May 28, 2013

Won’t You Please Fawn Over Me

Lilacs are the best smelling flower. We have a lilac bush in our backyard that I swear has never flowered before now because we’ve been gardening in the garden right beside it for at least 5 years now and I’ve never noticed it. And I love lilacs. Last year we noticed the ones along the side of the house for the first time and this year my baby one in the front is flowering for the first time. All 3 sets are different kinds. The ones at the side of the house are frilly and a very subtle purple. Almost white. The baby bush in the front yard is dark purple. The one in the backyard has petals (?) that are more defined and the backyard one has more scent than the ones at the side of the house.

Oh fuck it, I’ll go take pictures even though it’s crazy windy…

Okay so here’s the one in the backyard. I dunno what the little “petals” are actually called, they’re almost like little flowers themselves, but these ones are more well-defined than the others:

These ones are on the side of the house, see how they’re frillier than the one above? Also almost white, but not quite:

And this is the baby one in the front.

The ones in the backyard smell the strongest so I cut a bunch off the bush and they’re sitting on my desk. I have a fan in here that’s oscillating on the other side of the room and every few seconds it swivels toward the lilacs and blows the scent directly toward me. It’s lovely. Unfortunately cut lilacs don’t last very long or at least that’s been my experience. I’ve heard that you’re supposed to put sugar in the water, you’re supposed to cut their stems on a slant, you’re supposed to crush the ends of their stems…I didn’t do any of that because I’ve never found any of those things to actually work.

Last night we went out for dinner with Brian and I learned that sometimes when a product says it has “natural vanilla flavour” it’s actually an extract from the anal glands of beavers. I don’t know if I believe this, to be honest, but that is what I learned.

Alma’s is closed on Mondays (boooooo) so we went to Steeler’s and I got chicken fingers because you either get chicken fingers or a clubhouse sandwich at Steeler’s since that’s their best menu items and I didn’t feel like navigating a clubhouse while wearing the particular lipstick I was wearing. It’s long-lasting “14 hour” lipstick but I find that all goes to hell when you introduce any type of oil, like mayo, and I didn’t bring the lipstick with me to reapply because honestly, I’d forgotten I was wearing a face full of makeup until I saw my reflection in the window when we were going into the restaurant. Normally just bumming around Elmvale, I either don’t wear makeup at all or very little, but yesterday afternoon I was taking pictures of myself for this post because I dyed my hair “Atomic Turquoise” and of course, y’all would wanna see it.

Anyway, dinner, Steeler’s. After dinner Brian asked if we wanted to walk around the block, so we did and he and Blake talked about how they were the “last men” for many lesbians and that dancing at the gay bar is the best kind of dancing and I don’t even know what else, but what I noticed is that our town has a lot of lilac bushes which are all obviously in bloom right now. Huge bushes that have to be 60 or 70 years old. Or older. You even see them when you’re driving around in the most random places and I think “why would someone plant a lilac bush there?” I don’t think they’re naturally occurring but I could be wrong.

After we walked around the block, we ended up back at Brian’s house, which is where we parked, and we came in briefly while he got some comics that we’d lent him. We met his cats, Veronica and Beatrice, who are tiny little squirrely kitties compared to Pixel, our fatass.

Then we came home and watched Behind the Candelabra. I give it a B-. Acting was good, story was weak. There were certain things in the movie where I think they relied on the assumption that you knew about Liberace to begin with. I didn’t. I didn’t know until this movie that Liberace died of AIDS complications. He died when I was 8 and it just wasn’t on my radar. In fact, until the movie last night, I didn’t even know Liberace was alive during my lifetime. Anyway, I only watched the movie to see if Michael Douglas and Matt Damon could pull off a Brokeback Mountain and they did, it was all very natural. Granted, I have no idea how Michael Douglas’ performance was compared to the real Liberace, I just mean that I totally bought that he and Matt Damon were lovers. The best part of the movie was Rob Lowe. I dunno wtf they did to him but he/his character was amazing.

