Hella Stella

My BH and I slept well last night for the first time in a long time. By "slept well" I mean that I didn't wake up throughout the night, I wasn't pushed out of bed, I didn't have a bulldog sitting on my head, and I wasn't fighting for blankets. When my alarm went off in the morning, I actually woke up.

This isn't a coincidence. This happened because we finally set aside the money to buy a king-sized mattress.

We've been sharing a double bed with broken springs for many years. Before we had the dogs, we found it to be too small. When Morty came along, it became super tiny. When Frida joined us, I stopped sleeping through the night.

Until last night, I don't think I've slept through the night since April.

A king-sized mattress seems insanely large, to be honest. But as indulgent as it is, it's really the most practical size for us. While I don't move around much at night, my BH is a bit of a flailer, and the dogs don't care much for personal space. Morty in particular feels most comfortable squishing his bum against my cheek. You have no idea what sort of nightmares that causes, most of which are about gas attacks.

We've tried a queen when we stayed at a friend's house, but I was still pushed out of bed when Morty decided to stretch his legs.

King mattress it was. I say "mattress" because the frame is on back order, but dang, I'm happy to sleep without a frame when the mattress is this comfortable.

We bought the Sultan Hamnvik from Ikea. I'm not sure we could have afforded it without Ikea's prices, and honestly, the quality is excellent. If I had realized their mattresses were so inexpensive, I don't think I would have waited this long.

It will be interesting to see if anything changes now that I'm getting proper sleep. Maybe my eyes will be less puffy? One can only hope.

I also want to welcome the new commenters (and thank the old ones too!). It's always a pleasure to have a dialogue with people who read the blog. Sometimes I forget that I'm not just ranting to myself.

My brain has been so full lately that I can't get to sleep. No matter what time I crawl into bed, my thoughts run on a hamster wheel until about 2am.

It's draining me.

It gets especially bad when my BH needs to get up at 5:30am. His alarm clock usually wakes me, and then, y'know.... Three hours of sleep before I hit the office.

(A couple of folks have used the old "just wait until you have kids" line on me when I mention my drastic lack of sleep, but here's the thing: I don't have kids yet. I'd like to enjoy sleeping through the night while I still can. Two to three hours is not cool when I have to work all day.)

Not everything sucks, though....

The renovations on the apartment upstairs are nearly done. Hopefully within a week or so, the drilling will stop.

I got invited to a party where I get to dress up as a gay lumberjack.

Morty is behaving like a giant snuggly bear, and I love it. I bought him a rainbow bandana so that he is properly dressed up when Pride rolls around again.

Milan will be back soon, and when regains feeling in his butt after being stuck on a bus for ten years, I can hear all about his trip.

My BH is super awesome and took me on a hot coffee date last night. I love those.


So. that's my wee list of happy things. Even on three hours of sleep, I can appreciate them.

I know it seems that I fell off the blogging wagon after Halloween. That's because I did. Yes indeed.

I've been wanting to blog, but my day job has been kicking my ass. My manager is away and my supervisor has The Flu. That means I've got a whole lot of work to cover. I'm also preparing, albeit in chunks, for my Toronto gig in a week and a half. There's just so much to take care of! Holy brain explosion!

Once the Toronto visit is done, I've got a gig at the 4th stage, a gig in Wakefield, and a good friend's birthday. And that same weekend? The Colombian is coming to town. I'm so excited to see him that I've already started having dreams about it.

Basically, November is nuts. I love it, but I'm a little frazzled.

Anyways. I'm excited for my supervisor to come back from the depths of the Sick. I'm excited to finish my Christmas shopping. I'm excited for choir practice tonight.

And I'm excited to sleep the fuck in this weekend.

Hugs,
Stella

I officially suck at waking up on time.

I noticed a slow slide downhill over the summer... A few more late nights, sleeping in a few minutes extra each day... But now? Colossal fail on all fronts.

This is what my morning is supposed to look like:

Wake up with alarm
Take a shower
Get dressed
Take Morty out for a walk
Feed Morty
Put Morty back in bed with BH
Eat leisurely breakfast
Make a lunch
Walk to work

This is what it looks like at the moment:

Wake up 45 minutes after my alarm has gone off
Take a panicked shower, or if there's no time, throw on clothes and hope they match
Eat panicked breakfast
Decide to buy lunch
Apologize to sleepy BH because I can't take Morty out
Run out the door
Either speed-walk to work, or cave and take a bus

THIS SUCKS SO BADLY. I need to turn this around before I stop getting dressed entirely. I'm a bit of a slob at work anyhow, but I can't imagine the reception I'd get if I showed up in yellow pj pants and a torn Canadian Federation of Students shirt.

