Diary of a Tour Widow

Yet Another Update

2008-04-06T00:44:00.000-05:00

Hey hey hey...it’s been a while.

I thought it would be a good time to write a quick update of some sort. I had very good intentions on catching up with y’all last weekend but it simply did not happen. And for good reasons at that.

It looks like the bitter end of winter is finally here. The days seem sunnier and warmer. I would like to believe we are out of the blue where snow and cold is concerned. I’m keeping my fingers crossed because this winter seemed to drag on and on. The brightness and that certain smell of spring in the air is definitely improving my mood and those around me.

I’ll be honest. Winter was rough, especially from mid-February and on. I don’t care for airing too much dirty laundry via my blogs so I’ll keep it short and sweet - my anxiety was sky high. Sure, I was stressed in several areas of my life - work, health of myself and of others, and so on. I’ve always been the nervous kind but this bout of anxiety was far from fun. I don’t think it was ever this bad - it came to the point of affecting me physically. However, this time taught me something - it showed me that I do have the strength to get help. And I’m not saying that I’m weak and frail either. Bottom line is - I have anxiety and I want to learn how to control it so every day events shouldn’t be stressed over. I don’t ever want it to get to the point where it was at the end of February and early March. I don’t want to be shaky at the thought of leaving the house. I’m much more conscious of it though and I have talked it through with friends and professionals. I’m trying to get out and get a little more active (I tried Pilates tonight!). I’m trying to find the things that make me happy and challenge me. I’m trying to feel less isolated (which I’m beginning to think is part of the problem since moving to Quebec).

So, do you want the good recent news or the bad recent news? Let’s get the bad out of the way first.

Just when I thought my anxiety was on the mend and I was going back to work (I took a bit of a stress leave, if you will), my dog ended up getting in a really nasty fight with another dog last weekend (though the more I think of it, the more I think he was attacked first). Hence no blog update - I was busy mopping up eight bleeding wounds and trying to not cry my head off. Of course, last weekend was the weekend the boyfriend went out of town. Of course! That’s always when shit happens. Anyway, I don’t want to go into details.

My dog got bit about 8 times, very badly. I felt like it was my fault. I didn’t know what to do because I panicked but I tried my best. I couldn’t get him to see a vet immediately because he couldn’t walk that well and we leave on a second floor (refused to walk down the stairs). We couldn’t carry him. He didn’t want to eat or drink. We managed to get him antibiotics the day after, by the persistance of my friend’s mother. When the boyfriend finally got home, we got him (the dog, haha) to a vet. He had a fever, poor thing. They cleaned, drained, and flushed his wounds. We are continuing to clean/flush the wounds at home and give him peanut butter coated pills. After a day or so, there was such an improvement. The swelling is down and he is affectionate again, he has his appetite and he’s smiling at everything. He’s my silly, goofy dog again - back to his ol’ ways. I’m so grateful, so incredibly grateful. I thank my friends that kept me company on Saturday, my friend’s mom who bent over backwards to find help and talk me through my anxiety, and those who called to check in on me and to give me pep talks. We truly appreciate it. :) Toshio is happy and on the mend! Yippee!

And onto the good news....

I’m learning my first instrument. No, it’s not a piano. Le sigh. It’s still cool and awfully quirky! It’s a ukulele, which is a lot more affordable and easy to store than a piano. It’s a cool little instrument too - it’s a metal-bodied resonator ukulele. It has a very bright tone and it’s loud. I got it last night so I’ve been fooling around on it ever since. The boyfriend has been showing me a few things he knows, general music "stuff", and little lessons I can do. I strummed along with him (badly) to a simple song he was playing on the guitar. With the limited chords I am comfortable with right now, I can play the chorus to Aha’s Take on Me (which is not cool, but whatever) and I can also play along with Johnny Thunders’ Sad Vacation. As well, doing some fingerpicking exercises to that riff in Wipeout. Before you know it, I will be tip-toeing through the tulips. But seriously, I’ve discovered that it is a really underrated instrument. It’s actually really cool to play even though you have to hold it high up and the boobs get in the way.

Other than that, things are good. I’m feeling happier. My dog is happier and healthier. Spring is here and it’s causing me to have weird dreams that guest stars ex-boyfriends and Big Brother contestants. I have a brand new shiny ukulele and another week off work between projects. It hurts the bank account but I’m looking forward to warm days and good books and ukulele lessons and home-cooked meals. And maybe, just maybe, another go at Pilates.

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2008-04-05T23:25:00.001-05:00

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Last Night

2007-11-17T19:22:00.001-05:00

All this work has really caught up to me. It's my first day off of my weekend and I feel like a monster of a cold is coming on. I'm heavy-headed, I'm slightly feverish, and all I want to do is curl up on the couch with a blanket. I'm emotional. I need sleep and soup and kisses on my forehead. Sigh.

The man is out of town, playing in Quebec City tonight. He'll be back very early in the morning as they are driving back after the show. I was left in charge of the dog today. I discovered what fun it is to walk a dog when it's cold and you are feeling like pure crap. At least, seeing the dog act silly and run around makes me smile. Yet, I have to say, I'm not looking forward to going out to walk him tomorrow morning and I doubt my partner wants to take him out if he only sleeps for three or four hours.

It's been a weird couple of days. Not weird, amazingly weird. Just weird; emotionally, regarding people, etc. On Thursday, on my way to work, I was laughed at by some teenagers in the metro station. This was not the first time. For some reason, teenagers laugh at me in this city. And no, I'm not being paranoid either. It was almost something out a movie. This chick pointed at me and laughed a big belly laugh, "HA HA HA, LOOK AT HER!". I didn't say anything, as usual. However, I walked away thinking that this really doesn't bother me. And I was grateful that I didn't let such a comment bug the hell out of me like it did in the past. Moments later, I was standing on the escalator. The man beside me, who sounded a bit drunk, turned to me and said, "I just want you to know that you are very beautiful and I hope you have a wonderful day." That was sweet.

An acquaintance from back home passed away today. It's made me a little sad, even though we weren't close. I will always admire her strength and positivity regarding life and her illness.

I'm done like dinner. Must curl up in bed or drink hot tea....

Boring

2007-11-11T16:29:00.000-05:00

I do apologize for doing some website promotion in my blog but I need all the extra cash I can get! I cannot reveal my sponsors - ooh, how mysterious am I? Anyway, I thought I would write a real blog even though it seems as though commentary from friends are limited nowadays. I have to wonder if others are as sick of being online as I am or has everyone moved to Facebook?

I hope you are all well. Happy autumn!

There is not much new at my end of the world. After a long stint of not working, I am back at my job. My work is funny that way. Not "ha-ha" funny either. When there is no work, it's scary. The time off is intense and all my bills stresses me out. I slack off on my sad attempt at budgeting. However, when work starts up again...I transform into a machine. When it rains, it pours - as they say. It seems as though I have been working like a madwoman. I have some regular eight hour days and then I have a monster of a day - nine, ten, eleven hours plus. I can't complain - I do need the money, especially at this time of year. By the end of the week, I am toast. Done like dinner. All I want to do is go to sleep for a good two days. Therefore, my social life is non-existant. I don't have one.

And I can't really say that I mind. Of course, it would be nice to go out on the town and paint it red or get dolled up for an adventurous night. Yet, at the end of the week, all I can think about is being home and comfortable - spending a night curled up on the couch with my partner, the dog at our feets napping away, having a nice homemade meal that I am not in a rush to make. Oh, how domestic I have become!

I can't believe it is November now. Christmas is almost a month away. It is also a month away before I go home again. I have yet to book my flight because I do everything last minute. I feel bad about going, abandoning my dog and my partner. When I went home in the summer, I cried when I left Toshio...knowing that he's sitting there all bummed out and knowing that mommy's leaving. Ugh, it's heartbreaking to leave him when he is giving me that face that says, please don't go.

Anyway, what else can I tell you....

I'm reading here and there, watching some good and bad movies lately, making some wicked autumn meals (like veggie chili and homemade bread and cake), brainstorming for unique and inexpensive Christmas gifts, listening to a lot of Japanese instrumental music from the 60s, still plugging away at my gratitude photoblog, and playing one too many games of online Scrabble on Facebook.

Yep, I'm going through a boring phase.

Weird Dream

2007-09-29T17:07:00.001-05:00

It's been awhile since I have shared my dreams here. I don't know who is amused by my silly night-time dreams other than Dawneth. Anyway, I told my partner that I had a dream about someone and he stopped me - he did not want to know any more. So, I share with you, my lovely blog readers...