Just to get it out of the way, here’s the pics from yesterday…


I measured yesterday and my new hair that started growing back after it all started falling out when I was sick is now 8 inches long.
Also that is a terrible picture of me but I’m posting it anyway because I don’t think there are any other pics of me and Wes except for maybe when he was a baby.
I should have adjusted my f.stop so he’d be in focus but I just grabbed him as he came home from school.

The above pics were obviously taken with the good camera.
These ones were just taken with my webcam:

My roots are a liiiiiiittle green tinged because I used the bleach that came with Madison’s Splat dye rather than the stuff I usually use and the Splat bleach doesn’t bleach it super white like Garnier does.
It leaves a bit of yellow.
I didn’t think it would matter that much but it did!

Oh well.

Yesterday I said all I was going to do was dye my hair and paint my toenails and if I succeeded at those two things then it was a productive day. Mission accomplished.

Tomorrow I have to go see my shrink. As per usual I don’t really know what to talk to her about. I’m going to ask her if Rick’s back yet. He went on leave “for personal reasons” in Feb. or March and they said he’d be gone 6 weeks so he should be back. I didn’t want to get started with another caseworker unless I knew he wasn’t coming back. Honestly now that we’re moving, I don’t even know if I want a caseworker at all because it just seems so pointless if I’m going to be starting from scratch in a new area after we move. Part of the reason I stopped driving was because I didn’t know any of the roads or where anything was and now I know a little bit so that’s why I tried driving again, but when we move it’s going to be the same thing as when we moved here, I won’t know the roads or where anything is.

Also I’m not so much sold on Beaverton anymore. I don’t think the grocery store there is 24 hours, which is a big thing for me, and my mom and John are complaining constantly that nothing’s open past 5pm, not even most of the restaurants. It does have a movie theatre but with only 1 screen and I think it only shows one movie at a time. About the only thing it has going for it is that my mom’s there, I like the school district and it has pretty houses. This is the one we’re looking at right now. Or hoping to look at. I think our real estate agent is getting sick of showing us houses when our house isn’t ready to sell yet. Blake touched up the paint in the kitchen this weekend and we’ve contacted another contractor about redoing the bathroom since the one who came out to see the bathroom doesn’t like to reply to e-mails and is pretty much a write-off.

Anyway, that’s all I can think of to write about and Wes is going to be home from school soon so I guess I’ll just stop writing now! BYE!

PS. Blake and Madison are $180 short of their fundraising goal for the Canadian Cancer Society’s Relay For Life! Click here to sponsor them!

May 23, 2013

Come On Just Let’s Go

“Agoraphobe” is not a word. I’m not really sure why but it’s not in the dictionary and I’ve never heard a mental health professional use it. Also did you know that it’s NOT pronounced a-gore-a-pho-bee-ah? It’s actually pronounced aggro-pho-bee-ah, go figure, but I’ve literally only heard my shrink and dictionary pronunciation guides say it that way. In movies and on TV they always say it THE WAY IT FUCKING MAKES SENSE TO.

Right now it’s 2:25pm. I don’t know what time it’ll be by the time you read this but right now it’s 2:25pm and I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to leave the house since about 11am. Initially the plan was to walk into town at noon to go to Alma’s Cafe and have fries and gravy for lunch. The walk would have taken me about 10 minutes. Maybe 12. Not 15. I have $22 in my bank account but I can’t use my bank card because Madison lost it so I’d have to put fries and gravy and a pop – about $6.50 with tip, I’m guessing (but I’m bad at guessing these things) – on Visa.

I’m trying to think of a good analogy for my thought process on days like today but I can’t really think of one. Maybe you can if I explain it well enough.

The idea always seems so simple.

1. Walk into town. (Issue: construction workers everywhere.)

2. Go to Alma’s where I’ve been 50 times. (Easy peasy.)

3. Order fries and gravy which I’ve had there probably half of those times. (Difficulty level depends on who’s there and who’s working.)

4. Eat. (Not an issue. Used to be an issue; I used to be scared that people were watching me eat and thinking that someone as fat as me shouldn’t be eating whatever it is I’m eating. Now there are no fucks to give. Hoes gotta eat too.[Bonus points if you get that reference.])

