nurses are rock stars

at least, that's what i'm told i said. this scope was so much better! i don't remember a thing. my roommate chris was with me, and he said i was very grateful, very insistent on thanking everyone. i guess one of the nurses was joking with me about leaving my iv in if i had a habit at home, and i said "yeah, i love heroin." darcy took advantage of my weakened state when we got home and pulled my cereal bowl down so he could drink the milk out of it. good times. at the end of the day, i crashed out and had the craziest dreams. i wish i could remember all of it, but i know that my nipples were pierced with big green studs, i was dating a 19 year old, and i had 8 bathrooms. that sums it up i guess.

negatory good buddy

something that i noticed in the pre-blog days of the "dear diary": i only write negative things. the times i write the most are the times when things just suck. this is a habit i've been trying to kick for probably the last 15 years. and maybe when i get my own computer up and running i can make a decent attempt. but for now...

i have to go for another scope. this time from the top down. i don't know why they don't just stick a pipe cleaner straight through me. get it over with. i'm not looking forward to this one, because i've heard it's even worse. and given the recent strength of my gag reflex, it promises to be a real wingding.

also, i broke up with the guy i was dating for 3 months. he's a great guy, but things weren't clicking. i don't know why. i've never chosen to be single, and this is a monumental first: me. breaking up. with a guy. i'm never the breaker upper. i'm the broken up. i excel at being broken up -- i have it down to a fine science. and i stand corrected; neil sedaka was right -- breaking up IS hard to do. being the breaker upper is hard.

have i mentioned that i love the song "calendar girl"? it's one of my karaoke standards. doesn't neil look like a hepcat here?

music to avoid: i know i usually talk about the music i love, but i have to put out a warning just this once. i recently bought an album based on a 30 second radio ad. yes, i'm an impulse buyer on occasion, and i got sucked in by the sexy sounding ads, but don't do it. don't buy she wants revenge. the album cover is sexy, the name is sexy and the music is so trite and self indulgent it's embarassing. they're trying to do an early depeche mode (think music for the masses), moody, synth, aren't i just so tragically cool, i need groupies to suck me off sound. the music for this album is catchy and dancy and kinda fun, but then...then there are the lyrics.

And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance
Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there
Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare

They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do
Cause there's always repercussions when you're dating in school
But their lips met, and reservations started to pass
Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last...

at least we know that they know how to rhyme. and what a relief, huh? sometimes, i can get past the lyrics, and sometimes i can't. this is a glowing example of lyrics that stop you dead and remind you of all the bad poetry you wrote in high school.

current music: on the other hand, we have the third album from the strokes, first impressions of earth. this is a great album, with superhero basslines, awesome guitars and some cool lyrics. the first two singles have been great, and the rest of the album doesn't disappoint. one song, "razor blade," sounds like a couple fighting with the taunting lyrics "oh no, my feelings are more important than yours" followed by "sweetheart, your feelings are more important of course". it's sung kind of like a "na na na na na". good stuff. pick it up.

torture for your own good

well, at least it's over. kristen pointed out how a propos my tag line is currently: "you know it's time that we grow old and do some shit." or, as my friend doc loc would say "a poo poo". which is also a propos come to think of it.

when kristen and i arrived at patient registration, they asked if i had my "medical wishes written down", and i just sort of gawped at her. "umm, no?" i guess it's a standard question, but it wasn't the first thing i wanted to be asked. and i don't know if "gawped" is a real word, but it's the right word.

the time in the waiting room wasn't too long before they called my name. they got me all prepped with the intravenous in my hand which stung like a bitch, and i thought i was going to be sick. the guy ahead of me i guess took some time, so i had to wait longer than usual. when i got in there, the doctor was of course, drop dead gorgeous. i thought, "i'm about to expose my ass and my intestines to an attractive doctor. well, of course. why wouldn't i?" i wasn't really all that nervous to begin with. i cracked a couple of jokes and they laughed, and then they loaded me up with the drugs. the doctor actually said "give her the works."

