Folks, I am calling in supports.
The salt and baking powder and peroxide have all been managing this infection, but it sure as fuck isn't gone. Now my throat on the infected side of my face is tender to the touch and I wince every time I swallow. I'm going to see my nurse practitioner today.
This is especially useful seeing as how I can check with her before I go tell off my Crazy Family Doctor.
Plus maybe I will also get some drugs for my mouth. I'm not a user of antibiotics - it's been many years since I've needed them. But I'll take them if they will help stop the hurting.
I'm trying to keep my mind off Mumbai by doing silly things. One of my BH's Christmas gifts came in the mail yesterday and I was so excited that I gave it to him within hours of unpacking it. Yeah, I know, but I didn't want to wait. It was a set of medical books published in the 20's - they cover such fascinating topics as personal hygiene, your heart and mental health. So great. He was thrilled and we spent some time reading through the chapter on how the first step to good personal hygiene is breathing air. Because it's free and without you die. It really said that. And then it explained the full process of suffocation if you happen to not be breathing air. Yup.
This weekend there are birthdays and dinners and quality time with my pup. My budget is going to suffer a bit in the next few weeks but we've cut down SO MUCH on our expenses that I accept December doesn't play by the rules.
Speaking of December, 'tis the season of giving. When I was getting my food bank donation list together, I realized that it might also be good to prepare a package for a local women's shelter. I asked a friend who does shelter work what kinds of things I should get. She said that a lot of the women at shelters don't ever get special things this time of year (or ever). No gifts, no special groceries, no treats. She said things like good shampoo and conditioner, granola bars, cake mix, $10 gift certificates and just about any other fun extra is greatly appreciated. I think I'll have a good time putting that gift basket together.
If you would like to join in this holiday season, there is also the United Way campaign going on. You can donate here - it's a very easy way to make a difference.
Folks, I am calling in supports.
I was having a grand old time yesterday until I noticed "breaking news" pop up on my TV screen.
There were coordinated attacks in Mumbai. Where my BH grew up, where his family still lives, and where we spent a month of our time a year and a half ago. Concern.
"The attacks began at the Leopold Cafe.."
Huh. I've been there.
"Then at the main train station..."
"A popular and central cinema..."
Went there. Saw Spiderman.
"And the Taj hotel in Oberoi."
Spent a fair amount of time there.
"It is so far unclear who the targets are."
Well, judging by the locations, rich people and tourists.
All the family is safe and accounted for, thank you to those of you who wrote to check in. The whole situation is out of control and sickening, and seeing Leopold's covered in blood is not something I will remember fondly. I'll be watching things unfold throughout the day, since there are still hostages in one of the targeted hotels and the Taj is on fire. As I suspected, the attackers apparently asked for passports to determine the nationality of their hostages... Last report I heard said they wanted US and British citizens. Still, many Indians died in the attacks and the death count is around 100 so far. My thoughts are with everyone in Mumbai and everyone affected by this disgusting display of violence.
Yup, nothing cheerful to say today.
I really need to stop giving my little sister advice.
First of all, she never takes it. But not only does she ignore the advice, she always insists I am wrong. If I gave out advice constantly, I would understand - who wants a know-it-all big sister? But I try to only give her advice when I'm really REALLY familiar with something. Besides, I've always appreciated hearing other people's experiences when I'm about to fuck something up.
The latest example is footwear. She bought a pair of very nice, very expensive Spanish leather boots. She plans to use them for winter.
I have a pair of shoes from this company, and my BH has two pairs of their boots. He tried to use them for winter last year, but since they are designed for warm weather, they nearly fell apart. No amount of weatherproofing could save them from a Canadian winter. Plus, they aren't lined. I mentioned this to my sister, fearing that her beloved boots would get destroyed after a couple of snow storms. She did that belittling "well obviously I'll weatherproof them" thing and I reminded myself to just stop trying. Just stop trying. Just stop.