5. Pay. (Big issue. Who pays for fries and gravy with a credit card? It’s almost literally the cheapest thing on the menu. They’re going to think I can’t afford to eat. And the tip. What if I don’t put in enough? What if I put in too much? Less of a deal, obviously, but then what if they expect big tips all the time?)

6. Walk home. (Issue: construction workers everywhere.)

And see this right here is why Twitter is a much better medium for me sometimes because I get instant feedback. I get an instant cheering section. I get an instant influx of troubleshooting and ideas. Now that it’s 2:43pm I’ve already decided not to go but if I’d have tweeted about my issues all day instead of doing other things, I may have gone.

Now that it’s 2:44pm, I can’t go because it’ll take me 12 minutes to walk there, 5 minutes for the waitress to come to my table after I sit down, 12 minutes to get my food, 15 minutes (?) to eat, 6 minutes to pay. That’s 50 minutes which has me exiting Alma’s at 3:35pm. The kids get out of school at 3:20pm which means I’m going to be sharing the walk home with a bunch of obnoxious grade schoolers. I think Madison gets out of school at 3:35 and it would be awesome to be able to text her and tell her to walk home with me but she has a job after school walking her art teacher’s daughter from the elementary school to the high school and she often doesn’t get to leave until 4pm because the kid wants to play or be annoying or whatever.

Anyway, let’s get back to the beginning. I started my day at 4:30am. I forget what I did between 4:30am and 5am when I started work, besides check e-mail, but since today is Thursday I only had to work until 7am so as soon as my shift was done, I went back to bed. I woke up at 8:45-ish, looked at the clock, turned over and went back to sleep. At 9:20am I heard Madison in the hallway having a fit about something which was weird because Madison should have been at school but she was home sick yesterday so maybe she stayed home again today. No, she slept in. By like, an hour and a half. And she was freaking out on the phone to her father so he could call her in late since I was sleeping. What she was really freaking out over though was her french project had to be presented today and she slept through her allotted morning computer time so she couldn’t print out her story. Blake was still driving to work so he couldn’t edit her permissions so long story short, I woke up, edited her permissions so she could print out her story, which she did but she took so long STRAIGHTENING HER ALREADY STRAIGHT HAIR which is totally what you do when you’re almost 2 HOURS late for school, that she missed french class and will have to present another day. (This probably won’t affect her mark.)

So that was my morning. Madison was out of the house by 10am and walked to school in the rain.

The rain ended around 11am and that’s when I got this fries & gravy idea stuck in my head. I wish I knew where these ideas came from because they are really fucking stressful and I’ve already had a really really terrible mental health week.

So I have to psych myself up for leaving the house by myself (and other times with other people, but not as often and not to the same extent) so my gameplan was to wash my hair and give myself an hour to work up the courage to first get dressed and pack my bag and then walk past all those construction workers. I wasn’t completely committed to this plan though, which is why I did not take any clonazepam/klonopin. I probably should have because that’s what it’s there for. I don’t know why I didn’t. I think I was afraid of wasting it by taking some and then not going, especially when I feel like the stuff is becoming less and less effective.

I went into the bathroom and peed and in doing so I spotted the empty box of hair dye that Madison left open on the counter. After peeing, I went to pick up the box to recycle it and that’s when I realized it wasn’t empty. Splat dye comes with bleach AND dye but Madison hated the bleaching process when we did it the first two times to lighten her hair enough to take the turquoise dye so much that she refuses to ever bleach her hair again. Since then  we’ve bought 4 boxes of Splat dye where the bleach wasn’t used. So I started looking at my roots in the mirror, made worse by the fact that I hadn’t washed my hair in a while, and decided that bleaching my hair would be a wonderful way to pass the time since I had to wash my hair either way and by not bleaching it today, I was only prolonging my awful combination of about 3/4 of an inch of ash blonde roots, then light pink that faded down the length of my hair to pure white (which actually looks really cool when the effect first starts but looks like hell after about a month) by at least 3 days.

I slapped on the bleach, set a timer and internetted while also going through the steps of leaving the house over and over in my head. I knew that once I was dressed and I was standing on the sidewalk I wouldn’t turn back, but it’s getting on the sidewalk that’s the main problem. Once I’m to the park a block from my house, my anxiety goes from 100% to a manageable 60% and that’s when I’d usually pop 2 Ativan under my tongue to bring it down further.