I'm in Kildonan Mall, back home in Winnipeg. I'm with a friend. I cannot remember who, but I'm certain it was a male friend. We're walking through the center court area. As with many generic shopping centers, there is this center area with a sitting area (for the old folks and tuckered out parents of teenagers) with a skylight above. So, I'm walking with my man friend...we're chatting...laughing it up. I took a look at all of those sitting in the center court. It's full of goths. Goths, everywhere! And the goths...they had a ringleader in a trenchcoat. I didn't take much notice of who the ringleader was.

As we were walking away from the circle of goths, I heard a heckle.

"What is that? A man!? Look at her hands! She's got man hands! She's got man hands!"

In "real" life, I have had jocko types who have bluntly asked at the bar if I was a man or a drag queen or a lesbian just because I am tall and wear makeup. I never told them "what" I was other than give them a good bark and maybe once I shoved one of the jockos. Anyway, so there I am in the dream getting heckled. I turn around, mad as hell to see who said that. It was their ringleader in the art of darkness. And it was none other than Scott Baio.

I scream. I scream like I never have before. I scream to him that I am not a man. I scream that my hands are not man hands. And I left the best for last for my final scream:

"AT LEAST I'M NOT SCOTT BAIO, CHARLES in CHARGE!"

I walked away and felt incredibly satisfied that I left Scott Baio speechless. And then I felt a tinge of regret when I finally admitted it to myself, "I kinda liked Charles in Charge".

And then I woke up...

Late Summer Update

2007-09-10T21:47:00.000-05:00

It's about time that I let you know the skinny on what's been happening in the lovely life of Linda. I haven't been blogging and writing as much as I would like to and I hope to get back into the swing of things, especially with summer sadly winding down.

I have to say, I had a truly fun summer. If I were to make a list of things that happened, it probably wouldn't amount to much as far as number of things go. I had a lot of great little things happen to me and, for that, I am grateful.

Firstly, we got Toshio the Happy Good Luck Dog. I remember the night I met Toshio. Zak dropped him off at our place as he was dogsitting at another friend's house. I was so scared! I never had a dog before, only cats. I was scared he would turn on me in the middle of the night and attack me when I was peacefully sleeping in bed. Those thoughts left me very quickly after that first night. It didn't take long to fall in love with Toshio. Somedays, I just look at him and I am amazed at what a wonderful creature he is. I am so very glad he is in my life, it's not even funny. I used to hate dog kisses and dog slobber and dog smell, but now...oh, how I love Toshio's kisses and I don't mind his slobber even when it's all over my nice skirts and I could honestly care less that he smells "like a dog". He's my dog and that's all that matters. He is well, thanks for asking! He is getting better around strangers and is behaving rather well. He is still pulling on his leash everyday. He has had many encounters with skunks recently and, knock on wood, he's been one lucky dog.

I'm sure all of you will remember photographs in my previous entries of the distinguished Chester the Cat that lives on my balcony. Just recently, we found out the history of Chester. His owner finally took the time to find her cat, after months of him living in a Rubbermaid container on our balcony. She told me that his name is Vendredi, which means Friday in French. He was born on Good Friday and he is seventeen years of age. He's an old man cat who does not want to go home, she said as she manhandled Chester. Last Wednesday, Chester started to look ill and I started to worry. I know he is not my cat nor is he my neighbor's cat. He is simply a cat that chose to live on our balcony in a blue Rubbermaid container for a house. He looked frail. He could not close his mouth, tongue hanging out. He had a glob of yellow-ish drool on his chin. He looked skinnier and he smelled rather funky. We were all worried, the neighbors and myself included. He disappeared this last Friday and I thought he went away forever. My neighbor ended up talking to the owner. Chester is back at his first home and the owner is not letting him out anymore. I hope she takes good care of him but I sadly doubt it. I wonder if I will ever see his handsome face ever again?

As far as my health goes, my thyroid has once again turned inactive on me. I had another series of doctors appointments and blood tests which determined this. Overall, I haven't been feeling that bad - just a little dizzy here and there, which I naively thought was the result of the heatwave we were having in Montreal. My doctor upped my medication and I am waiting for it to kick in. I have another blood test at the end of the month. As well, I have started a new skincare regime as per my lacklustre dermatologist. My skin currently hates me for using this particular gel that I am using. I have winter skin; dry and itchy. I have discovered that everything I use on my face contains alcohol which causes my face to feel like it is on fire and my eyelids to become extremely dry. I won't give up hope yet so see if there are any positive results.

I'm still laid off from work and I'm okay with that. Work should be starting up soon, so they say. They have recently handed off some paperwork to do at home and that made me happy. I like working from home. It means that I can work while listening to Guns N' Roses in my pajamas. I'm looking forward to starting work again - it gets me out of the house and it's always nice to have a regular paycheque. I'm not looking forward to dealing with people again and being away from my dog however.

I haven't been writing or being as creative as I wanted to be this summer. I have been taking lots of photographs with my digital camera so I guess that counts as something.

I have, however, been regularly watching that reality show called Big Brother. It's something that I am not proud of and I hate to admit how much I enjoy the show. I rarily watch television so you'd think that I would stick with something "smart". Heh, nope. It's trash television. Is it wrong of me to admit that, for once, I adore how the game is turning out? Is it wrong to be excited to see the person I want to win up there in the final three?! Err, admitting this makes me feel ashamed! One last thing - I love Dick!

I had the pleasure, this summer, of entertaining two out of town friends as well. Nicole came out for a few weeks in August and Ren came out this past weekend. Both visits were full of fun and exploration! I had a blast with them. You know, I don't have a lot of friends here so it was nice to get out and see all these little things I normally don't get out to see. It kept me busy, that's for certain! I went many places during this time too, many places I never knew existed! As well, I blew off some steam via the power of shopping. It's about time that I spent some of my hard earned money on ME. We went for lunch, we saw some pretty cool museum exhibits, we went to many different shops, and we did a lot of walking about. I can't wait until my sister comes out or even some other friends back home. Now I know where to take them even though I might still get a little lost along the way!

Speaking of shopping, I started to pick up a few gifts for Christmas already. I always despised those who shop early for Christmas. Perhaps, it is bitterness for being among the masses that shops last minute. I figure that in the long run, I will save more money by shopping earlier and bit by bit versus all in one shopping trip. I will also save some sanity, which is always a good thing. I picked up something cool for my brother-in-law and something really unique for my sister that I just know she will adore! Maybe this will give me more time to make individual cross-stitched goodies for people this holiday season!

Wow, what else can I tell you?!

What does the autumn hold for me? Hmmm...
Continue taking photos and loving my boo-boo dog. I would love to quit smoking for my health and to save money. I look forward to coming home for Christmas but I don't look forward to being apart from Zak and Toshio. I hope to get my ass into gear and start writing something more than a few blogs here and there. I hope more friends come out to conquer Montreal for a day or longer! I hope to have more drinks and more company over and invite more folks for dinner. I hope to work until late spring but we'll see what happens with my frequently unreliable job. I'll probably spend a little more time exploring Montreal on my own.

All in all, I just look forward to being happy and healthy and getting wintery dog kisses.

I'm back

2007-08-02T19:33:00.000-05:00

So!

I should be writing this fabulous blog. You know, one that catches us up on everything that has happened in the last fews weeks. One that rants and raves about what a fantastic trip, without sparing you the sordid details. Believe me when I say that I want to.

However, I'm sitting before the computer and sweating. Sweating for all the wrong reasons. My twelve days in Manitoba was spent in sweltering hot temperatures. I return to Montreal for much of the same. I swear, this delicate flower is wilting.

I'll say this much - I had a blast. My last two trips back home were write-offs, being sick and all. This time rocked. I wasn't sick once! I saw friends, I spent tons of time with family, I kicked ass at American Idol on the Playstation, I took tons of photos (a lot, I'm afraid, weren't as artistic as I liked them to be), I got new glasses, I got a haircut, I spent waaay too much money on cheap shopping (A sweater for $6.99! Capri pants for $9.99!), and so on and so forth.

The downsides, other than the heat, were the terrible mosquitoes and the water. I don't know what it is but Winnipeg water tastes like dirt, even with a water filtering system. Selkirk water is incredibly bad. Not to mention, Manitoba water makes my hair and skin look like crap. Oh, and it always sucks to say bye and feeling like old friends have drifted away because of distance.