In more exciting news, I have discovered the most hilarious (and ridiculous) infomercial I've seen in ages. Behold The Snuggie. Is this not the most insane sales pitch you've ever seen? Isn't this thing just a backwards housecoat? Sometimes I can't believe this stuff exists.
I'm attending a party tonight at a store where I used to work. Last time I went to one of their parties, I drank too much champagne and did an embarrassing little dance in the storage room. Probably while singing an embarrassing little song.
Hopefully tonight will be less messy.
EDIT: DUDES! I've been nominated for a Canadian Blogging Award under the Personal Blog category. I am very grateful for the nomination and I really appreciate all of you who take the time to read and comment. Some of my other favourite people were nominated too, so go have a look and vote before the end of the week!
So I think I've decided to take the "suck it" option with my Crazy Family Doctor.
In reading the comments, I realized that it's not the $40 fee that bugged me, it was more that I had to physically go get my files and explain why I wasn't going to stay on as a loyal patient. What is this, grade school? If I'm paying $40, they had damn well fax it to my new doctor or dip it in gold and mail it to me. And then buy me a cake.
Thanks for all your advice... If CFD asks why I'm telling her to suck it, I can be creepy and whisper "THE INTERNETS MADE ME DO IT."
And now, because I am mastering the art of TMI, I will happily report that my out-of-control mouth infection seems to be responding to the smack down I have imposed on it. I resorted to rubbing salt directly into the wound, which in turn made me double over in pain and whimper to myself. Poor Morty took one look at me crawling around on the kitchen floor, drooling, wailing and trailing salt, that he turned around and ran the fuck outta there.
But I am hurting less now and I can move my tongue again. It's going to be a good day.
I got another splinter this morning... This time it appeared to be metal with paint! Sweet Jesus, I have mad splinter skills.
The food bank has been on the news a lot lately, particularly the fact they are running dangerously low on canned goods this year. I visited the main branch of the Ottawa food bank during my third year of journalism school to do a story on students who use their services. I realized very quickly how much people need this organization, and how bad things get when they run low on food. I may re-jig my budget and make a grocery trip to buy them some canned food.
Maybe I should issue this invite to the blogging community at large... Is anyone interested in donating to the food bank? Either by way of a pantry clean-out or a grocery shopping, they could use the help. If you make the effort to donate, blog about it and I'll give you a virtual pat on the back. Or maybe even an in-person pat on the back at the next breakfast!
So I have this great new doctor / nurse practitioner. I did blood tests for her and everything seemed hunky dory. We chit chatted about my health and nothing overly exciting came up. I mentioned that I had a bad family doctor who would have more files on me should she want them. She said sure, why not, and faxed them for the info.
Now I have a message on my machine from Crazy Family Doctor saying I'll need to pay $40 and come in person to pick up the files. She also wants to know why I'm leaving. Crazy Doctor is nowhere near my home or my work, and I'd pretty much have to use vacation time to get out there. Also, I don't want to pay $40. Plus, if I got onto the topic of why I'm leaving, I'd probably get very angry and say rude things. I don't really want to do that. I mean, I wouldn't mind telling her the basics, but I don't want the chance to go off on a tangent.
My question is: can I just forget about the files, which aren't terribly exciting anyways, tell Crazy Doctor to suck it and never go back? Do I really need to have those papers transferred? My new nurse practitioner didn't seem to care either way.
I was hoping to update this blog a little more frequently than I have this month, but having a virus take over your computer really effs things up. You know how long it took this baby to power up just now? About half an hour.
Other than my sickly laptop, it's been one heckuva weekend. I had a lovely brunch that XUP describes better than I can. You bloggy folk may think I chat a lot about my puppy here, but it's a whole other ball game in person. As in, I do not shut up about him. And I speak with gestures, no matter how obscene. You're welcome.