When my hair was ready to rinse, it was about 11:45am and I was starting to panic because my self-imposed deadline was only 15 minutes away and because my hair was wet (and I have a hair dryer, I just don’t use it for hair because my hair’s damaged enough), I wouldn’t be able to leave. But if I’m being completely honest, that was probably an excuse. The truth is that I bleached my hair to begin with to set up this situation. If I’d have just washed my hair, my hair would have been mostly dry by noon and I wouldn’t have had an excuse not to leave. I sabotage myself like this all the time and it’s like I have two people inside me, one who wants to go and one who doesn’t want to go and the asshole one is constantly being an asshole to ruin the other guy’s good time. It’s not like a CONSCIOUSLY thought “hey if I bleach my hair at 11am I won’t be able to go by noon”, this shit just happens.

So I was upset that I wouldn’t be able to leave by noon which causes more stress because now you’re a FAILURE.

I sat here and cried a little bit and then started the “it’s not too late to go” line of thinking (oh sure, NOW I take the clonazepam because writing this post is stressing me the fuck out). So I extended by deadline to 1pm. If I left by 1pm I would be home by 2:05pm, roughly. Hell, I could leave as late as 2:15pm and be well home by the time the kids even got out of school.

But that saboteur in my brain started working on me pretty hard, which you only really realize in hindsight, and I decided that my simple idea needed to be expanded upon. I decided that maybe I’d see if Brian wanted to go get fries & gravy too.

Maybe you already see why this was probably the worst thought I could have had today…

Brian is a new friend who I don’t really know all that well but I thought that since I didn’t get that sick feeling in my stomach when I was alone with him for 5 minutes, maybe I could be alone with him for 20 minutes. And get fries & gravy, which, is not without precedent. Last week Brian – who is a cartoonist – had a table set up at Jack’s On Queen, the comic book shop in town, and was drawing comics there so Blake and I went in to see how he was doing. It was the end of the day so I proposed that we go across the street to Alma’s for fries & gravy. So we did and we had a lovely time.

Anyway, I took my simple plan, best illustrated with a straight piece of string, and turned it into a cat’s cradle.

The plan now was more like this:

1. Contact Brian and see if he’d want to go. (Anxiety 110% because I don’t think I’ve ever asked anyone but my own family to do anything with me ever. I don’t have friendS, plural, I have like, A friend (hi Alex! Okay Ronny & Deanna too) and I’ve never asked her to do anything with me without Blake. Also I’ve known her for 8 years so you can’t even compare her to Brian. I haven’t had a friend who lived in the same town as me since high school. Rejection wouldn’t have bothered me, then I just go back to my simple plan. But what happens if he can’t leave for an hour or whatever and that wrecks my whole window of opportunity? I can’t really be like “hey do you want to do this thing?” and then be like, “nope, sorry, can’t. Crazy.”)

2. If he wanted to go, walk to Brian’s house. (Issue: construction workers everywhere. Possible complication: what if he’s not ready?)

3. Talk about random stuff on the way to Alma’s. (But what? Is it rude to ask someone what meds they’re on? I mean that completely seriously.)

4. Go to Alma’s. (Easy.)

5. Order. (Harder in front of a stranger.)

6. Talk about random stuff while we wait for our food. (But what?)

7. Eat. (Now an issue because now I’m not only eating in front of a stranger but I have to also keep talking to them and what happens if he finishes first because I’m a slow eater? Or what happens if I finish first?)

8. Pay. (Still a big issue for all the same reasons, amplified by the fact that now there will be TWO people watching me use the debit machine/putting fries & gravy on Visa.)

9. Walk Brian home. (And what if we run out of things to talk about?)

10. Walk to my house. (Construction workers.)

 

I am SO raw. I am a very very raw person. What I mean by that is that my moods and emotions are always just below the surface and they are fierce in either direction. It is SO easy to make me cry. I’m convinced most of the time that even the people who claim to like me probably really hate me. Even my body is sensitive. I wear hoodies in the summer so there’s more insulation between me and the rest of the world because certain textures will make me want to crawl out of my skin. I avoid socks like the plague because I haaaaaaaaaaaate how they feel. (Although I have THE BEST pair of knit socks an LJ friend made me a few years ago that I love in the winter.)