I will write in depth of my trip. Perhaps, I will do a photo-blog about it. Looks like I exceeded the amount of photos for my Flickr, so I'll either upgrade or find somewhere else to post them. Until then, hang on tight for a real update!

Hiatus

2007-07-16T18:04:00.001-05:00

If you don't hear from me for a while, I'm on hiatus!

I'm going home for 12 days, starting tomorrow! I will be sure to update y'all when I get back!

See you after the 29th of July!

Dermatologist

2007-06-27T11:37:00.000-05:00

I waited three months to see a dermatologist.

I have complained and talked about my skin before in this blog. For those of you who do not know, I don't have the greatest skin. It is not as bad as before (it was terrible when I was 14 and around 21 years of age) but I still have slight scarring from hormonal cystic acne break-outs. Around PMS, I will have the occasional cystic acne...but as I mentioned, it is not as bad as before. In fact, my skin doesn't look that bad compared to years ago. With age, it is beginning to look pretty good. However, I'm 30 years old and it feels like my face is still 15 - haha. I'm sick of breaking out and I'm sick of the slight scarring. All I want is nice skin for once.

I waited three months for this appointment with the dermatologist.

I pretty much figured that my options were slim as I don't want to go on birth control pills, Accutane, or anti-biotics as suggested when I was 14 and going to the dermatologist. I thought, however, that there might be some other options to explore as it's been over ten years since I saw a dermatologist.

I waited three months to see this dermatologist and I felt like such a number. I was in and out of his room in a matter of minutes. He never asked me about my skin or what medications I have tried in the past, he did not tell me anything about my skin, or even ask "how are you today?". He asked me what I wanted, he took a look at my skin, and wrote a prescription. I seriously waited longer to get fast food compared to the time I spent in the doctor's room. I felt so rushed that I did not get the chance to ask him about another skin concern or a general question about heat rash (my partner is suffering from this at the moment). And I understand that I do live in Quebec but the guy could barely speak English.

Why is that I have to wait three months to see a specialist when he only gives me three minutes of his time? It doesn't seem fair especially when you think of how much money he makes out of my three minute visit!

He gave me a presciption for tetracycline and two different topical gels. Chances are, I won't use this prescription. He never told me what the side effects of these medications are, he never told me if they can be used with the thyroid medication that I am on, and he seemed defensive when I told him that I was on anti-biotics when I was a teen and it didn't work.

I can say this - when I was a teen, I saw a really wonderful dermatologist. He took the time to talk to you, he cared, and he thoroughly explained medications and skincare to you. You could tell he had children of his own. He was warm and gentle and professional. He did not rush you out in a matter of three minutes after a three month long wait to see him.

Anyway, my friend manages a health store. She suggested a number of things that I will look over when I go back home for a little holiday. Maybe I'll ask my family doctor for another referral to a different dermatologist too.

Or maybe I'll just have to live with less than perfect skin as I have been doing since I was 14 years old. Sigh!

Tags: Acne, Cystic Acne, Dermatologist, Skin, Skincare

Frustration Sets In

2007-06-08T00:01:00.000-05:00

So, it's official. Being a tour widow is kind of dragging me down. It's been close to three weeks and I've kept myself occupied. I've kept myself busy. I've even had my hands full, for all the wrong reasons. There has been only one creepy insect sighting and nothing has dramatically broken down or gone wrong (the only close call being the skunk that nearly sprayed Toshio). This kind of luck is rare for me, it seems.

I can say this - I'm lonely. And that is what is getting me down. Sure, I have a four-legged companion now and I am grateful for that. I miss having a body around. I miss laughing with someone. I miss sleeping in and I miss not walking the dog in the morning. I miss being touched. I miss shared smiles.

It was much the same last time around. In the middle of being a tour widow, I turn to porn. Ah, porn! What a faithful companion! I turn it on expecting to be turned on and then the phone rings. I'm alone for weeks and the telephone barely rings. Finally, it does...I race to the phone and it is always the most unsexy people calling at clearly the wrong time. I won't name names. At least it wasn't my ex - he always had this uncanny habit of calling out of the blue when I just so happened to be watching porn. I swear he had some sort of "porn radar" or something when it came to me. Frustrated, I return to my porn only to discover that I overanalyze it to the point of not enjoying it. I shouldn't have to think when I am watching porn, isn't that the rule? So to put it bluntly, I am a bit frustrated at the moment. And that kind of frustration usually leads to pure anger and hatred towards most people. Haha...

I feel like my life has been revolving around the dog and admitting that makes me feel like one big asshole. I can't help it though, it kind of gets me down. At times, people ask me about the dog before asking how I am doing. I go to the park and I am forced to talk...about our dogs. I get advice, whether I like it or not (which I am grateful for, don't get me wrong). Everything is dog dog dog. And though I love my dog, I swear to God...he is aging me which each and every passing day. I'm surprised I don't have any grey hair - thank God for hair dye and good genes!

And for all those smart asses who will leave a comment asking me how my dog is, he is fine. He is getting better day by day, I think (I hope!). Our midnight walks are rather successful, I'm pleased about that. Our morning and afternoon walks - that is when I am subjected to learning the art of patience. There have been mornings where I came home and had dramatic meltdowns while dishing out dog food, actually pulled at my hair while letting out some sort of ungodly moan, and chainsmoked after the walk. I know it's not his fault though - he's only scared. His pulling is insane. Yesterday, he yanked me in such a way that I pulled something in my arm. Ouch.

The worst thing is how people look at me on the street with Toshio. They look at me like some sort of freakshow animal abuser. Some are amused. Some are appalled. Children stop and stare, riding up to me on their bikes without realizing that bicycles tremendously scare the dog. And I hate them all. See, if I truly got off on porn the other night...I wouldn't viciously loathe them as much.

I do what the advice-givers tell me - stop and turn, stand still like a tree. Reward him for good walking with a treat and verbal encouragement. And I do...and it does work. However, when he is scared - there is no stopping him. Saying NO! is apparently a bad thing and it really doesn't work anyhow. Once we hit the end of my street, it is not even a minute's walk. It takes us close to fifteen minutes. And in those fifteen minutes, all I can think about is going on a holiday - anywhere. This afternoon's walk was something else. On one side of the street, two boys were playing street hockey. One the other side, a bunch of five year old armed with heavy metal shovels and planks of wood, hitting the sidewalk. And then a car with a terrible muffler drove by. And then there was an abandoned shopping cart. And then people doing renovations. And then some jackass who playfully commented, "Your dog doesn't listen to you, huh huh huh" (that's French laughter, in case you didn't know). And then, I wanted to breathe fire on everyone.

With all that said, I sincerely love Toshio. He makes me laugh and we have a great time together. We run through the lawn sprinklers at midnight. I sing him songs that make him give me high fives (my biggest fan, by far, of my singing voice). He kisses me in the morning and he guards my side of the bed at night (he got stuck under the bed the other morning though). He runs through the white fluffy dandelions in the morning and has white fluff all over his tongue (and then he yaks, so that part isn't so cute). Other than his fearful walks and nervous barks, he's been a really amazing companion.

My life revolves around the dog. See!

On a good note, Toly took me out for a milkshake yesterday. It made my week. I haven't had a milkshake in many, many years. Sure, they are easy to come by...but I like to abstain from certain delights because when you finally taste or experience whatever it is you are abstaining from - it is explosive with flavor and texture and pleasure.

Heh, way to turn that dirty!

Dealing with Dog

2007-05-27T11:50:00.000-05:00

I think Toshio is officially draining the life out of me! In my head, I am screaming - "Calgon, take me away!" and "Good God, I need a vacation! Please, grant me a vacation! Vegas...Winnipeg...I don't care!".

Okay, so he's not that bad. I have to admit, he's a little neurotic since my boyfriend left for his tour. He is now barking at anything in the house. He has been reasonably good on his leash but this morning he pulled something fierce. He pulled to the point where his collar almost came off. He is really scared of people - people coming out of their cars, people on bicycles who choose to ride on the sideWALK, people who are making lots of noise. I keep getting handfuls of advice for his leash pulling and his barking. I even read online that I am supposed to look out the window to reassure him that there is no threat outside and then say he is a good boy. My hands are sore from the leash already. My body is tired. My voice is tired from saying no. I love the dog, don't get me wrong. I just want him to calm down a bit. God, imagine me with a child - yikes.