Anyway. Moving on.

Tonight I have a gig!

I think it will be very fun, mostly because I like the title: Rocking with Feminists. I don't "rock" as much anymore, having ditched the drum kit, but I'm certainly a feminist. It's at the University of Ottawa in a bar called 1848. Has anyone been there? I'm not super familiar with U of O as it is... I hope I don't get lost. Brian and I had a very speedy rehearsal for it last night. We also laid down some vocal tracks for his new album. I'm so excited for him. His songs sound AMAZING.

Actually, watching him record his album at home with his own gear has got me thinking. If I don't get any grants for a new album, I may just record the thing myself. With help from my friends who know what they are doing, obvs. At least I've worked in radio and studios long enough to have a vague idea of what buttons to press. I could bring the tracks to my old producer for finessing.

I'm also thinking about a total (music) web site makeover. New press photos, whole new design, and hopefully an eventual new album. I'll chip away at my ideas bit by bit until things come together.

Until then? I'll just try to wake up on time.

PS, Thanks for the Morty love on the video. I don't know why my floors look that clean. Maybe because Morty throws himself on them dramatically to protest the singing...

Mmmm, the week is almost done. That means I am one step closer to being able to sleep in. I can't wait. My sleep this week has been spotty at best.

Tonight is Certain Sort, Pride edition. I'll be working the door on and off, so if you're going, I'll probably see you. I believe it's very nearly sold out though; there should be a handful of tickets at the door, for those lucky few.

My goal tonight is not to over-drink. Seems pretty straightforward. Tipsy is fine, but at the last Certain Sort I mostly remember taking fuzzy pictures of myself in the bathroom. Oh, and winning that DVD of lesbian boxing porn, which actually never worked in my player. Sadness. (It will still remain my very favourite raffle prize EVER)

This next week will be dedicated to getting myself on a sturdier financial footing in preparation for the school year. I will involve a lot of numbers, but I can handle numbers in a financial planning setting. It's pretty much the only time I won't run away screaming, trying to distance myself from The Math.

I wish I had something more elaborate to report, but that's all I've got. Awesome gay partying and catching up on sleep.

Funny, but I'm not sure those things go together. Like, in the least. You concur?

I have bumped into several bloggers in my neighbourhood recently, and the consensus over Morty's ass explosion seems to be "sucks for you, but damn it was funny to read."

I can live with that. I will write about my pain if it amuses you. But luckily for me, the pills seem to be working and Morty is no longer leaking every time he sits down.

What? I'm just sayin'...

Remember yesterday when I alluded to both Morty and my BH being sleep-talkers? Sure enough, when I went to tell my BH that I was heading to bed, he sleepily shouted "PANCAKES!" and resumed snoring into the couch cushion. He has no recollection of this, but does remember Morty growling at something in his dreams.

I went to bed at 8pm last night. That means I got 11 hours of sleep. That means I feel like a fairy princess today. I wonder what life would be like if I was always this cheerful?

My BH got even more sleep than me, probably for the first time in about a year. This morning he was singing songs and cracking jokes, and I realized how drastically low sleep affects his moods. It was like I had a brand new partner standing next to me, but with the same hot bod as the one before! So excited for his degree to be done. So excited.

Only one year left.

I've had a rough time with mornings lately. I've been going to bed far too late, predictably missing my alarm when it goes off in the wee small hours.

Yesterday was especially bad. I jolted awake with twenty minutes before I had to leave the house. Throwing on whatever clothes I could find in the half light, I stumbled over to the bathroom the make myself look presentable. I flicked on the light. It was dead, and instead of taking the time to change the bulb, I put on makeup in the dark (when I got to work, I realized what a mistake that was).

I also noticed later in the day that the pants I had chosen to wear had dog food on them.

Plus, when I was leaving the house, I glanced into the front room to see that our daffodil plant had thrown itself off the shelf. There was dirt everywhere, but since I had one foot out the door, I had to leave it and call my BH in transit to tell him about the mess.

The solution to these terrible mornings is simply to prepare better the night before and get to bed early. I don't know why I can't just put that into practice.

But in more cheerful news, last night I had So! Much! Fun!