and then 45 minutes of the worst pain ever started. it was the weakest sedation i've ever experienced. i don't really remember anything other than crying and saying ow repeatedly and then getting more drugs and then the nurse pushing on my stomach. i eventually apologised to the nurse and told her to apologise to the doctors for me. i can't have been conscious for the entire time, but i really don't know. i guess it doesn't usually take so long (the guy who went in after me was only gone for about 15 minutes), so i don't know what the problem was. but don't ever let anyone tell you it doesn't hurt.

on the bright side, they didn't find anything unusual, but they took 7 or 8 biopsies, and i have a follow-up appointment in february. the nurse told me that the most difficult part was getting way up into my upper intestinal tract. i swear i could feel it right up under my sternum almost. i hope i never have to do that again.

the rest of the weekend was much better. me and my beau had our pre-christmas celebration, called "hannukis" and exchanged presents. he buys good presents! it's a whole new tradition involving g.i. joe, christmas crackers, chocolate, presents and hannukissing.

current music: the stars, set yourself on fire. very cool album from another great canadian band. searching for them also led me to arts and crafts which is the stars label, but also the label for broken social scene and feist. bss doesn't seem to have a decent website unfortunately. but the album i'm most addicted to right now is ANOTHER canadian band: wolf parade, apologies to the queen mary. if you go to their website, you can listen to two of their songs right there. it's not a great website either, but you can't argue with free music. and i think i can say right now that this will be my favourite album of the year. i'll have to work on a top 10 list or something for the new year...

phew, that was a long one...

just kill me now

the taste of this stuff is making me insane. and i'm starting to get very hungry. in the beginning i was downing a drink every 10 minutes, but now i'm lucky if i get one down every 20 minutes. it's taking longer and longer to drink a glass. half the time i can just barely get it down. i've been drinking it since 1:30, and i'm still not done! oh why!!!!!!!!! it's so gross. even the smell is making me gag now.

the first drink

yeah, so it smells really good. like kool-aid. but it tastes like salt water. it's a very briny, tinny, disgusting taste. and i have to drink it now every ten minutes until the 4 litres are gone. wooooo...

they say i get to look forward to nausea and cramping. also exciting.

the colonoscopy monologues

so, i thought that rather than worry and freak out, i would record. tomorrow is the "procedure" as i've taken to calling it. in 1 hour, i have to start drinking the peglyte that will clean me out from stem to stern for tomorrow. right now i'm just worked up about drinking the stuff. it seems ridiculous, but people keep telling me how awful it is. people are so kind sometimes...

i think it's working...

so, yeah, i'm not going to say anything more than...

i've been seeing the same guy that i was talking about on 11/14 for a month. our first date was on 11/17, and we're still dating. i'm not going to jinx it by going any further...

the search continues...

so, i bit the bullet and signed up for lavalife. part of me is absolutely humiliated and ashamed, but another part of me is very curious to see what happens. so far, most of the people i've browsed through seem to feel the same way. you see a lot of profiles that start "like you, i really don't know what i'm doing here" or "just looking around". there have been a few "interesting" guys. i love the ones that list their demands: no games; if you don't like dogs don't bother wasting my time. or why you should choose them: they make a lot of money or this one guy who wears an electric blue shark skin suit in his profile photo and wrote a lyric poem about his "pecker".

but, i'm currently communicating with one guy who seems like he might be all right. i think we're going to meet up for a drink this week, but after the last blind date, i could go one of two ways: i could remain optimistic that this one will be the good kind of interesting, or i could get halfway to the bar and then turn tail and run home. so far, i know that he's a professor and he's half-italian. you know how i love my italian boys. it's a good start.

blind date, the blind date!

i met the guy this evening. we met at william's coffee pub around 5:30pm. he had told me on the phone the night before that he was nervous, that his "heart was just thumpin'". he also told me that he planned on getting there early, so i'd have to look for him. seeing as he's 6'6", i didn't take that as much of a challenge. anyway, he was there before me. he is tall, but not lanky. he's also not unattractive, but i immediately think he's too old for me. it's as though i suddenly forget that i'm 30, and he's only 36. but he may as well be 56.

