Hella Stella

I seem to have hurt my hand - maybe from scrolling all day with a mouse, maybe from wrapping Morty's leash around my fingers from his walk, probably both. Either way, the timing blows, considering that I need to type extensively every day this month.

Lame.

Besides icing it and using this handy muscle relaxing cream, I will just have to ignore it and hope it goes away. A flawless plan. I can't possibly see it going wrong.

In better news, I got a card today from one of my only pen pals. I try to exchange cards with my good friends when I remember to.... But this one friend, Jude, is a real letter writing kinda gal. She and I have been writing to each other for years, and our exchanges have survived several moves (mostly on her part).

Let me tell you a few things about Jude, because she's a pretty neat lady.

- I met her at a lesbian music festival because she was stoned off her ass and looking for people to chat with.

- My friends and I once camped out in her strange old backyard that backed out onto the highway. I have always wondered who lives right on a giant highway - now I know.

- She once got in trouble at work for wearing a t-shirt that said "Dip me in honey and throw me to the lesbians." Who gets offended by these things? If someone at my work wore a shirt like that, I would love them forever.

- Her favourite things to send me are greeting cards from random charities. Once she sent me a package of cards featuring lions with rainbow manes. It was weird and cool, and very Jude.

I like getting her letters. They are always short and sweet, but so nice to read. I'm a total sucker for a nice, long, thoughtful e-mail.... But with Jude, there is really nothing like a nicely-written note.

Do any of you have pen pals? My only other pen pal was when I was in grade four or so. We all got assigned a pen pal from Italy - I think the point was to let the Italian kids practice their English, and let us practice... Well... Our English. I remember my pen pal being nice, although she once told me she got a "French-English dick for Christmas."

I guess that got lost in translation. Perhaps there are benefits to bilingual penises, but frankly, it's not a requirement of mine. (Yes yes, I know she meant dictionary. But dudes, it's pretty funny. You know it.)

Today I passed the War Museum and saw the folks on strike doing the dance from Thriller. It made me want to hug them all. Here's hoping for a resolution in their favour, sooner rather than later. It's getting cold out there.

I've been having some pretty bad hip pain lately, so I decided to get some new orthodics in case my crappy feet are aggravating things. I saw a new chiropodist, and dude, was she ever neat. She told me that the orthodics I've been using for the last couple of years are not really right for my feet, which made me see red for a minute or two. I know people make mistakes, but my experience getting my last pair of orthodics was so stupid that I'm even more annoyed with the defective final product (especially considering the sheer cost of the things, and the fact that due to an insurance blip, I wasn't covered).

At any rate. I'll have some new orthodics in December and we'll see if the throbbing pain goes away. Here's hoping.

My gig at the Elmdale is in a week, and I have neglected to do any real promotion. Today's task will be to make a Facebook event and maybe send out a little e-mail about the show. If the plan is to slow down gigging this winter, I'd better make my current gigs especially fun.

It looks like my BH won't have final exams in April. You know what that means? We might be able to make it to Japan during the cherry blossom season after all!!! I'm collecting airline sites like crazy to figure out what the damage will be. Please send along your fave cheapo travel pages if you've got them!

This post is going to be a mish-mash of what's going on in my brain - just a warning that it may not tie together all that well.

I had a big long talk with The Colombian this past weekend. He called unexpectedly from Miami, and I was thrilled to see his weird phone number on my screen. There is something about catching up with people I've known forever that just tickles me silly.

I think he is the only friend I have that can get away with being a consistently shit-awful communicator. If anyone else disappeared for months or years at a time, blowing off e-mails and phone calls repeatedly, I'd lose interest and move on to someone who gave a crap. I've quit trying to stay friends with people who don't care one way or the other. But him? The times where we do talk are so, so worth it. I've stopped feeling hurt or rejected by his lousy convo skills, because I know that underneath it all, he's still a really great friend. Funny, that. The exception to the rule.