My mom and I had a great day baking Christmas goodies, which isn't something we've ever made a habit of doing. I think that should change. We made toffee (actual honest to goodness toffee! It took 15 minutes!), white and dark chocolate almond bark, and key lime cookies all from the latest Martha mag. I am scared that I'll eat all the sweets before I can gift them, they are that good.
I also discovered that the aching pain I've had in my mouth for the past two weeks is a giant out-of-control infection. When I mentioned this to my mom, she said she was surprised that I let it go as long as I have. In explaining myself to her, I realized that I tend to let dull pains take care of themselves, often to my own demise. Sharp pains? I deal with ASAP. But a low, throbbing pain in the back of my mouth? Aw hell, I'll just let that get worse until I have trouble swallowing and my face starts to look puffy.
There's a fun show happening at the Manx tonight, so I think I'll head down there as soon as I gargle again with salt water and wince at the pain I pretty much caused myself. It's going to be an experience, I'll say that much. Salt on the wound.
This virus-bound computer is getting taken in on Tuesday for a little TLC, so hopefully I'll be able to write a little more frequently come December.
Stay sexy, folks!
Well, what do you know.
The test was easy, and even included fabulous words such as "aroused" where I can only imagine they meant "incensed." Who likes to giggle out loud in a tense testing room? Me! Sadly, since I was the only person there writing the test in English, I was also the only one who got to read that particular phrase. I think that kind of translating genius should be read out loud to everyone, don't you?
Things have been looking up, so to speak, ever since. I'm going to see Megan read tonight at Venus Envy, my very favourite store, and I know for a fact that some lovely locals are going to be there too.
I got to hang out with my awesome pup at the dog park where he is becoming better and better at playing with other dogs. Not that he was ever bad, per se, it's just that he didn't understand how to read his canine friends and so would try to cuddle when they were growling at him. No more! He is a changed doggie and knows when to cuddle. Most of the time.*
Two of my closest friends got really good news and I was thrilled to hear it.
I baked some cookies and ate lots and lots. And lots. Hey, I'm building survivor fat.
My Life Organic order came (I totally forgot it was already Thursday!) and brought me loads of fresh purple kale. Fucking right, I love that stuff.
So, yeah, you could say it's been a good day.
*My favourite memory at the dog park was when a large German shepard pinned Morty down with his paw and licked him from head to butthole. This dog cleaned Morty EVERYWHERE. My poor pup just lay there looking horrified, like his dignity was forever tarnished. Because, you know, it WAS.
Aah, my splinter came out.
This evening has been weird - I took too long to eat dinner and now my head is all messy. I made a tasty roll with filo and feta and spinach but it's too late to reverse the wooziness I'm feeling. The woozy has taken hold. The woozy is here.
The radio is playing choral music and melting at how pretty it is. I could listen to choral music, especially a good treble chorus, all night. Did you know that the Ottawa Children's Choir may lose all its funding if these municipal arts cuts go through? As well as Ladyfest and pretty much every other excellent arts institution this city has built? Yeah. Just sayin'. Maybe it's the woozy talking, but that makes me really fucking mad.
Mayor Larry, you've always been so bad it was almost funny. Now it's not funny. Now you are an even bigger piece of shit than you were before. Hear that? You're a turd.
I have to write a test for a job tomorrow and I'm nervous. Not only because I know I'm not going to get the job, but also because work has been too busy to even try and prepare. Lose and lose.
On a lighter note, it's only a week and two days until I get my hair cut off and dyed some new colour. That always puts me in a great mood. I want part of my head to be shaved when it's all said and done.
Time to pass out and face the music tomorrow. I honestly can't wait for the weekend to come.
I stayed home sick today.
Yesterday, I was legitimately sick. I felt nauseous and my throat was uncomfortably scratchy. So I slept in today and took my time getting dressed - I assumed I would still feel awful. But no, the sleep fixed me, so I had a refreshing day off. Score. I hung out with my awesome dog and tried to stay out of my BH's hair. Sometimes I forget how stressful university can be, and I'm sure I was on a short fuse through the last couple years of my degree. I just need to remind myself of that every now and then. Nobody likes being on the receiving end of Cranky.