Anyway, I’m losing focus here because Wes just came home…I just feel like I need to take so many classes to learn how to do simple things. No one laughs when you’ve been in an accident and need physical therapy to learn how to walk again but people sure think you’re weak and pathetic if you have to go to therapy to learn how to function in society.

I basically tortured myself all day and now I feel like an absolute failure. I suppose I could try again tomorrow. And at least this time I’d be starting with clean hair. I guess we’ll see what happens.

May 22, 2013

Madison’s Pepper Plants

Last post for today so before I go any further….

Blake and Madison are raising funds for the Canadian Cancer Society’s Relay For Life, along with their friend Charissa and they could sure use some donations, or, if you happen to work at Telus Barrie, they could also use some team members. The relay is on June 7th from 7pm-7am and someone from the team has to keep moving the entire time, which could be pretty difficult with only 3 team members. My mom and her friend are thinking of joining the team. ANyway, you can donate here and it would be greatly appreciated!

The rest of this post is about Madison’s pepper garden. Madison is obsessed with peppers. Like bell peppers. She thinks they are the greatest thing since sliced bread. So in March, she decided to spend some of her allowance on pepper seeds and she started some plants on the window sill. Since this last weekend was May Two-Four, when it’s traditionally safe to plant, Madison put her seedlings in the ground and I took pictures. Nothing spectacular. I did get a couple of cute pictures of Hoover though.

Posted at 1:23 pm in: Canada , Charity , Food , Gardening , Kids , Life , Madison , May 24 , Misc. , Spring , Sunnyland

Snaaaaaaaaake Snaaaaake Ooooooh It’s a Snake!

This big guy was hanging out in my garden on the weekend.

We learned the fastest way to get a dozen kids on your front lawn is for one of them to yell “SNAKE!”
Then they all flock.

The snake was taken across the road to the park where it was put down the twirly slide once and let go in the field.

Here’s a closer crop of its head:

Posted at 12:57 pm in: Animals , Gardening , Kids , Madison , Spring , Sunnyland , Wes

Babble.

Being sick changed me forever. I’m scarred. I have a bulging belly because they couldn’t fit all my guts back where they were supposed to go. It changed my face. It aged me. I can’t explain what it’s like to have to fight for your life from within your own mind because that’s what it felt like when I was in the coma. I never heard a word about the possibility of me dying. I don’t remember them asking me if I wanted to sign the “do not resuscitate” order which Blake was terrified I’d sign (I didn’t). I knew I was in big trouble though. I had a breathing tube. I remember the breathing tube. I remember the feeding tube.

I was reading about the hunger strike that’s happening at Guantanamo Bay (which you should read about too because it’s pretty crazy) where they’re force feeding the striking prisoners by strapping them to a chair 2 or 3 times a day and forcing a feeding tube up their nose and down into their stomach and they’re force feeding them. I ripped out my feeding tube at least twice that I remember. The first time was when I first woke up from the coma and was freaking out because I didn’t know where I was or what was happening and I accidentally pulled the tube out. And it really fucking hurt. Burned. Made my eyes water. And then they had to put it back in and that hurt even more and it made me gag and cry and even pray (I’m an atheist so I don’t understand that one either). The second time they had me on so many drugs that I was hallucinating and I hallucinated a monkey came and pulled out the feeding tube and then bit my nose. And they had to put the tube back through my nose, down my throat and into my stomach and I cried some more. When my mom and Blake came to visit that day I had the feeding tube taped into my nose with a band aid and they asked me what happened so I told them a monkey bit it. A Telus monkey. Y’know, to be precise.

When they feed you through a feeding tube, they literally stand on a stool with a funnel and pour liquid and what sounded/felt like crushed up pills and it’s cold. Then the crushed up pills or whatever would get stuck on the tube so they’d be squeezing it to try and make the clog smaller and feeding me was this awful half hour production 3+ times a day that I hated and really frustrated the nurses.