One trick I read online actually worked. Have the dog sit. You calmly say his name and "good dog" while softly petting his body, from his head to his legs. It apparently helps you bond with your dog. I noticed that when I do that, he calms right down. His body becomes less tense. He ends up on his back, allowing me to pet his chest and belly. He looks like he is in heaven. It's actually rather adorable. As well, I noticed that since doing that - he is spending more time with me rather than waiting at the door for my boyfriend to return home. I'm feeling lonely...I need some petting and encouraging words whispered in my ear, haha.

I ran into a man and his dog in the park, if you will, this morning. Of course, I didn't even have any coffee in my system so I was pretty out of it. We talked about skunks while Toshio played with his Scottie-dog named Miles. His dog got sprayed three times, once at ten in the morning. He told me that peroxide, baking soda, and dish soap is better than tomato juice to remove the stink of skunk spray. I should get some of that...just in case. According to this man, there are a lot of skunks in this area. Great!

Anyway, I had an exciting Saturday night last night. I cleaned the bathroom. How sexy is that? Of course, the bathroom really did need a good cleaning. I've been putting it off for far too long. Everything is shiny and dust-free. I get a bizarre sense of satisfaction out of that part. However, I could think of more interesting ways to spend my Saturday night than cleaning my bathroom. My entire Saturday was cleaning and saying no to the dog's barking.

Slowly but surely, all the sexy will be drained out of me by the time my boyfriend gets back from tour.

Tags: Cleaning, Dogs, Skunks

Day One

2007-05-26T11:12:00.000-05:00

Ah, so today is the first full day of being a tour widow. I'll begin to conquer the day once the coffee kicks in. My man left us yesterday afternoon.

Our new dog is a little bummed out and that makes me sad. My man told me that dogs can sense your moods so I've been trying to keep up a cheerful and playful attitude around the mutt. Still, our dog waits patiently by the door for his daddy to return despite my efforts. Our first walk together sans daddy went alright. Actually, it felt like tug o' war between us.

Our midnight walk went surprisingly well though. Needless to say, the dog got a little cookie when we reached home. We usually take him to this parking lot at night, which faces a grassy hill. We both run around and act silly. So I let him off his leash and we begin to act goofy together. From out of nowhere, a skunk bolted across the lot. And of course, the dog thinks it is another small dog that he can play with. He got this incredibly silly look on his face that screams playtime. They went face to face and I was yelling at him to get back to me. Thank God, he listened to me and came back with this look of "what's wrong?". The last thing I needed was a skunky dog at midnight with nothing to cure it. By the way, in case something like this actually happens - what do I do? I heard something about tomato juice or tomato sauce. The highlight of our midnight walk? Since it was so incredibly hot and humid out yesterday - we found a lawn sprinkler and ran through it together! That cooled us both off.

Our morning walk was quiet and he was reasonably well behaved. I am not as overwhelmed as I thought I would be with just the dog and me. Now if he can only shut his trap when the neighbors are out on the balcony and I'd be happy! I think he is just trying to protect me though even though the neighbors think he is adorable enough to bring him "cookies". On a side note, the neighbor also brought me a big bag of oranges. I won't be getting any scurvy while my man is on the road, that's for sure.

My man played in Ottawa last night and it looks like everything went surprisingly well. We found out this morning that his phone card has expired which kind of sucks. I don't recall the phone card having an expiration date on it and it was only recently that I put more money on the card. You would think that a card would not expire if the card is still active and being used. I hate wasting money.

In other news, I made an amazing pot of coffee this morning. I'm hoping it kicks in soon. I feel beat and, for some strange reason, my right eyelid is swollen. Just call me Popeye.

I had a dream last night that my friend was pretending to be a werewolf and was chasing me around. I was giggling like a schoolgirl, bouncy in a tight sweater and all.

You know what I'm sick of? Myspace"friend" requests from books. Heck, I love to read. I adore the written word. However, I'm sick of seeing these stupid requests for books. I have accepted a few of them. For example, I accepted a certain book/friend request - not only does his punk rock writings seem interesting, he's a former Winnipegger and he's a cool, funny guy. Books on Myspace are becoming like music. It seems like anyone can put a book out nowadays. I suppose I should not assume but I highly doubt that the majority of these books are any good. I can say for certain, the book covers are usually terrible. I wonder if there is an option on Myspace that allows you to not accept requests from books? I know there is one for bands.

Anyway, this blorg is all over the place.

I should be making good use of my time. Conquering the day or something grand. My place is a mess so I think I should take care of that first. My life should be a little sexier than dirty dishes and laundry, haha.

Tags: Bands, Dogs, Musicians, Myspace, Tour, Tour Widow

Sick

2007-05-19T12:52:00.001-05:00

I've been here in Montreal for almost three years and this is pretty much the first time I fell ill (not counting my wisdom tooth ordeal). My head feels heavy and feverish. My eyes are half-shut. I feel like staying in bed all day, for all the wrong reasons. It could be worse, of course. I can still breathe. My throat is not scratchy. My body and mind is simply feeling worn down and weak. I'm certain I will make pleasant company at the dinner party I am attending tonight. I'll be the one in the corner, grasping my forehead. Come say hi, I'll let out a pitiful moan in return!

Lately, my dreams are scattered and make no sense. I've come to realize the Gods of Sleep are working against me. Last night, I had a fantastic and potentially sexy dream of being in Las Vegas with a handful of former co-workers. I was in a skyscraper, looking at the city skyline with a smirk on my face and wondering what kind of mischief I will find in the middle of my night. Ah...and then the dog woke me up at four in the morning by getting sick.

Speaking of the dog, Toshio is getting along rather well. He is still quite afraid of people and strange objects (bicycles, pylons, plastic bags blowing in the wind, etc). He trusts us now, knowing that he does have a home to go back to and won't be abused. He behaves himself a little better on the leash, as well. He only starts to pull when he is scared or when he knows he is on our street. He still doesn't make much of a production when he has to go outside though so there have been a few messes here and there. I get tons of morning kisses from him, which is a bit strange, and he follows me around constantly, protecting me until a plastic bag crosses our path! And I'm getting used to taking care of the beast too. Of course, he thinks we're equals - I think - and doesn't listen to me as much as he should. I'm trying my best to be more dominent though I admit...sometimes I am so tired of saying no, heh. We'll see what happens when it's only me and Toshio for the next three weeks.

My stint as a tour widow starts next week. I hope some lovely gals will keep me company. Sweaty pillow fight, anyone?!

As some of you know, I get the summers (and Christmas) off at my work. It comes in handy. I get to go home when I can. Anyway, I managed to get a gig typing out my friend's film script...which was actually full of fun and surprises. As well, I took on some extra work from my job to complete at home. Without revealing too many details, I'm doing government agency evaluations via the telephone. It's easy, good money, and I could "go to work" while not wearing pants...if I want to. Pants-free Linda = Happiness.

One of the highlights of my week was finding a long-lost friend on Facebook. I found my old co-worker and good friend Liza. This makes me incredibly happy as she always crossed my mind since we lost touch. She's the kind of woman that brings a smile to your face and makes you feel incredibly glad that you have someone like her in your life as a friend. I've missed our talks and our laughs. She's in Tennessee now, happy and healthy and doing rather well for herself. That's exactly what I hoped to hear from her. I guess the internet is good for something other than porn, haha!

Lately, all I want to do is go home. I've been thinking about home a lot these days. I don't know when I can get home this summer. I have a dog to think about now and I'll be left alone for a good chunk of summer. I have to plan my trip around that and, call me selfish, it discourages me a little. I wish I could be there for when my father retires this month (just typing that brings tears to my eyes). I wish I could be goofy with my sister when she takes her holidays. I wish I could say happy birthday to my grandmother's face rather than over the telephone. I even wish I could be irked by my mom, haha. Sometimes, I feel like the worst daughter in the world for living so far from my family. I think I just need a good dose of endless, beautiful prairie skies and honest smiles from old friends to renew myself. I think I need an adventure.

But first, I have to get over this cold....haha.

Hair

2007-04-29T19:32:00.001-05:00

Freshly cut bangs = happiness.

I need a little happiness, I need a little bang trim. Badly. My bangs have gotten to the point of no return. I am forced to sculpt, if you will, my bangs in place with my bare hands. With this method, my bangs will stay in place for a good hour. A minute past that hour, it collapses like a house of cards. Tomorrow, hopefully, I will get my bangs trimmed and then I'll stop growling at the mirror. Speaking of my hair, I think I can honestly say that I am officially sick of it.