During my attempt to stay out of his hair, I ran half a million errands. As much as I love days where I can lounge around, I also fucking LOVE feeling productive and checking stuff off my list. I also had some 'me time' at one of my favourite spots: the basement of the giant Book Market on Dalhousie. I could, and sometimes do, spend hours there. It was therapy of the cheapest kind. Although it was the first time I noticed that they don't have very old books there... The earliest I could find were from the seventies.
I also went boot shopping and came back with nothing because I was haunted by my budget. That was dumb, because I set aside the money for boots... Booo.
Has anyone ever felt like they were waiting for their lives to start? It's a weird question, I know. I've done a lot and I like what I do. But I feel as though I'm waiting for something. Something big. Something different.
I have another splinter!!! This time it appears to be made of wood, not glass. What am I doing to get so many dang splinters?
Things are still quiet on the music front, but I'm not complaining. It was a busy fall and I'm grateful for the down time. Besides, I'm finally writing songs again! Happy day! I've also concluded that I should probably sell my beautiful Thai mandolin, since I've used it once in three years. Or I could put it up on the wall and call it art, since it looks nicer than it sounds, what with all the pearl inlay... Shit, I thought I was all decided! Back to the drawing board.
My BH, myself and the in-laws went to the NAC on Saturday to see the Indian production of Midsummer night's Dream. Holy hell it was good. It was performed about 30% in English, and the rest in a variety of Hindi dialects. My BH and my in-laws giggled at all the clever jokes that I couldn't understand, but it didn't even matter. It was just brilliant. It helped that most of the actors were half naked and delicious looking. Half naked, muscly and Indian? COUNT ME IN.
Morty is doing very well. He's like a little tank, he's so strong. But he's also the most cuddly dog I've ever met, and he's been quite a snuggle-puss lately. I love to nap with him except when he re-arranges and manages to rest his nuts on my head. Not so cool. He's also started barking in his sleep. I wonder what he's dreaming about?
You know what's going well? Budgeting. We're using cash for our purchases, and we're keeping a close eye on our receipts. The rest just falls into place. It's calming, actually.
I am having a blast getting ready for Christmas, and I'm not even spending that much this year. I think my favourite part, other than the copious amounts of baked goods, is finding gifts you know the other person will love.
Speaking of which, my BH has mounted a campaign to find out what his gifts are this year. NOTE TO BH: NO SNOOPING OR YOU WILL GET COAL IN YOUR STOCKING. Love you.
That is all.
I have spent my evening eating peanut butter chocolate rice crispy squares and working on my BH's Christmas present.
The eating part has been easy, and ever-so-enjoyable, but the present part has been hard, because my BH has been in the same room as me the whole time. How did I manage this, you ask? I would tell you, but then my BH would find out what his gift is and I would cry. So I'll have to tell you all about my devious gifting after the holidays are over.
Today was a pretty typical Friday, but I spent more time than usual giggling to myself at my desk. This was triggered because I wrote an e-mail to The Colombian to catch up and tell him how I'm doing. When I write to him, I follow the standard letter format where you ask the other person questions about themselves to be polite. I write things like, "How have you been?" and "Did you sell your condo?" and "Where are you working now?". You know. Polite things.
But these questions are exactly what brought on the giggles. See, The Colombian never writes back. I mean, NEVER. When he was living in Montreal years ago we had a bit of a fight because he didn't contact me for a good six months. At first, I was angry. I mean, how can such a close friend fail to return a simple e-mail? Then I got used to it, and accepted the fact that he's a lame-ass communicator. Like, sucky as shit. And he admits it.