he's a very nice guy. very open and friendly. but the rendez-vous lasted all of 90 minutes (i told him i had to be outta there by 7pm. can't miss my shows!), and i knew that we didn't make a love connection. chuck woolery would be heart-broken (remember chuck's great laugh? and that smile!) ah chuck, where are you when i need you?

i was proud of myself for at least being upfront with him at the end of the evening and telling him that i wasn't really up for dating right now. he said he'd call to hang out or whatever. and to be honest, i don't even know if i'm up for that. i'm such a hermit. a spinster. i shall adopt nine more cats and put garbage bags over my windows.

blind date, the phone calls!

he called friday night. i saw his name on the phone, and i didn't pick up, but he left a message.

he called 2x on saturday, left one message.

i called him sunday. he's very chatty. he says he likes def leppard, and when i tell him i'm a music snob, he says "oh, you like ac/dc then?" i say no and decide not to pursue that avenue of interest. he tells me he's "average looking" and i take that as my cue to rate myself, so i say "i'm not good at rating myself". he says, "well, i mean, looks aren't everything."

he calls again sunday night. i don't pick up, but he leaves a message. he calls me again monday night. i don't pick up. then, later i decide i'm being silly so i return his call, but the line is busy - he doesn't have voice mail or call waiting. later, i discover that he doesn't own a computer. this does not bode well.

tuesday night, i call him. we set up the coffee date. i get him off the phone by claiming "my roommate just pulled dinner out of the oven". so far, the strikes: doesn't let me get a word in edgewise, and then the little i do say, he forgets. he said happy birthday to me two times in one conversation. the music is a big stumbling block. and he's low tech. i know that should be honourable, but i find it annoying. on the plus side, he seems down-to-earth and relaxed. open with the communication.

i'm dreading this "date," but it would be rude to cancel. ...right?

blind date, the horror!

i may have a blind date this week. and i'm really undecided about it. you could even say i'm conflicted. there's a part of me that is insisting that this is all a bad idea. and then there's another part of me that is trying to make me believe that i have nothing to lose. the big 3-0 has finally come to pass, and it seems to have been the cue for a lot of my friends to say "maybe you should consider lavalife".

it feels like forever since i've had a date, and i find myself thinking that relationships just complicate things. i do want to be in a successful relationship and find that person who i'll live happily ever after with. i don't want to be single, but i also don't want to find myself settling with someone who isn't quite right. but i think i'm terrified to try. and i mean, like, therapy terrified.

a woman i work with is setting me up on a date with her neighbour. i just got off the phone with him, and i'm being such a snob. he likes def leppard and motorbikes. when i told him i was a music snob, he said, "oh, do you like ac/dc?" also, he has a truck that he talks about as though it's a child, and he doesn't like to read. can i date that guy? am i being too snobby? we're going for coffee this week, so we'll see how it goes. but i'm dreading it.

sweet daddy siki

anyone who knows me very well, (i.e. has had to endure a road trip with me) will know how i love signs. if something looks like it would be fun to say, i have to say it out loud. it can be something as simple as a restaurant announcing a "stack o' pancakes" breakfast special or a repair shop offering a "tire sale". i especially love some of the signs i've seen on churches. two great examples both seen in london:

1) god loves everyone, but he loves the toronto maple leafs more. go leafs go!
2) yeah, that love thy neighbour thing...i meant that. -- god.

i don't know if this goes back to the long road trips i had to endure with my family (and which i wouldn't trade for the world), bored and car sick and trying to focus on anything to keep my mind off the fact that i just barfed in the bag that held all my archie comics.

this love of signery (signification? roadside poetry?) continued it's hold with each drive into charlottetown when we passed the north river fire department that announced local birthdays ("lordy lordy look who's forty") and bits of cliched wisdom ("today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday").