Back in the day, when I had money to toss around carelessly on whatever I pleased, I had some pretty cool hair. And when it wasn't "cool", I was trying fun things with it regardless of the outcome. I guess it comes in handy to work in a salon, like I did back then. As well, I knew some pretty amazing people in the hair business. I had so much fun with my stylist back then. Not only did she do a fantastic job, she had a heart of gold. She was one of those people that you just had to smile with. She saw the beauty in a lot of things, in a lot of people. She always made me feel beautiful and it wasn't because she was an awesome stylist. It was more than just that. She simply was a beautiful person herself, inside and out, who got herself into a bit of mess that I cannot elaborate on.

I haven't really let people mess with my hair since her, other than my mom and a few others. Needless to say, my hair has done nothing exciting for a long time. It's long. It gets caught in things. It strangles me in my sleep. My bangs look fine when they are cut but the rest of it is just there.

I don't like depending and becoming attached to hair. I just want to chop it off without having second thoughts (it's easier to do so when your hair isn't long). I don't like to be caught in that cycle where you wonder and obsess on what-if-it-doesn't-look-good.

Anyway, in the grand scheme of things - this means nothing. It's just hair and I'm just complaining. I've let only about three people in my life cut my hair - my mom, my wonderful stylist, and the stylist at the salon I worked at. Truth is, I just don't trust anyone when it comes to hair.

I'm thinking about finding my old stylist when I go back home this summer. I sincerely hope life is treating her well again. I sincerely hope she is brimming with wonder and beauty again.

Tags: Bangs, Hair, Hairstylists, Salons

RIP June Callwood

2007-04-14T13:04:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, I watched the last interview with June Callwood on CBC's The Hour. It was beautiful, touching - what a marvelous lady she was, full of grace and wit. If you want to watch the video of her, this is the LINK.

Last Updated: Saturday, April 14, 2007 | 10:28 AM ET
CBC Arts

June Callwood, the remarkable Canadian journalist, humanitarian and social activist, died early Saturday after a long fight with cancer. She was 82.

She was first diagnosed with inoperable cancer in 2004, but refused treatment and continued to be active, most recently on the campaign to end child poverty, until a few months ago.

Callwood blazed trails for women's rights, gay rights and the rights of the underprivileged in a history of activism dating back to the 1960s.

The author of 30 books, she was also the founder of a breast-cancer support centre, Nellie's hostel for abused women, Jessie's centre for teenage mothers and the AIDS hospice Casey House.

"The Casey House community is deeply appreciative to the Frayne family for sharing their precious mother and wife with us for so many years," said Jaime Watt, chair of the hospice's board of directors, in a statement. "We send them our love and deepest condolences."

Callwood was a founding member of the Writers' Union of Canada, the Writers' Development Trust, Canadian PEN, the Canadian Civil Liberties Association and the Canadian Association for the Repeal of Abortion Laws, the president of a prostitutes' community organization and a bencher of the Law Society of Upper Canada.

A tireless campaigner who harangued politicians, wrote letters and organized lobby groups, Callwood fought poverty and injustice wherever she saw it.

"She was gentle to a fault ... She wasn't called Saint June for nothing," said friend and writer Sally Armstrong.

Always dressed chicly and known for driving a sporty car, Callwood approached social justice with a smile and joyful, optimistic demeanour. Even living with cancer didn't seem to get her down.

"As a companion, June is self-aware, witty, non-judgmental, sophisticated, informed, passionate, available and loyal — all those special qualities, leavened with her own brand of quirkiness and self-deprecating irony," friend Sylvia Fraser wrote in Toronto Life in March 2005.

Takes on journalism challenge

Born June 2, 1924, in Belle River, Ont., a French-speaking community near Windsor, Callwood remembered the deprivation of the Depression years and a father who left the family when she was 13.

She found her way into newspaper writing during the Second World War, initially at the Brantford Expositor and later at the Globe and Mail.

At the Globe, she met and married sportswriter Trent Frayne, and quit her job at age 20 when she had her first child.

She and Frayne had four children — Jill, Brant, Jennifer and Casey — losing the youngest, Casey, in 1982 in a motorcycle accident when he was 20.

After a period spent raising her children, Callwood began freelance writing, starting with a magazine piece on her flying instructor, a woman named Violet Millsted. She wrote for Chatelaine and Maclean's, tackling such subjects as the sexual abuse of children, birth control, test-tube babies and the battle of the sexes.

It was later, when her children were adolescent hippies, that Callwood began her social activism.

"What brought me on to it was during the '60s in Yorkville — that was my watershed," she said in an interview with CBC Radio.

A hippie at heart

Callwood said she was "entranced by the hippie movement," but noticed that when hippie kids from the Toronto suburbs went home there was an underclass of homeless, poor youth remaining in Yorkville.

"Everyone thought it was a middle-class kids' revolt. What was going underneath [was] that despair of thousands of teenagers who've never had anything and thought for one brief crazy moment that there was a place for them," she said.

Already a founding member of the Canadian Civil Liberties Association, she tried to get help and health care for the poor homeless youth, and saw doors slammed in their faces.

"That politicized me — that did it," she said. She founded a house, Yorkville Digger House, for them to live in.

In the summer of 1968, Callwood was arrested for protesting against police conduct in Yorkville. "I thought I was ruined," she recalled in an article in Saturday Night magazine.

"In my generation, you didn't get arrested unless you were an awful person. One year later, I was B'nai Brith Woman of the Year!"

Founded shelter, hostel for teens

A prominent voice against sexual violence and domestic abuse, she was founder of Nellie's Hostel for Women, a shelter for abused women in Toronto, serving as its first director in 1974. She also founded Jessie's Centre for pregnant teenagers.

She continued to write prolifically on feminist topics — penning Love, Hate, Fear and Anger (1964), Canadian Women and the Law (1974) and The Law Is Not for Women (1976).

Other books from this period include Emma: The True Story of Canada's Unlikely Spy, the story of a young Doukhobor woman from Saskatchewan convicted of spying for the Soviet Union and imprisoned in the late 1940s, and Twelve Weeks in Spring, about the last months of a friend named Margaret Fraser, who died at home with the help of a group of friends and volunteers.

"Someone in that group said to me that being with Margaret was like studying — we were boning up for our own deaths," she said in a 2004 interview with the Globe and Mail.

"It was a huge gift to us, in fact, because there's a great pleasure in providing palliative care, in surrendering your own ego totally in order to stay in tune with the person you're trying to help. You're not calling the shots for once. You're not doing anything except getting the ice cream."

Callwood's next big project was Casey House Hospice, for people dying of AIDS, which opened in 1988 at a time when there was little effective treatment for the disease.

Faced accusations of racism

With her direct, shoot-from-the-hip style, Callwood was described as better at founding organizations than at running them.

She was disparaged by public accusations of racism in the late 1980s, a period of extreme political correctness.

A conference she organized for the Canadian branch of PEN International was picketed by local black writers for excluding writers of colour, despite PEN's plan to bring in writers dedicated to freedom of speech from Ghana, South America and India.

The bad vibrations around the dispute spilled over into her term as a director of Nellie's, where an employee accused her of racism and the board boycotted a fundraiser it had asked her to organize.

There followed months of accusations in the press, with Callwood portrayed as an insensitive WASP, despite her years of activism and Métis background.

"Except for my son's death, nothing in life had hurt so much," she said in a Toronto Life article.

Callwood had two TV programs, In Touch on CBC (1975-78) and Callwood's National Treasures (Vision TV 1991-96), and also a column in the Globe and Mail that highlighted social issues.

She continued writing about AIDS in Jim: A Life With AIDS (1988) and Trail Without End: A Shocking Story of Women and Aids in 1995, the story of 20 women infected with the AIDS virus by the same lover. She also wrote Callwood's National Treasures, a book of portraits of great Canadians.

She has been an awards judge for Governor General's Literary Awards, National Newspaper Awards, 1976-83, and National Magazine Awards.

Callwood was made member of the Order of Canada in 1978 and officer in 1986, and has won numerous humanitarian awards and honorary university doctorates.

She points out that her effectiveness in leading change evolved from her energy and work, instead of privilege.

"I don't have power — I have influence," she said. "Power and privilege? It's an ability to help to change. My prominence is a trust."

A park in Toronto's Fort York neighbourhood has been named after her.

Tags: Canada, June Callwood, Women

The Big White Cat with the Small White Head

2007-04-10T17:55:00.001-05:00

I don't need to tell anyone that I am secretly a crazy old cat lady in training.