He's coming back in November for a visit. I wonder if he'll call.... ;)

In the past, I've mentioned how my feet and legs are pretty fucked up (very flat feet, very sore knees, compressed nerves making everything numb). I'm trying different things to make my body a little less unhappy, including the massages with my fab cousin Brian, stretches, and hopefully some new orthodics. Actually, the most helpful thing I've tried was having a chiropractor stretch out my legs and feet, but it's hard to get there for an appointment.

Anyway, now I'm trying out a foam roller. My BH bought it when he was at a fitness store, and I nearly laughed him out of the house. It's like a giant pool noodle, except that it's much more rigid. CUE MORE LAUGHTER. I may have put it between my legs and galloped around the house on it. Maybe.

The exercises you can use it for are actually exactly what I need. I'm hoping that I can do them every couple of days. Unfortunately, when I tried these stretches out last night, I realized the tragic flaw of the foam roller: If you have really damaged yourself, chances are that even the easiest stretches will BURN WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND SUNS and make you scream out in pain.

As I did.

On our living room floor last night.

In my underwear, using the blasted foam roller. Screeching.

I'll keep taking it slow with the hopes that I can graduate to stretching without pain sometime in the future. I guess I've just realized that the foam roller is designed for people with normal aches. Not people with years of ouch built up in their legs.

This weekend is our trip to Toronto. On one hand I'm really excited (shopping! friends! hotel!), but overall? I'm so nervous about leaving Morty. He's staying with a neighbour of ours who loves dogs, and adores Morty. I'm sure he'll do a lovely job. But we've only been away from Morty ONCE since we got him over a year ago, and I'm feeling a little hysterical about being without him for three days.

I hope it goes well.

I really hope that I can put my mind to rest and enjoy my vacation without worrying about my puppy all weekend.

Oy veh.

I've done several things in the past few days, although I can't claim that any of them are particularly exciting.

Probably the funniest: I pulled a muscle trying to escape one of Morty's violent humping sessions. No, I really did.*

I also slid down my front steps.

Minutes later, I slid down the metal stairs near my house and erupted into giggles when I reached the bottom. I don't know why I laughed, because my brain was thinking, "Today is going to suck SO HARD."

I watched Hook, Chocolat and You've Got Mail in one night. Hook is such an awesome movie! And Phil Collins does a cameo that I only noticed now after watching it approximately a hundred times during my youth.

I re-organized my spices.

Wow, after reading this post again I realize that my life is officially boring. Maybe I'll dye my hair and get that shoulder tattoo I've been dreaming of. I obviously need to shake things up.

For those of you who want to break out of the January blues, I'll be playing a lovely mini-gig NEXT Sunday (haha, thank you Amanda... I must have hit my head sliding down those stairs). Here are the deets:

Sunday, Feb. 1, 2pmBywords Warms the Night (fundraiser for Cornerstone Women's Shelter)Swizzles Bar and Grill, 246-B Queen Street, between Bank and Kent

Perhaps I'll see you there?

* Speaking of which, Morty's getting fixed tomorrow and I'm nervous for him. He loves his balls! I feel so bad taking them away! What on earth is he going to obsessively clean now?

I'm trying not to think about it too much because it makes me sad.

So my dentist says: "Let's get rid of this infection and if it keeps coming back, I'll just remove your remaining three wisdom teeth." Then he smiled pleasantly, like he figured that would be a fun time for everyone involved.

I'm thinking I'll get rid of the infection, thanks. I love my dentist, but I don't want him yanking out three teeth because one of them is giving me trouble. The logic? She does not work.

Morty is on a pooping kick! How lovely! He refused to poo last night before bed, and by this morning he couldn't stand it any more and left a little gift next to my BH's night stand. It was an unpleasant surprise. And Morty looked soooo depressed.

Let's just say that he will be making mandatory pre-bed poos from now on. Aah, life with a puppy.