one of my favourite sign stories happened in toronto when i was driving around with my friends andrew and meadow and reading out almost everything that passed in front of my eyes. eventually, they picked up the habit as well and as we were driving along queen street east, meadow read out "karaoke saturday nights hosted by sweet daddy siki". i freaked out. sweet daddy siki was a strangely prevalent part of my childhood. when my dad was a musician in toronto in the 1970s, one of the guys he used to play with was a wrestler named sweet daddy siki. i remember sitting in the basement fiddling around with my dad's drum kit or steel guitar and staring at the picture of the big black wrestler with his white hair and white trunks, standing in the middle of a ring with his arms raised in the air.

new cool word: enigmatology, (n.) the art of making or of solving enigmas.

current music: art brut, bang bang rock n roll. you have to find this album and listen to it. it's cool, post punk, brit pop with a great sense of humour. my favourite song may be "my little brother", though "moving to l.a." is also very funny/cool. but then, the song "modern art" starts off with this great line: "modern art makes me want to rock out (wooh!)." oh forget it, the whole album rocks!

that 70s picture

i like this one, because it looks like something i would come across in one of my grandmother's photo albums. all off kilter like it's the family's first camera, and the colour is a little washed out. (i'll admit, i messed with the light filtre a bit. it's a fun toy...)

me and my babies

well, here are my boys, together in a photo. it isn't the most "together" photo. more of a snap and dash. darcy looks like if he has one more picture taken he's going to smash the camera, and bingley looks like he hasn't quite figured out where he is yet. they're pretty cute. i feel sad for my friend chris missing his cat, and i know i'd be sad without mine, even when they wretch up hairballs like tumbleweed and lick their arses all day long and cry in the middle of the night because it's time to play and bite me when i don't wake up fast enough. what would i ever do without them?

perfectly adjusted organisms

i have got to get a digital camera. there are so many funny things that i see in the run of a day, that it physically hurts that i can't post them all on here. one example, a toothless wonder on dundas street wearing a dirty white t-shirt that says "i love (heart) party girls". sigh, well, until i can afford one, i'll just have to become a better writer. and maybe that will be good for me.

the past two nights, i've watched friday the 13th parts 1 and 2 (it's the 25th anniversary). all these years as a horror fan, and i thought i had seen them. i've definitely not seen them before. and i have to say, i was pleasantly surprised. why they went on to produce so many parts (are they at 11 now?), i don't know. i have to see the third installment, but they probably could have ended after the second one. if you want to see the first one stop reading right now. i mean right now as of that period you just passed. all this time, i thought jason was the killer in each of the movies, so i was really surprised to find out that his mother is the killer in the first one. which has got me wondering now who was the first female serial killer in the slasher genre. i may have a project on my hands here.

in any case, i think it's time for coffee and reading. i just finished e.m. forster's a passage to india. i'm a big forster fan, but i've been putting of reading this book for a long time. it's such a beautifully written book, but even forster himself said after 30 years that the book was dated. i think it is in part, still quite relevant, but i guess the Anglo-India mentality is further removed from me.

most of life is so dull that there is nothing to be said about it, and the books and talk that would describe it as interesting are obliged to exaggerate, in the hope of justifying their own existence. inside its cocoon of work or social obligation, the human spirit slumbers for the most part, registering the distinction between pleasure and pain, but not nearly as alert as we pretend. there are periods in the most thrilling day during which nothing happens, and though we continue to exclaim 'i do enjoy myself' or 'i am horrified' we are insincere. 'as far as i feel anything, it is enjoyment, horror' -- it's no more than that really, and a perfectly adjusted organism would be silent.
~ e.m. forster ~

the glory of the food court

i was at the food court in the craptacular galleria today for lunch, and an old man was looking for an extra chair to bring to his table. a mother and daughter had just abandoned their table, so he scooted over there and placed his palm flat in the middle of the chair. left it there for a minute. stood up straight and paused. then moved to the next chair where he did the same thing. this time he moved his hand up and down along the seat. straightened up and paused. then moved to the next chair. did the same thing, but moved his hand along the seat a bit faster and then grabbed it and took it back to his table. very curious. i couldn't help but stare.