Lately stuff like that is coming back to me. I’d forgotten most of it. My shrink says my mind would only let me remember if I could handle it and I am handling it but it’s difficult.

So that’s pretty much constantly on my mind.

I can’t paint because there’s no room in here to make anything new and Blake wants to put most of my stuff in storage so we have a better shot at selling our house (my entire office is pretty much clutter to the naked eye, but to the trained eye, it is perfectly organized). Putting my stuff in storage is really fucking with me. Part of the reason I don’t leave the house is because I can’t take all my stuff with me. I carry a huge bag full of all kinds of essentials whenever I leave the house because you never know what you might need. But like, putting my art stuff in storage….what if I get inspired to paint? I guess I won’t put my sketchbook in storage. At least then I won’t lose the ideas completely, just the motivation.

I’m terrified of moving. I just got used to living here and now we have to go somewhere else. Well, we don’t “have” to but our house is too small for the 7 of us, if you include the pets. I need a room alone just for my books that are on shelves everywhere, piled two or three books deep.

The school system in this county is abysmal. I bet half the graduates of Elmvale’s high school don’t even know what that word means and I’m not saying that to be mean, I’m saying that to be truthful. I know I talked about this “somewhere” but I forget if it was on Facebook or Live Journal or Camwhores but Wes is in grade 4 and he’s never been asked to read a book. He’s never done a book report. They don’t read in class. Honestly I don’t even know what they do. Madison’s in grade 9. Just this year she was asked to read To Kill a Mockingbird (which she loved) and to choose a book for her independent study unit. She chose The Bloggess’ book Let’s Pretend This Never Happened (which she also loved but was horrified when I said she should e-mail Jenny and tell her). So in 11 years of schooling, Madison’s been assigned to read 2 books. Don’t you think that’s a little fucked up? They ask them to do all kinds of creative writing but how can you write WELL if you don’t also read? There’s more, but basically the two schools in this town work in tandem to create McEmployees and we want better for our kids. The high school they’d be going to where we want to move is pretty good.

I’m nervous about living in the same town as my mom. I love my mom and my mom loves me but she doesn’t understand me or my life. She doesn’t understand that I don’t answer the phone most of the time even when I know who it is. She doesn’t understand that sometimes, because of the chemicals in my brain, I go for weeks without seeing anyone but my immediate family. I hate surprises. I don’t answer the door unless I know who it is in advance so surprises are not a good thing. I can just see my mom trying to “fix” me and then getting mad at me when her efforts fail, like it’s something I can control. She sort of understands that I have a disease but she doesn’t understand the disease or in my case, the cluster of disease and disorder.

I’m just learning how to leave the house by myself. I’m just learning how to drive again. Moving means starting all over. I’m also scared about losing my shrink. I really love my shrink. We’ll be moving outside of her area so I’ll have to find another one and I’m scared I won’t be able to find one as brilliant as her. I don’t think there’s a fancy mental health centre near where we’re moving. Not like the one near us now. The next biggest town I can think of in that area is bigger than Midland so their mental health centre won’t be as small and personal with all the resources I have now. Of course this is all assumption but my mental health centre is the gold standard and I am absolutely terrified of having to start over. This could literally set me back years. The good news is that I can probably go back to my old family doctor, the bad news is that he’ll probably be retiring soon.

Also my doctor here, the hospital here, the pharmacy here; they all know me. They know why (usually) I’m at the hospital. The pharmacy talks to my doctors more than I do. Getting a pharmacy to request a new rx of hydromorph contin via FAX to a doctor who’s only met me maybe 10 times but my chart’s pretty thorough because I *say* I’m having a pancreatic attack (which I was and do, but I could just as easily be a drug seeker) is next to unheard of. That’s MORPHINE! So I dunno what I’m going to have to do to get all our ducks in a row for the care and maintenance of me. And I’m scared.