This afternoon, I peeked out the front door window to see my neighbor feeding her tabby cat (the one I recently blogged about) and the squirrel. Yes, they were sitting side by side. I never met her before - only her husband, who is a bit standoff-ish but generally a nice man. I heard from Zak that she is a nice older lady so I thought I would say hello and introduce myself. Heck, we've been neighbors since November afterall.

I had other motives though. I wanted to find out the name of her old tabby cat and what happened to her other cat that hasn't been seen outdoors in many months. I've been waiting to photograph this cat that I affectionately call "the big white cat with the small white head". Everytime I saw this cat, I'd get a chuckle. He'd be sitting outside on the balcony tied to the railing with a small string, while sitting on a small piece of cardboard. The tabby was free to roam...but no, the big white cat with the small white head clearly had special needs. We'd imagine that white cat with a white ruffly satin clown collar, just sitting there tied to a string on his small piece of cardboard while saying a humiliating "meow".

Unfortunately, I did not like what I heard. She told me that the (big) white cat (with the small white head) died. He was poisoned. He was on his string (sitting on his piece of cardboard, I imagine). He ate something. He went inside the apartment and died a short time after. This made me rather sad, I have to admit. For months, I have been waiting to photograph this silly looking (but adorable) cat. And now he's gone, died without a name. At least, he had love and a warm home to sleep and a lovely piece of cardboard to sit on.

I asked her what her tabby's name was. He has no name, she said, she did not know. She takes in stray cats and feeds them and, clearly, the tabby decided to live with her and husband. It made me smile - I have a neighbor with a good heart, which is a big change from my last neighbors who piled dog shit in front of our living room window and waist-deep garbage in our fire escape. She seems to feed all the stray cats, as well as the squirrels and pigeons. She seems like a sweet lady, even though sometimes there are about 20 pigeons on the balcony.

I like to believe the big white cat with the small white head died of natural causes, in his sleep where he was dreaming of eating fancy cat food out of foil packets or chasing a delicious bird. May his kitty-cat heaven be lined with cardboard. Godspeed, big white cat with the small white head, godspeed!

Tags: Cat, Cats, Felines, Neighbors

Laugh

2007-03-30T18:24:00.001-05:00

So, I was at the grocery store the other day waiting in line. I was so tired that day. The kind of tired in which you can get into a giggle about absolutely anything. The girl at the counter asked me, in French, if I wanted to donate two dollars for a heart and stroke charity. I was surprised at myself! I actually understood what she said! I was rather proud of myself.

Of course, I didn't know exactly how to respond to her question. I think I know how to say I don't have any money but I don't think that would have been the proper way to express the fact that I didn't have any change on me since I was paying with my debit card. I told her that I did not have two dollars on me.

She was French and didn't know much English. She called the teenaged bag boy over to repeat what she asked me even though I totally understood what she said. The kid comes over and calls me Madam, which kind of makes me sound like a drag queen and/or old but whatever. In his translation, he said:

"She wants to know if you want to give two dollars for someone to have a heart attack."

Bahahahahaha!
I didn't laugh out loud, that would have been rude. I'm sure my attempts at French would sound just as strange. I couldn't help but laugh inside though.

And yes, I ended up donating with my debit card because that was the best laugh of the day.

Tags: French, Funny, Humor, Laugh, Lost in Translation

Angry Rant, directed at so-called groupies

2007-03-24T15:25:00.000-05:00

Ack, I finally have another regular weekend off and I have a headache. Stupid head, it's sucking the life out of me today.

Soon, another tour will begin and soon I will be titled The Tour Widow one more time. I'm trying my best to behave and not leave snide comments due to my petty jealousies about the attention my partner will get from women. Yarg, wish me luck.

I have a beef. I try so hard to be cool and accepting. I know I am. I trust my partner and I believe in what he is doing. But I have such a hard time with the whole getting attention from girls who just like him because he has a musical instrument in his hands. I know, deep down, he likes the attention. Everyone likes attention, everyone likes to feel sexy.

A while back, I caught naked boobies on our computer. It's a band thing - the girls write the name of the band member on their cleavage and send it to the band. It ends up on OUR computer because he is the one that checks the mail, right. It fucking drives me nuts. But I have to accept this because it's not day-to-day real life. It's a band thing, a band image to uphold. I just want a little honesty though. I want a warning. I want to hear that some random girl sent pics of her boobs with my partner's name written across them - rather than accidentally finding them on my computer when I am alone and feeling like shit.

He doesn't understand. I have no reason NOT to trust him. I do trust him, a lot. It is just a little taxing on your heart when you see shit like this all of a sudden. These girls know sweet fuck all about who he is. They don't know it is ME that built a life with him, it was ME who moved halfway across the country to be with him. It is ME that is pretty much financially supporting HIS dream. They just see him as another slutty musician, whatever. It's hard for me to not take it personally.

I work really hard to live. I live in a city where I don't speak the language. I have a very, very limited amount of friends. Everyone I honestly love is back home. I probably expect too much of my partner. Or maybe I miss the attention I once had. You know, back home...I had a line up of guys finding me attractive. Here, I get called "ugly" in the subway, I have girls calling me down there too. My head is all messed up.

Bottom line. I don't want to see your naked boobs on my computer. I'm sure you wouldn't want to see women sending your boyfriend naked photos - women they talk to in a "friends only" way online. Why is it different when the man in question is a musician? They are still people....they still have girlfriends and wives. Respect their homelife.

Of course, you'll all be turning the table on me - my insecurities, my paranoia. Go ahead. I trust my partner. I just don't trust that bitch who'll pay $5 to see a band and expect to "party" with the band afterwards...just because her tits are big and she is shitfaced. Fuck her.

And why is it different - why do I have to be okay with these stupid women sending their naked photos to my boyfriend? I don't see him as a musician. I see him as a person I am spending my life with.

But no, I have to fucking suck it up and accept it. Put on a smiling face and play the role of supportive girlfriend who pays the fucking internet bill, among other bills, and puts up with this shit.

Tags: Dating, Dating a Musician, Internet, Jealousy, Relationships, Tour Widow

Slow Times

2007-03-19T19:27:00.000-05:00

For the first time in a while, I've had an actual weekend off. I'm talking Saturday and Sunday off, plus Monday. I was looking forward to this. I wanted to go for a late morning breakfast. I wanted to do a little writing. Maybe even catch up on some email. Lord knows how lazy I am when it comes to emailing people back promptly. Err.

And of course, my entire body started to fall apart on Friday night. Great.

My teeth started to hurt. You see, I have this one vindictive tooth. Every now and then, it misbehaves. I wait for the pain to pass, as it eventually does. I know that there will come a day when the pain won't go away and I'll have to take care of it once and for all. And that day will probably be when not much money is coming in because life is a jerk that way. Nothing spells fun like getting a $1400 root canal when you are unemployed. *grits teefs*

Just to torture myself...I went browsing around online to see if my tooth pain is related to any other aspect of my health. For once, I actually found good news and not morbid information. Apparently, when your sinuses are messed up it can affect your teeth. I'd rather deal with a sinus issue than a really expensive dental procedure.

Anyway, I felt like my head was a brick this weekend. Tooth pain (it was more like the roof of my mouth was severely bruised, to be exact) truly drains the life out of you. Top it off with the beginnings of a head cold, and you just don't want to do a single thing but curl up on the bed and sleep with the aid of painkillers. And that is what I did. I feel like the weekend just zipped past me and I accomplished little. Curses!

I managed to drag my weary body to the optometrist this weekend though. In my attempt at getting to the bottom of my lack of balance, I discovered that my prescription has changed. Seems like I have astigmatism in my right eyeball which could actually be the reason why I feel like a bit of a lush when I am walking. I hope that's the answer because I'm sick of seeing doctors and having to be aware of how I am walking. Thankfully, it is not as bad as it was back in December. You never really think when you walk down the street, other than to pay attention to cars or a mound of dog shit or a patch of ice on the sidewalk. Since December, I've had to be aware and stay focused while walking. Believe me, it cuts the fun and relaxation out of going for a walk.

When you are under the weather, it is natural to think of all the things that you could be doing if you were well. I have to remind myself that this is my body telling me to slow down and take time for yourself. It's okay to stay in bed with a good book. It's okay to take a long, hot bath. It's okay that you did not go-go-go - even though you have been on the move all week. Basically, it's okay to be lazy. That's what I keep telling myself, since I really do waste time. Sigh.