my boss gave me some bamboo for my new desk to welcome me back to the department. it was so sweet. bright orange and blue stones in a square glass vase and three stalks to signify happiness. how feng shui. plus, if you receive a gift of bamboo it's supposed to mean good luck. i'm going to take this all as a good sign.

just finished watching final destination 2. pretty bad, but of course being a horror buff, i'll watch the final installation when it comes out. as far as sequels go, it held more loose ends together than i've usually seen. if you can just sit down and take it for what it is, it's not so bad. one cool thing was seeing michael landes. he was jimmy olsen in the first season of the new adventures of lois and clark. he was replaced in the 2nd season, by some lame ass punk with floopy blonde hair.

man, before i expose too much geek, i should end this bit now...

current song: Kelis vs Coldplay - Nasty Clocks (Attention Deficit Bootleg Mix)

binge and purge

my job at the call centre has been eliminated. they decided (and not before time) that the "call centre" (which consists of two people with no training telling people someone will have to call them back tomorrow) just isn't working. so they've split the call duo in two. i'm going back to work for payroll and my co-worker nathan is working for benefits. this doesn't seem like a big deal, but i am so happy to be back working with my old boss that i couldn't stop smiling all day. there's also better potential for becoming full time in this position. come on big money big money big money! no whammies no whammies!

this is coming shortly after my first ever panic attack. at least i think that's what it was. i'm still not sure. about two weeks ago, i was talking to my frustratingly ditzy (and now former) boss, trying to explain something to her when my head started spinning and i felt out of breath. i ended up running out of the office and sitting on the bathroom floor shivering and hyperventilating. it was so weird. i hope it never happens again, but i think it was my body finally telling me that i can't pick up after everyone. part of the reason why i've been so remiss with my blog is because i've had nothing to talk about besides how much work sucks. the other half of the call duo is a good guy. we go for drinks, joke around and all is well. but he's a terrible co-worker. i was spending all of my time picking up where he left off. if he dropped the ball, i picked it up. everyone would be coming to me to complain about him, and there's only so much i can say to defend the guy. but now with the office changing around, i'm getting a new desk further away from his "i love triumph the insult comic dog" crap, his "you really should invest in mutual funds, put more money in your rrsp, set a price and watch the stock" tirades. look, i hate triumph and, yes, i suck with money, but i don't want a lecture from some lazy ass conan o'brien fanatic.

well, now that that's out of the way...

back in action

well, moved to a new apartment. the phone number stays the same, and i'm still in london. just found out today that we're here illegally. good times. i have to try and smooth things out tomorrow. this is way too stressful. my roommate has gone to bc for the week, work is nuts and now i find out i'm a squatter. christ.

anyway. i've been having a lot of random memories lately. i keep meaning to blog 'em, but now i've forgotten some of them. i'm sure they'll come back.

here's a gem from back in my junior high days. i was madly in love with all the sk8r boyz, and so decided that like a progressive young girl, i should learn how to skate. so i borrowed my neighbour, christopher's extra skateboard, and bought a copy of thrasher magazine (is it still in print?) and generally sucked really bad. anyway, one day i was skating down to the post office with christopher (he hated being called chris. i'd say 'hey chris' and he'd say 'topher'. anyway...), and i'm struggling all the way, and i think we even ran into another chris i had a major crush on at the time, so i was devastated. i check the mail, and lo and behold, there was a letter for me! i opened it right away, and was so embarrassed by what i saw that i hid the letter in my k-way while christopher bugged me about it the whole way home. it was a response to the first and last fan letter i ever wrote....to wil wheaton. to those of you who don't know him, he was ensign wesley crusher on star trek: the next generation. i had written the letter about a year before, and my crush had long since died. secretly, i was excited that i got a response and a picture (when you're from pei, all of these things are exciting), but it totally ruined my 'i'm-a-cool-skater-girl' buzz. he's now running one of the most popular blogs on the internet (he's old skool) which can be fun to read betimes.