Still, when I write him letters, I have to giggle at the fact that I might as well not be asking him anything at all. I probably won't get an answer until he's in town, at which point he will call me and say, "Did you know we're in the same city for 24 hours? I miss you. And thanks for all the updates."*
In a couple of weeks I'm hitting the esthetics jackpot. I have a trip to the spa, a waxing appointment and a hair cut all scheduled within a few days of each other. The spa is being paid by gift certificate, and the others are just really needed. I am so looking forward to those appointments. Well, maybe not the waxing so much. And actually, every time I get a spa massage I flash back to that time I was in India and decided to get a Aryuvedic massage with my BH. Then we got stripped down to nothing, oiled up, and spanked for over an hour. It was pretty much the worst massage EVER. The only thing my massage "therapist" could say in English was "ticklish?" and I had to laugh and nod because she wouldn't have understood "no, I'm bleeding internally." Then we limped back to the hotel.
I think I told you guys that story, right? The naked oily spanking story?
So now I'm just waiting for my BH to go to bed so I can finish up this part of the gift. Yup. Just biding my time.
Tick tock, tick tock...
*You know what he does do though? TEXT MESSAGE. He will text message me a fucking novel before he'd return an e-mail. True story.
Milan came over for tea and Morty charmed him. By charmed I mean humped his leg vigorously. Four separate times.
Milan was very understanding. I mean, who could stay mad at this cute mug?
It's fun when Milan visits because he says long words with a straight face. He asked me if I could recommend any interesting music so I gave him Fuck The Pain Away by Peaches. With a straight face.
I think I'm coming down with a cold, so I'll be happy when Friday is done and I can crawl into bed with my Martha magazine and an alcoholic beverage. Isn't brandy a cure-all drink?
One useful thing I did on my day off was call SOCAN. I joined several years ago and pretty much heard nothing back. Ever.
I should have called several years ago, of course, but it was the last thing on my mind. It's a good thing I got around to calling at all though, because they never got the package I sent them to register my songs, and I've been doing everything wrong regarding my live performances. Let that be a lesson to those of you who do the SOCAN thing. Make sure you do it right! They only keep their stuff on file for one year, and then you get zip in terms of royalty money.
I suspect the lady on the phone thought I was a weirdo because Morty kept groaning in the background throughout our conversation. He also made these really dramatic sighs that I'm sure got picked up by the receiver. I probably should have clarified that it was a puppy making those noises, just so she didn't think there was a bored/aroused/pained human sitting beside me. Oh well. I make a great first impression. I know.
So this budget thing is getting pretty exciting. Mark helped me spiff up my excel sheet and now I'm off to the races. So far I've learned that it's five million times easier to control your spending when you're collecting receipts. For the first time in years, I'm actually taking note of how much everything costs. It's a nice feeling. I'm starting to think that I'd be happy to have a budget forever... Not just when I'm tight on cash.
My BH is making chocolate peanut butter rice crispy treats tonight, so I'll catch up with you guys tomorrow when I'm ten pounds heavier. Kiss kiss.
Yesterday was a strange sort of day.
I thought a lot about my grandfathers, both of whom fought in WW2. I wondered what it was like for my Zeidi, who was Jewish, to be fighting that kind of enemy. I thought a lot about war, and how although I am as anti-war as they come, I still think a lot about the sacrifices people made so the next generation would have some sort of freedom.
I wondered about the wars that are being fought today. Didn't they have the war to end all wars? I wish that had been true, but it seems no matter how many Remembrance Days we have, our collective memory is short. I thought, and I thought, and I thought. And then I kind of wished I had gone down to the Cenotaph after all. Especially when I heard the children's choir on the radio, and sang along with all the harmonies.
But instead I had a quiet day. I went to an antique store in Hintonburg, just because I wanted to look around. They had an old trumpet that caught my eye, but I'm not ready to tackle a new instrument yet. I baked cookies and ate more of the dough than I care to admit here. Morty and I took a long nap, and I noticed that he has taken to howling and barking in his sleep. Not the most restful sleep I've ever had, especially when he kicked me in the face. Maybe he was dreaming of kung fu. Later, I went to the Green Door with my folks and my Bubbi. A nice time all around. I really enjoyed their eggplant salad, as well as everything else, of course.