Milan and Emily invited my BH and I over for some grub. Milan said it was to thank us for teaching him how to make crispy tofu, but I think it was just a plot to one-up me. They made this elaborate arugula pesto linguine with roasted veggies, a big salad, and garlic bread. Dude, that is FAR MORE IMPRESSIVE than crispy tofu. Now we're going to have to invite them back and cook a ten-course meal to thank them properly.

I was fed a lot of wine so I *may* have done inappropriate things with avocados. Luckily Emily was all into it and we snuck off to the kitchen to carve faces into fruits and veggies. I'm... Not even kidding. Photos to come.

There's a chance I'll be out of town for a large chunk of this weekend. I will try and post that songwriting video before I leave, should I leave, so you can see one of the many reasons I stay up so late.

Who wants to sleep when you can make shaky videos on your camera?

I am dreaming of a king-sized bed.

I KNOW. They are huge, unnecessarily big, really. Why would anyone need a bed that big?

Lucky for you, I can explain.

I share my double bed with my loving partner, and occasionally my loving bulldog. My BH has enthusiastic conversations in his sleep, and often sleeps on the diagonal. ON THE DIAGONAL.

Morty has enthusiastic drooling sessions in his sleep, as well as nightmares, often kicks me in the face, and of course.... He is dramatically flatulent. Without fail, every time he lets one rip, he has conveniently positioned his butt to be facing my nose. All I hear is the dreaded "ffffftttt" sound, like air being let out of a balloon. Then it's an apocalypse for my lungs, and my eyes water.

He is also a giant, and lately I have woken up to find myself without blankets, one leg off the bed, clutching the corner just to stay on the mattress. Inevitably, Morty and my BH are comfortably snoring away in the remaining 90% of the bed.

So I started fantasizing about a king-sized bed. Not for this apartment. Maybe not even for the next one. But someday, I would like a huge bed where my sweetheart and I can sleep comfortably, along with any dogs, cats or babies that are hanging out with us at the time. I've thought about a queen, but after sleeping in one this past New Years and STILL ending up with the farty end of the stick, I'm stuck on a king.

I'm picturing a sleigh bed in black, but my taste may change over the next ten years (approximately how long it will take me to afford a king-sized bed).

Hello my dears.

It seems that, although I assumed my vacation would not get in the way of my posting, it most certainly has. Luckily, this saves you what would have been a few mundane entries about what I'm reading and when I woke up and how I like to iron my tablecloths (David Sedaris, 11:30am, often and with lots of steam).

Since tomorrow is my last day of holidays, I will hopefully hop back on the blogging wagon and make up for lost time. Although, I'll be returning to work with about a thousand e-mails waiting for me, so maybe that's a bit overly optimistic.

Meh.

I just made and ate a killer spiced carrot soup with caramelized onions, and in a perfect world, I would now bundle myself up and go meet Milan for a beer with my BH. However, my BH is asleep, and Morty is asleep on top of my BH. They are both snoring. Phone calls, hot food and poking has failed to rouse them. So I'm wondering what it's going to take, I guess. Brownies? I don't have time to make brownies....

Hopefully you are all transitioning nicely out of holiday mode. I am heading back to poke those boys awake.

The bad news is that I did NOT wake up an hour early this morning, even though I set my alarm to go off twice and had the volume turned way up.

The good news is that my morning bus ride was just fine, and I got to work at my regular time despite sleeping in.

The moral of the story is: I really want some apple pie.

A muscle under my right eye has been twitching for the past two or three weeks. I didn't want to mention it because my mouth trauma had hijacked the site. And frankly, even though I may look like a twitchy serial killer, I am too burnt out to go find out why my eye continues to spasm. Perhaps I am twitchy because I am burnt out. Or perhaps I am a serial killer.

More likely to be the burnt out thing.

Do you know what I like? I like it when someone accidentally says "The House has been pierogied" as though our Parliament was just turned into a giant doughy potato dumpling. It sounds so much more delicious than the reality. And the reality just makes me twitchy.

It seems like all the local bloggers are going to Not Your Grandma's Craft Sale. I love craft sales, and I love Ladyfest Ottawa, but I cannot go. This is because I WILL BE AT THE SPA WITH MY BH. Oops, sorry. Didn't mean to yell. I'm just a little bit excited.

My BH's Top Secret Christmas Gift came in the mail last night and I am so incredibly pleased with it. We also get our tree tonight! Jesus, I am the worst Jew ever. I've got Christmas cheer coming out my ass.

Have fun at the craft sale everyone. Hopefully my BH and I will have nice relaxing massages that have nothing to do with Indian S&M parlours.