so here i sit, in the dark, on a slow crappy computer, drinking a south australian shiraz called hardy's bankside. it's yummy. i highly recommend. i'm trying to expand my wine knowledge, but i won't attempt a sideways summary at this time.

on a final note, my friend doctor lockett has moved to the rock and has started a blog. he's a little long winded (who loves ya baby?!), but he's always got good things to say. i especially love the kilometre breakdown of the drive out there. if you want to check it out: http://newnewfie.blogspot.com/

hope there are still people out there reading this thing. love all y'all.

you put the man in the coconut and grease him all up

and every time i see him i wonder 'does he think he's sexy? does he think i want his body? come on greasy coconut man, let me know.' he is so repulsive. his glistening white hair on his bright red shiny body. yuck. i want you all to get the picture though.

i'm off work for a few days, and can i express how happy i am about that? i'm being productive. reading, glueing wooden desk drawers back together, getting supplies so i can paint some old chairs, packing a few boxes for the move next month. and definitely not answering phones or stressing about paperwork.

so i adopted another cat. that makes two. no more. i don't want to be the crazy cat lady. as it is, i'll probably die single. i don't want to be too stereotypical. in any case, he's one year old and his name is mr. charles bingley. a companion for the 4 year old mr. fitzwilliam darcy. i will recreate pride and prejudice. i will be jane austen...but hopefully not die of mercury poisoning in my 40s.

current music: gorillaz, demon days

yeah, so i suck. whaddya gonna do?

it's been forever i know. things have been very blah recently, and i haven't been in the best of moods for blogging about my boring days. i will blog more. i can't promise to try, but i'll try to try. so a couple of things. in the future i may refer to the following characters:

1) crazy mary - an old woman who pushes a shopping cart heaped with sleeping bags and all her worldly belongings. she likes to yell at people on the street and point out how many hookers there are just walking around pretending not to be hookers. recent quotes from crazy mary: "school abc"; "dislocated thumb"; "it has its mother". more to come...

2) greasy coconut man - he's always in the park when i'm walking home from work. the sun brings them all out. he's a hairy older man with white hair on his chest and shoulders and even a bit on his head. he wears short shorts. he lies on his side, red as a lobster, reading a book, smelling like coconut oil. need i say more? perhaps...yes.

i'm part of the mcclelland & stewart 100 readers club. they asked people to email a few lines to explain why they should get free books and write reviews of them. my lovely entry was one of the chosen ones. it went something like this: "i'm popular, i swear. please pick me." i just finished my first book: the time in between by david bergen. it'll be out in august, and i have a fancy shmancy advance reading copy. it just looks cool. to the bookies anyway...

i've become so used to analysing novels on a technical level that i'm not even sure i know how to talk about how i feel about a book. but here goes...

charles boatman is first a father, and secondly a vietnam vet. it's sometimes painful to watch the story reveal what it is this man has done and how he finally admits to his family the truth of his time in the war. like so many vietnam vets, boatman has returned to the scene of the crime to find redemption or some kind of therapy to help him come to terms with what he's done. but, also like so many vets, he doesn't necessarily find what he's looking for. following their father's disappearance, two of the adult children go to vietnam to find out what has become of their father.

i'll admit that if i read the back cover while in search of a good read, this is not a book i would generally think of picking up (i have to be very lame for a moment and say that i'll try not to judge a book by it's cover from now on). however, i found it engaging, honest and intimate. bergen is a lovely writer. the novel sometimes feels like it was written in a feverish state. half dreaming half awake. anyone who has been to asia will know this surreal feeling that is captured so well here. at times, as the characters develop, david bergen's description of the boatman family relationships is uncomfortable, almost too intimate, too stifling and yet at the same time, this is a family whose members don't truly understand one another or themselves.

so there's my plug. i liked the novel. read it. bring on more free books!