I’m also scared our dogs will get out of a strange yard they don’t know and we don’t know and get hit by a car or lost because they don’t know where they live. I’m not so much worried about Lucky in this respect because of that time….ugh I’ll just tell the story again for any new people. My shrink when I first met her, suggested I get a “support animal” to help me get out of the house more. A dog I could walk and I could train to sense when I was about to have a panic attack etc etc etc mental health support animals are a real thing. So I sell a painting for $250 which was exactly enough, almost to the penny, to get Lucky from the SPCA with all of his shots up to date and neutered. The only issue with him was that he had/has anxiety separation but since I’m home all day, that shouldn’t be so much of a problem.

So we got him on a Saturday and that Monday I walked him to the grocery store, tied him up outside on the cart corral and went inside to buy him Milkbones. So I did. And when I came out he was gone, he’d slipped his collar. So I freak out completely, call Blake, Blake says he’s on his way home. I’m having an absolute meltdown but what choice did I have so I started walking home and calling Lucky the whole way. I get to just before our driveway and something catches my eye. I see Lucky looking at me from BEHIND our gate to the backyard. Not only did he run home, but he got into the yard and to this day we still don’t know how he did that.

So I’m not so much worried about Lucky getting lost if they don’t go very far, I’m worried about them getting separated because they’re both very curious and Lucky will follow Hoover but not the other way around so then both of might get lost without even each other. :o(

And as much as I loathe the school system here, it really makes me sad that we’ll be splitting Wes up from the girl he’s claimed since Junior Kindergarten that he was going to marry.

I really really don’t want to move, I don’t want the hassle, the disruption, the chaos, the bullshit, but we really really really have to.

So that’s what’s on my mind. Being sick. The ramifications of being sick and practically kissing death. Moving. I see my shrink tomorrow I think.

PS. At the beginning of this month I passed the 2 year milestone of being a non-smoker.

PPS. I kinda hit another milestone at the beginning of this month. It was a nice evening and Brian said it was good for sitting on porches and playing guitars. So Blake and I went to Brian’s house and Brian said to Blake, “where’s your guitar?” and Blake, not thinking he was serious, didn’t bring his. So I stayed and sat on Brian’s porch while Blake went home to get him guitar. This is a milestone in that I have not been alone with another person who I’m not related to in a VERY long time. I have a fear of one-on-one interaction with just about everyone who’s never been to my house. And there’s still certain people who have been to my house who I wouldn’t want to be alone with. I won’t even be alone with my own support worker or shrink. But Brian is just so non-threatening that it was pretty much a non-issue. I don’t think I could like, go out for lunch with Brian by myself at this point but I was alone with him for about 10 minutes and nothing bad happened so that was good. Here’s a video from that night. Sorry about the vertical video, that’s just how my phone does it:

Purple Haze

So we did Madison’s hair that royal blue (or as she calls it “Spiderman blue”) like maybe a little over a month ago? Maybe 6 weeks ago? She hated it and it faded into a light violet colour with streaks of light blue, which I personally liked but Madison didn’t, so for her birthday, she got 2 bottles of pink dye and here are the before and after pictures:

And now the after…

I forget why she was pouting.

She turned 15 last Thursday.
This was her ice cream cake:

She and her friends made sushi for dinner.

Wes hung streamers all over the house like a maze and he made Madison birthday breakfast.

So that’s it for this round of pictures. I have two more picture posts to do today and then maybe I’ll do a real post. We’ll see.

Posted at 10:19 am in: Art , Beauty , Food , hair , Kids , Life , Madison , Photography , Spring , Sunnyland , Wes

Sound Advice From a Duck

Posted at 8:21 am in: Animals , memes , Misc. , Spring

A Paradox Wrapped in a Kumquat

I don’t read other people’s blogs, for the most part. I don’t really understand why people read blogs, honestly. I skim my Live Journal friends list every few days when I’m bored but those are my friends for the most part and even then, the list has become cumbersome so I can never get through the whole thing in one sitting. People sometimes e-mail me and say that they’ve been reading for over 10 years etc. and I keep thinking “why?” Sometimes I ask them but they don’t ever really seem to know either.

