the black lab who seems to have gone straight from a puppy who ran in circles underneath your petting hand, to an old dog who positions himself in such a way that he can see everything at once with minimal movement. food still excites him, but as i sat on the couch refusing to share my half of the cinnamon bun with him, his head slowly dropped onto my knee and he fell asleep there. it's possible that he is my favourite, after all.
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