I guess I did accomplish some. I did some baking, which caused the aroma of cinnamon to swirl around the apartment. I finished reading a pretty darn good novel. I took care of my health. I wandered into an old antique shop to look at this strange instrument and visit the black street cat that lives there. I did all the grown-up things that needed to be done - including my taxes! I made a nice dinner on Saturday night. I watched a silly movie. I wrote to Felica, in one of many journals I have filled for her. I took a nap or two. Oh, and most importantly - I did some sewing. No, nothing fancy and creative. My winter coat's buttons were dangling by a thread and three fell off. My cardigan had a small hole at the seam, which ended up becoming a very large hole. I've been putting it off for such a long time. I've probably looking like a bit of a hobo these last few weeks.

Speaking of hobo, here's a Canadian flashback.

Anyway, I'm off to work tomorrow. This potentially could be my last week of work, as we normally take a bit of a hiatus for the summer. I don't mind being off in the summer but I'd be happy to work well into spring. I need the money, just like everyone else. I'm trying my best to get ahead but it never seems to work that way, even with my brand new nifty budgeting skills. Looks like I'll save a whole $21 this pay period (thanks to our ridiculous hydro bill and getting new glasses so I can see/not fall on my ass). I have this odd feeling that I will sent home early this week. It's a mainly French project we are working on. In the evenings, I'll be waiting patiently by the telephone to purr questions into your strictly Anglo ears...

Tags: Astigmatism, Cold, Eyes, Life, Looking Like a Hobo, Sick, Weekend

Life, life, slow little life...

2007-03-13T19:52:00.001-05:00

I think it is about time for an update. I know y'all missed me. Now, do you want the glamorous version or the truth?!

In all honesty, not much is going on and I think I like it that way. I could, however, be making much better use of my time. I keep telling myself that but by the end of the day or the work week, all I want to do is mellow out and kick back. Thankfully, I don't have a television set that works and gets a variety of English programming otherwise I would probably waste a lot of time. Really, is it wasting time if you choose to curl up on the couch or soak in a bubble bath to read? No, I don't think so.

My health has been alright. The dizziness/lightheadedness is coming back every now and then. It perplexes me. It only seems to hit me when I am walking outside and usually when I am alone. I'm beginning to think it is either completely psychological or it's my ear. I had a nasty ear infection last summer and who knows what kind of damage could be throwing my balance off. I'm also getting my eyes checked this weekend. To clarify, it's not really a dizziness now. It's more of a lack of balance which is a little frightening as I am already clumsy.

Speaking of clumsy, I fell down some stairs the other day. Sadly, I wasn't carrying twelve cream pies. Actually, I was laughing at the neighbor across the street as he was wearing his neon green toque and a bright striped t-shirt. I couldn't help but laugh at his outfit, I wasn't laughing at him. Honest! He is a bit slow and always asks my partner specifically for old coins from other countries. I never saw him in such a bright outfit before and a laugh slipped past my painted red lips - and then I fell down about five stairs to the bottom. The neighbor looked thoroughly disturbed, like I ruined the routine of his entire day. He stood there, looking disturbed at the sight of me falling down the stairs and then laughing to myself at how clumsy I am. A few hours later and my body started to ache. It wasn't as funny as before.

Work has been fine. There's always something to complain about but I'll just keep a pleasant smile on this face of mine. Actually, I enjoy work these days even when it feels long and repetitive. We joke around a lot and we talk girl talk. I like it. And I miss that. There's a lack of girl talk and giggling over ridiculous things in my Montreal life. I have it with my fellow co-workers. I appreciate it. As far as the work itself goes, it's work. Sometimes I'm tired of repeating the same things over and over again. Sometimes I'm sick of smelling them all day long. Sometimes I'm amazed that people take work so lightly, and this is coming from someone who is pretty lazy. I never slept in for work, I'm always on time. Even when I hate the job I am doing, I'm always there and reasonably ready to work. As well, work makes me want to smack people with cell phones. One day I am going to flip out and I look forward to that day. Maybe I'll even stamp my foot as I bark, "we pay you to work, not to text message your - tabernac!"

What else, what else...

I haven't written in a while, or at least not this weekend. Sometimes my mind is distracted. I can't be creative because of this or because of that. I know they are just excuses. But one thing is for sure, I can't be creative if the entire house is a bloody mess. I cleaned this weekend. I started a little writing project a few weeks ago. I don't want to talk about because I'm secretive that way. It's something that takes a lot of thought and I find that I am mentally exhausted after a handful of pages. The way I see it, if I am not in a mental rush in regards to it - there's nothing wrong with taking my time. Who knows if it's any good. Right now, it's just something for me.

Which brings me back to the idea of making better use of my time. I know I should. I know I have to, if I want to continue to be happy after work ends. I find that when I am not working, I fall into some sort of tragic slump. I feel worthless when I am not working. Yet, I start working again and I feel like I am just another working dummy going over the same motions day after day. I have some friends that truly inspire me to create and hone my apparent talents. It's a matter of getting off my ass, quite honestly. It's a matter of believing what you are doing and can do. I lack this. I see myself as a number. Someone who is ordinary and plain, who will never lead a spectacular life and time is running out. I have to shake off that feeling. There is nothing wrong with leading a life that isn't seen as spectacular to others. As long as it's spectacular to you...that is what counts. The problem is, I don't think I am that satisfied and I am often disappointed in myself and what I do. I know there is talent and drive kicking around here somewhere. It's just a matter of doing it. Soon, I will have time. Work will end and my partner will go on the road. I will have time to be creative. I just have to promise myself that I WILL accomplish something that makes me happy whether it's a knitting project or that so-called book I playfully challenged myself to write last year when the band went on tour.

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could go back to certain places and just inhale all the old scents of my past. When I was housesitting years ago, there was the smell of lumber and spring-time that reminded me of going to the lumber store with my father (he used to go to a store called Beaver Lumber, heh) and yet reminded me of the pain of a broken heart. When I worked at the Bay, there was the stockroom full of pillows and comforters (trust me, a roomful of pillows will give off a distinct aroma). That room was my escape from my boss, who liked my Ukrainian cleavage a little too much. The smell of lemon peppered fried eggs and hashbrowns - I could never recreate that breakfast meal or the aroma. The smell of old pencil boxes full of crayons reminds me of being a kid - if I stick my nose close to one of my partner's old parlor guitars, it smells like that.

I'm babbling.

Thursday, I am grateful...

2007-02-15T12:12:00.000-05:00

...for days when I feel sexy. Meow!

Tags: Body Image, Boobs, Breasts, Cleavage, Feeling Sexy, Grateful, Gratitude, Photoblog, Photography, Sexy

My 30th Birthday

2007-02-14T14:53:00.000-05:00

My thirtieth birthday has come and gone. As the calendar page turned over, I was happy to discover that I did not feel instantly older. I still feel like myself, only with a badge that tells me I'm officially an adult now. And as a friend told me at the stroke of midnight, I can now act like a kid because I can get away with it without being labeled as someone in their annoying 20s. Thirty is the new twenty, I have heard as well. And I have heard from enough women in their thirties that reassure me that they are now having the time of their lives. Good to know, it's not like I can physically go back to my twenties anyhow! I'm thirty and there's no turning back - I feel like I should do some sort of celebratory high kick in the air while wearing scratchy polyester pantsuit like that skit on SNL. I'm fifty! *kicks high in the air, without tearing scratchy polyester pantsuit*

I had a lovely birthday, thanks for asking. My boyfriend woke up with me, even though he played a show the night before and got home quite late. He had morning coffee with me, which I found to be rather sweet, and gave me my birthday gift. Ah, my bathroom is now complete with the wonderful skull and crossbones shower curtain that I have pined for, for a long time now. It goes well with my Umbra black fishbone soap dish. *big goofy smile*

It was a quiet birthday, however. I had to work that day and, boy, was that a kick in the pants. It was not a stressful day, thankfully, but we were at the end of a project so we had to work our asses off. Luckily, I have a flexible voice that can reassure or excite or convince - whatever you want my voice to be, it can. Of course, someday people are jerks and my voice's capability will not prove successful. On my birthday, I was on fire. We had to get the project done so I played it up. I added concern, if the person was unhappy. I became uptight and professional, if the person was uptight and professional themselves. My voice was outgoing while talking to giggly college girls who just love, as I imagine them jumping up and down and having a sweaty dorm-room pillow fight, the quality of service provided to their student loans. Oh, and the best...my greatest ability, adding sexy to my voice to convince men to participate in telephone studies. Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. It's bad enough that they honestly don't want to participate. You might as well make it a little entertaining for them. Anyway, I ended up working overtime on my birthday. I didn't get out of there 'til well past seven at night.