I know why I write this thing though. I have this weird tic, this weird idiosyncrasy, where I have to document everything around me. Andre, my last photography teacher, asked me why I shoot and it took me awhile but it’s so I can document a moment. I can freeze time. Those flowers my grama told me to buy myself? They’re pretty much dead now but they live on in these pictures:

As they decay, they turn purple.

When I started taking my photography class in the fall, a friend told me I could freeze raindrops so that’s what I tried to use yesterday…unsuccessfully. The pictures are pretty unspectacular but I’ll show them to you anyway…

ISO 200, f/2.8, 1/50th of a second
Not very impressive.

This one looks better on my big screen but it’s still pretty blah.
f/1.4, ISO 100, 1/249 sec

f/1.4, ISO 100, 1/249

f/1.4, ISO 100, 1/499 sec
You can see the rain hitting the pavement but I still don’t see individual drops.

Same settings.

f/1.4, ISO 100, 1/999 sec

So I showed Blake and he told me that I should have raised my ISO to make my shutter speed faster. It’s supposed to rain again all day today so I’ll try again. Sucks that I couldn’t do it by myself yesterday when we were having crazy storms. I should know how to do this by now.

I’m sorry I just don’t have it in me to write anything else. I’m not doing okay these days.

May 19, 2013

Black Sheep Come Home

So the other day in the car I started telling Blake about my friend Brett, Canadian, who recently moved to NYC, who also recently realized that or rather it was pointed out to him that Canadians and Americans say things differently depending on where you’re from. And so on Facebook, we had this discussion about it where I attempted to explain these differences phonetically which is funny because I suuuuuck at that and so that was a few weeks ago. But I was just telling Blake about that and this went through my head…

….save the draw-ma for your maw-ma – holy shit it rhymes! That is so funny! I’d only ever seen it in writing! And so I burst out laughing and Blake’s like “dude, wtf?” so between fits of laughter I tried to explain all of the above to him about Brett in NYC and that because we say “drama” so it rhymes with “grama” or “gamma” and that I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD EVERYTHING (no, a joke from like what, you guys, 1999? I know it’s an American joke. I know it’s old. Yes I can read and yes it’s quite possible that I am mentally retarded).

So yeah. That happened and it was funny and I hope it translated even a little bit to text.

~*———————————————LATER————————————————-*~

See this is my problem in life, one of my many flaws; I am prone to laughing out loud at inappropriate times having absolutely nothing to do with my surroundings. One of the many reasons I have a trouble being out in public.  :o/

So I’m pretty sure I’m not going to do the studio tour. Especially because I don’t even have a studio and if we want to sell this house, we’re going to have to put a lot of my art supplies into boxes and into storage so I won’t be able to paint and I think it’ll be really awkward sharing space with another artist I don’t know. Or barely know. So yeah, I’m going to maybe talk to Brian about how last year was before I make my final decision, but I don’t think I’m there yet mentally. I’ll still promote the tour when I’m set up at the township office in August though but I won’t be going to SGAA meetings anymore either because there’s really no point if I’m not in the tour.

That’s that.

Today Blake is mowing the lawn or rather doing the first mowing. It’s pretty high so he did it once with the blade higher and then Madison will go over it later in the week with a lower blade. He feels all manly because he gave the lawnmower a tune up all by himself (with maybe the help of the internet). And now he’s inside having completed his task.

I have a thousand pictures to go through so I should probably go do that.

Posted at 2:42 pm in: Art , Blake , Canada , Creativity , Internet , Life , memes , Misc. , Photography , Quotes , SGAA , Spring
May 18, 2013

Is She Weird?

I don’t know if I can do the studio tour in the fall.

For starters, I don’t want to take a vacation day off of work to do more, MUCH less profitable, MUCH more stressful work.

Next is the fact that it costs $75 and if I do it I’ll have to have new business cards made up. So we’re up to $110 + I’ve lost a day’s pay…

Then there’s the fact that I’m like mentally not sure I can do this. I think it’s going to be really boring and fake. I’m not a salesperson.

My grama’s dying and I just don’t feel like painting right now.

And finally, we hopefully won’t even be living here by then.

So how do I extract myself from this situation?

Posted at 1:19 pm in: Art , Creativity , Fall , SGAA , Spring , Sunnyland

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