Yesterday morning I had zero things bought for Christmas. Now I have my BH, my mom, and my sister taken care of. That's not bad. Next up: in-laws, my BH's brother and sister, my Bubbi and my dad. I can manage this. I totally can.

Besides finishing up the gifts, I have a long list of things to do before the big day hits.

- Make dumplings! I know this isn't Christmas related, but I keep meaning to get it done so I'm not tempted to buy lunch.

- Get rip-roaring drunk. (It's just part of my holiday celebrations, okay?)

- Make mulled wine and Mexican egg nog.

- Assemble mincemeat and let it ferment. Consume it. Do it all again.

- Put up the tree! My BH surprised me by hooking us up with a real tree for Christmas. Considering that he's not a fan of real Christmas trees, I am super thrilled and appreciative. Now I just need to find the decorations...

- Watch both Harper's and Dion's statements on TV tonight and laugh and laugh and laugh.

- Go to my office Christmas party and avoid getting dragged on stage to sing. It happens to me every year and I am DONE people. I don't like to be the centre of attention at office functions - I prefer to hide under my desk.

- Buy winter boots and a winter coat. I technically already have both, but they didn't perform well last winter and I got tired of having wet ankles.

Whew. That's a lot of stuff. Best get started with the mulled wine thing.

Dudes, I am embarrassed to admit this, but I'm going to go ahead and say it.

The day my mouth thingy cleared up, my wisdom tooth on the other side of my mouth started coming in. And it's tearing up the gum. And it's.... Infected.

I'm going to see the dentist tomorrow. Not happy. Not happy at all. The Gods are conspiring to make sure I can't sample my own Christmas baking and that I have to gargle salt water eleventy times a day. LAME.

Moving on.

Jo was sweet enough to invite Morty and I over for some clementine consumption last night. Morty walked in her front door, checked Shy Dog's food dish for goodies, and crapped in her hallway. Awkward! He hasn't crapped in someone's house for months and months! But he looked so sad after that I knew he just misjudged the power of his own little bowels. Aw, poor guy.

My BH joined the party after I cleaned up the poo and we all had a grand time. Especially Morty who clearly thinks Shy Dog is foxy. If you catch my drift.

Since I hope to one day chew with both sides of my mouth again, I am planning out some Christmas cooking. So far I'm going to make mincemeat (without the meat, obvs), pie of all kinds, roasted garlic on everything (except the mincemeat, obvs) and braised cabbage. It's exciting! I love food!

Here's hoping the dentist doesn't yank out my tooth. That would seriously impede my holiday weight gain plans.

1. My mouth is better! Apparently it was a pretty normal mouth sore that got crazy infected, hence the pain and problems swallowing. My doctor said it would be gone within a few days and sure enough, it's gone. YAY! I was expecting something much worse than that.*

2. All this coalition talk is boggling my mind. I think I like it. Even if this whole plan faceplants, it's fun to see history happen. Nobody knows what the shit is going to happen, and that's oddly entertaining to me.

3. I cut off all my hair and dyed half my head brown, half my head platinum. Took me three minutes to do it up this morning. Most excellent.

4. Christmas is coming really, really fast. I was putting off present-buying until the next paycheque, but I think that would put me in dangerous territory. I'll have to get on that. Like, today.

5. My laptop is back from the dead. The virus had destroyed part of the registry, so it was wiped and Windows was re-installed. Startup time yesterday was 20 seconds, versus 30 minutes last week. God, I missed my laptop.

My weekend was supposed to be productive and exciting and instead I fell asleep on the couch. FOR HOURS AND HOURS. Nothing got done. This includes packing a proper lunch today, so I am going to be eating two giant carrots and four boiled beets.

Sigh.

*BY THE WAY. When rinsing with salt, I figured I would go big or go home. As in, I put in so much salt that the water nearly turned to paste. Upon hearing this, my doctor said, "Ummm, you only need a half a teaspoon per cup, not a quarter cup per cup. All that salt may have actually irritated it further." Whoops. Live and learn.

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.

Otherwise?

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.

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!

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!