When I was walking Morty this morning, we bumped into Michael of New France fame. "I saw you in the paper this morning!" he said. I wracked my brain... Why would I be in the paper? I don't have any shows coming up. I'm not doing anything particularly exciting. Then I remembered being interviewed for an article in the Citizen a good six months ago. They were doing a piece about musicians who have day jobs. It never went to print, even though they did a full photo shoot. Could that be it?
I've since gotten my hands on it, and sure enough, it's the six-month old interview and photo. I'm in my old house with an old haircut, but I like the article. If you happen to get that newspaper, I'm in the arts section holding a banjo.
Oooh, Shawna just sent me an e-mail about it. She pretty much sums up my thoughts: "How many times now has a newspaper marvelled at you because you're an indie artist with a day job? ... They think it's a rarity!"
That a great point - my situation isn't rare at all. I'm unsigned and broke, musically. But even the signed artists I know are broke, musically. We don't do music because we expect to make money. We do it because, well, we're musicians.* (That being said, it sure would be a nice perk to make money from my music.... I wish!)
*There are many exceptions of course... Lots of people do music for real money. Pop stars, faux indie rockers, musicians who tour like maniacs to make ends meet, people in cover bands, music teachers, orchestral players... Okay. I'm in the minority.
You know what work is? CRAZY!
So naturally, I was pleased to discover that tomorrow is a holiday for us office types. I realize that it's a somber holiday, but I spent nearly every Remembrance Day of my youth freezing my arse off at the Cenotaph to sing in the children's choir.* I figure it's okay if I take the day to relax instead.
I was really, really productive this weekend. I did more cleaning and hammering and sorting and cooking than I've done in months. This was entirely due to the fact that my BH took the puppy to his parents' house for most of Saturday. At first, I missed them. I sat around a bit. I had some tea. And then I thought, motherfucker! I have the house to myself! I can blast music and hammer and vacuum and nobody will be bothered!
It was a euphoric feeling.
The whole experience made me realize that I never really get any time alone anymore. Even when my BH is out, I have a very chewy, chubby, slobbery puppy who demands my attention at all times. I never get to the point where I can really clear my mind and concentrate on something. I think this weekend was fun for all of us, because I was excited to have my boys back at the end of the day, and they were excited about how clean everything was.
My laptop appears to have been taken over by a virus. All my photos and files are backed up, but I can barely connect to the internets nowadays. I have long-term plans to replace my beloved computer, but I need it to run for another two years for my plan to work. Because that's when I'll have money.
I'm mentioning this because I have several crazy cute pictures of Morty that will have to stay hidden until I get things running again. The Sad!
*Interesting fact... I was in Vimy Ridge when they were preparing to send the body of the unknown soldier back to Ottawa. We might have even headed back on the same flight. I like to stop by the Cenotaph from time to time to say hello. After all, we met in France! What are the odds?
It's one of those rainy fall days, very much like the one that hit the weekend of the OCFF. I like it, surprisingly, and I am more than happy to camp out at the apartment while my BH studies.
We are, however, completely out of breakfast food and I am wracking my brains to think of something to eat. Our grocery shopping isn't getting done until this afternoon and I'm going to need a little something something before long. No milk and no eggs either, so baking my standards is tricky. Sigh.
Last night we went to Absolute Comedy with friends. It was fantastic! Am I just totally out of the loop to have never been there before? It's $10 admission, but then you sit down and laugh for two straight hours. I loved it. Sometimes I'm not in the mood to sit around and drink (although that is my default activity) so it's nice to have an alternative. And of course, they do serve booze if you want a little bit of both.
So I was on a bit of an Obama high the night of the election, but then I woke up to find out that Prop 8 passed. Any good feelings I had about the new President were sucked into the vacuum of California banning gay marriage. Nothing like writing discrimination into law to wreck my mood.
Off to shower and scrounge up something to eat... Hope you are all having a relaxing weekend so far!