I came home to a wonderful, casual dinner made by my boyfriend. He's a good cook, needless to say. We talked about our days, his show the night before that I could not attend. My belly was full of homemade food, which is truly a great feeling on a cold winter's night.

My telephone was a little too quiet, I must admit. A friend from back home did call but did not recall that is my birthday. Even though he oftens calls me his best friend and we have known each other for about ten years now. At least, I talked to my family and a few phone calls trickled in over the next few days.

A little later in the evening, a couple of our friends stopped by. They went all out for my birthday and it did make me miss home a little less. Thank you! I couldn't believe people took my online birthday list seriously - I mean, I did secretly want all those things I posted but I was simply joking around when I said to buy me things. I'm not that much of a princess, I swear. I just have a stupid sense of humor. Nonetheless, Ryan and Vanessa came armed with individually-sized penis cakes for my thirtieth birthday as they knew a friend of mine back home makes penis cakes and they didn't want me to be missing home on my birthday! It was a very sweet gesture that made me smile. They gave me a little gift, full of nice things like penis candles and a penis post-it notepad and a penis birthday card and Avon footsoak/cream. I guess the Avon part didn't quite fit with the theme there, but my feets are quite happy now! As well, they are giving me the Housewives Tarot deck that I wished for but it is a little late on arriving. I felt truly spoiled. Also, I opened the gift from my parents. It wasn't so much the contents of the gift that surprised me - it was sheer amazement and wonder of how my mother can fit so many little gifts into one regular sized box. I know Parris probably read that sentence and laughed a great dirty laugh (no matter how I worded that, it still sounded dirty). My parents gave me a ton of stuff - from the fancy KitchenAid pizza cutter that matches my curtains and dishes to packets of rice and Asian seasonings, from cute coffee themed pajamas to various bakeware found at the Dollar Store or at garage sales. Oh, and plenty of chocolate and little cards from them and my grandmother. I felt so loved and spoiled - but I'd give those gifts all up just to have a slice of cake (um, not the penis cake though) with them that day. Well, maybe I wouldn't for that pizza cutter, haha. It's the sexiest pizza cutter I have ever seen, I have to mention.

All in all, I had a lovely birthday with my friends. We sat around and talked, ate a little penis cake, and had a good time. I ended up dipping into the gin by myself and felt a little warm and fuzzy. Good times.

On a side note, I have been feeling a lot better since taking iron supplements and thyroid medication. I feel much more mentally sharp and on the ball. It's been a long time since I felt this way. I no longer feel dizzy and incapable of walking fast in public. I feel a bit happier and more willing to work at what makes me happy, if that makes any sense. It is as though my creative edge has woke up after too many years. I hope this is a good sign as I enter my thirties.

Here are some pictures of my night...well, mostly just the penis cakes, haha.

I received a small chocolate mouse from my co-worker Nicole.

Clean shaven, straight hair, curly hair, and black!

What fine craftmanship!

I ate the black one.

Note, penis candles! Happy Birthday to me!

Tags: 30, Birthday, Cake, Gifts, Happiness, Health, Penis, Penis Cake, Presents, Thirty, Turning Thirty

Turning Thirty - A Wishlist

2007-02-05T18:50:00.000-05:00

So.
I'm actually hitting the so-called "big 3-0" this Saturday. Yikes, I'm not sure if I like this "milestone". It's intimidating and haunting. Thirty. 30. Three-Zero. No matter how you type it, it all seems too grown up for me. Dare I say old?

Actually, it doesn't seem old considering that many of my friends are well into their thirties and they are all still cool and stylish and act like little kids every now and then. It's a kind of strange that sits on a more personal level. It's like one day you are in your carefree twenties, boozing it up and not worried about money (or whatever people in their 20s do, haha) and then the next day you turn thirty and wonder where those years have gone, all those New Year's resolutions that never have been completed. Perhaps, I would think differently if I had others to care about (err, like children) to put things into perspective. Or maybe not. I could be just talking out of my ass as far as I'm concerned!

It's weird, though. There are a lot of things that I should have done and probably shouldn't have done, in my twenties. I won't be spending my time here, beating myself up and confessing all the shitty choices I made. Like that time I thought it would be a good idea to go to school and get a student loan. Farg! I think about that every time I go to work. I paid X-amount of money for school and I work at a call center? Well, at least it is a decent one that gives me time off when needed and I'm mainly doing supervising. I just got a raise the other day - go me! I think about all the things that I did not do - like use my talents. Turning thirty isn't a death sentence though, there's plenty of time to complete what I truly want to do.

So, on that note, I am turning thirty. Therefore, you all should get me presents. Last year, I posted a wish list and received NONE of them. Actually, I ended up buying myself a couple of them well after my birthday. I'm posting another list, for your enjoyment. Hint, hint.

Last year, I asked for a skull and crossbones cardigan. I'm still waiting! Hell, I'll even take a plain pink argyle cardigan!

Also, I asked for the Housewives Tarot card deck. I did not get this either. That's okay, I can still go on the website and play around. By the way, they are available on eBay. :)

I still want a naughty, naked latch hook rug kit. Not necessarily this pattern, but something with naked boobies that I can create with little pieces of yarn. Check out their website - www.madewithsweetlove.com.

And I still want to see a giraffe. Please, take me to see a giraffe? I'm pretty and I want to see a giraffe!

A new addition to my birthday wishlist is a retro Winnipeg Jets t-shirt. Not like I like hockey, I just like Winnipeg and I want to attract other 'Peggers to me when I'm walking down the street. Girl sized t-shirt, please!

A skull and crossbones shower curtain. Yes, it will make our bathroom look even more tiny, but at least it will look stylish! It will also go well with my fishbone soap dish.

Yarn. It seems to be a little too challenging to find craft supplies in Montreal. I want to make a hot pink scarf, meow!

I want some bubble bath. I prefer Ombra's line of bubble baths. Nothing beats a Ginger Lime bubble bath on those wintery nights.

White roses. That would be nice. I don't need 12 of them, one will do just fine.

Last but not least, a penis birthday cake made by my lovely friend Nicole. I don't expect to get one as she lives far away and it probably wouldn't look or taste good when it arrives in the mail. Ah, maybe she can surprise me with one the next time I come home!

You get the point and I'm getting kind of bored posting these pics. I'm pretty easy when it comes to shopping - books, homemade gifts, sexy gotch, or even a simple card will make my day. What I really want I can't have. That is to be with my family, with a little boozin' it up with my old friends back home, and later come stumbling to play with my cat Tiki. Sigh!

Tags: 30, Birthday, Gifts, Presents, Thirty, Turning Thirty, Wishlist

Chia Hippo Update - Jan 24-28th

2007-01-29T14:08:00.000-05:00

So, it's been a few days. Let's see what's happening in the world of my Chia Hippo...

He's starting to look a little more hairier! Thank goodness, I was beginning to worry about him.

He is finally comfortable with his new hairstyle. Note, the subtle smile on his Chia Hippo face.

Unfortunately, he is still suffering from a wee bit of patchiness.

Chia Hippo after his pilates class. He really broke a sweat this time.

Ah, Chia Hippo. I think he is looking smashing!

Tags: Chia Pet

Blood Test

2007-01-29T13:51:00.000-05:00

So the good news is I'm not going to die. I can now sleep at night, haha.

I received the blood test results today and I am now glad that I didn't throw that raffle. Otherwise, I'd be handing out the prizes left and right! Fortunately, there is nothing too severe that cannot be fixed. Being a lazy vegetarian didn't pay off - I seem to be "severely anemic". As well, I have a bit of low blood sugar and low cholesterol. Not only that, I have a "lazy thyroid" (but I'm pretty!). I guess I shouldn't laugh at that. I just keep imagining my thyroid gland kicking back on a recliner and watching television all day long. The good news is...my cervix is in perfect form. Ha-zah!

These results don't come as a true shock to me. Actually, it all makes sense. My doctor said that with a "lazy thyroid" you often feel tired and you have no desire to do anything. Heh, and how! It explains my pale complexion better than the fact that I used to go to goth clubs, haha. It explains how terribly weak I feel sometimes. Somedays I feel like Mr. Burns, all brittle and weak.

Now, I have to take iron supplements and thyroid medication. And then I'll begin my career as a world class arm wrestler. Watch out! Truth be told, I'm just looking forward to having energy again. I can't remember when I last felt like I had some.

And you all thought I was just sleepy and lazy!

Tags: Anemia, Blood, Cholesterol, Health, Iron, Thyroid, Weakness