It hasn't been long since we decided to stop going overboard on groceries, and I'm already seeing a difference. We're finishing the last of our pasta. All our veggies are gone. We finished the canned foods so we could stock up on the really useful things. We've had to get creative with a couple of meals, but honestly? It's great. Maybe next I'll tackle the freezer.
Yesterday I had my first appointment with my new doctor. Technically she's a nurse practitioner, but there's not a great leap between the two, so I'm thrilled. She improved on my old crazy doctor in a variety of ways:
She didn't make me wait two hours even though I had an appointment.
She didn't tell me I had multiple sclerosis when I actually had a compressed nerve.
She didn't make me feel guilty for needing a massage prescription (she actually encouraged me to get it!).
She didn't behave like a giant asshole.
All great improvements! I'm so happy! Just think... Next time I'm feeling really sick, I'll be able to see my regular health professional about it and not dread the appointment. So cool.
Speaking of catching a bug... I am really looking forward to Christmas. REALLY. And I'm mostly Jewish. But my favourite Christmas book just arrived in the mail and I'm getting nostalgic just flipping through the pages. I'm going to try and take care of all the seasonal things as best I can, because my BH will be in final exams and won't be in the mood to be festive. Morty will love Christmas because he'll get to eat all the food I drop in the floor. And let's face it... I'm a klutz! He'll be well fed.
I have no graceful way to end this post. Um.
Sigh of relief.
I was planning to write about how I totally freaked out Mae last night by gushing about her blog and, um, toys in a random pub while we were watching the election results trickle in. Except that I didn't really identify who I was. Like a psycho.
But she doesn't seem to be too scarred by the incident, so I'm pleased. I have a tendency to speak with my "inside voice" when I'm around new people and let's just say not everyone is down with that. My smiley demeanor has confused many people who made the mistake of talking to me. And then I'm like, "BALLS."
It's actually been one of those weeks where everything that comes out of my mouth sounds idiotic. It sucks. I try to say something constructive and instead I come off sounding like a douchebag. I should probably just stop talking until it's over.
As you can tell, this will not be a good year for NaBloPoMo. I had the best intentions, but this month is already trying to kill me and I will probably keep skipping the odd blogging day. I'll be frequent though, I can promise that much.
I'm still fantasizing about tattooing my arms and chopping off my hair. It has taken over my mind. Good thing I can't afford to give in.
Did y'all watch Obama's speech last night? Fucking YES. And you know what's crazy about all this? The new First Lady has heard my music and liked it.
NaBloPoMo has begun, and I am already behind! LAMENESS!
I'll try to do it again this year. Last year it was fun and not even that tough... But I wasn't as busy last year as I am now. The excuses have already begun.
Perhaps I shouldn't even be posting right now. I have a headache that is threatening to turn into a migraine, and it's my fault I've got it. Y'see, I don't eat cheap candy and chocolate. It means instant pain, and I've learned to stay away. On Halloween, I even bought natural chocolate sweets so I would have something to snack on. But today, I unwisely popped some cheapo chocolates into my mouth and predictably, I am hurting. My fault, completely. Silly Stella!
This month marks the beginning of our budget experiment. We're tracking all our purchases, and buying our groceries with cash. Hopefully we don't crash and burn.
I am very excited about tomorrow's election. I'm trying not to think about it too hard because Cindy McCain's creepy face keeps sliding into view. Jesus, that woman is terrifying.
Work is still a bit crazy and I find myself dreaming of the weekend. I'm usually pretty good at enjoying the moment and reminding myself to relax, but lately it's all about crossing off the days. Not fun. It doesn't help that I am constantly dodging other people's shitty moods. Really, REALLY not fun.
The plan tonight:
- roast squash
- sing new song about grey days (it's a grey day, after all)
- take a bath
- hang out with my puppy, who has been a giant cuddle bug lately
- plan out next hair cut / bleaching
- dream of large arm tattoos