Big Weekend Upcoming

Lately I've been feeling very much out of control, like my life is running me, not that I'm running it. I'm very tired a lot of the time. Trying to cling to some sort of routine. There just seems to be too much to do, too many people to please. Something's gotta give soon, or I'm going to keel over. My dreams this week have been wicked. So real. So intense. Makes for exhausting sleep. Every weekend this summer I've had plans. And heading into August, I still have plans. This never happens. I want a weekend to just stay home alone and watch movies. To turn off the phone, curl up in my jammies on the futon and drink wine and eat dark chocolate. I'm actually looking forward to fall and winter, to a slower pace, to a steadier routine. I feel like I've been running flat out since the middle of March. Oh well, I pound back another energy drink and get ready to go to the gym. I'm enjoying the gym. The gym seems to help.

This weekend is the annual Coughlan family reunion. There may not be as many people as in previous years. Rain in the forecast. A lot going on elsewhere including the Eagles concert in Moncton and racing in Chatham. But I'm going. I'm actually looking forward to it and don't care if nobody goes. I'm hoping to relax. To just chill out. Of course it's more likely that I will turn into party animal person, stay up too late, get up too early, eat too little, need two days to recover, but still I have the hope of rest and relaxation. I think I'll make some jerk chicken nachos to take with me. They were a hit with some last year. Too spicy for others.

Mood: tired
Drinking: sobe
Listening To: thunder
Hair: ponies

Onward

The days are rolling by with me barely hanging on in the whirlwind. No time for blogging, still. And stuff has been going on. Lots and lots of stuff. Interesting stuff and boring stuff. But I'm not going to tell you any of it! And some of it, I know, you'd really like to know. Maybe later, in another life, when we are cats.

Left yesterday morning around 6 on 2 hours sleep and headed to Grand Falls for a seminar on the Law of Attraction. Did not return until nearly 9pm. Worked til nearly midnight. Slept very late today. Feeling much better. Crunch week at BnM. Looking forward to the weekend when I have a date! Yes, a real one, and no, that's all I'm saying about that, details under wraps for now. Also thinking some friends might be coming in from Toronto. As yet, unconfirmed. But that could be a lot of fun.

Mood: tornado in the brain
Drinking: coffee, black, organic
Listening To: crows cawing and another bird sounding oddly like a rooster
Hair: needing a little tlc

Meme Again

I got this from Wandering Coyote.

I am: fabulous!

I think: life is awesome

I know: a positive attitude is essential

I have: wonderful friends and family

I wish: I didn't need sleep

I hate: procrastinating

I miss: my dog

I fear: losing the people i love

I hear: birds chirping, old guy grumbling downstairs

I smell: coffee brewing

I crave: intimacy

I search: for a better understanding of myself

I wonder: about everything

I regret: nothing

I love: good books, fine wine, hot 'n spicy food

I ache: when the humidity is high

I am not: perfect

I believe: in myself

I dance: around my apartment while i do housework

I sing: when i'm alone

I cry: when i see cruelty

I fight: for what i believe in

I win: sometimes

I lose: sometimes

I never: travelled to europe

I always: wanted to go to ireland and italy

I confuse: others sometimes

I listen: to rock music

I can usually be found: at home in front of the computer

I am scared: of spiders and snakes

I need: protein

I am happy about: my life

I imagine: my life will only get better and better

Mood: optimistic
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: sneezing
Hair: damp

Chillz

I realize I haven't been blogging much. These are busy times. Our regular blogging schedule may not commence until fall. In the meantime, I try to twitter some. It's the best I can do.

Mood: chillin' with john
Drinking: water
Listening To: msn piping in
Hair: headbanded

Been Sweltering & Busy

So we had a bit of a heatwave. My apartment was not a pleasant living/working environment for sure. I don't mind heat, but humidity is not good. A few night's this week I stayed up all night and worked rather than beat myself up about not being able to think during the day. I continued to go to the gym though, which was kinda nuts. Working out in the heat of the day during a heatwave takes some freaking dedication, let me tell you! Today is much cooler. MUCH! It's like I've moved to a completely new planet. But today I cancelled my training because I'm packing to go to Fundy. Leaving later this afternoon. And there's so much to do, that I didn't want to try and cram in a work-out too and get all stressed. I think that's okay.

I'm feeling a little ill today, sinus headache, queasy. Maybe I should check the expiry on those egg whites ... Cannot wait to be twittering from Alma!

Mood: excited, rushed
Drinking: water
Listening To: the fan
Hair: forgotten and neglected

Sticky

The humidity is high. How do I know this? My joints are swollen :( I hate that! Nevertheless I went to the gym today. Even though I have blisters on the pads of my feet the size of loonies and my head feels like it's going to pop off and my knees are locking and my fingers aching -- despite everything I walked down, trained, and walked home again. I even agreed to go walking this evening at the cove (which thankfully got cancelled!) because dammit getting into shape isn't easy and it's time to suck it up and stay on the move. But crap, this humidity sucks the big one. Honestly.

Today after I showered I just laid on the bed wet and naked for 20 minutes unwilling to move. I don't have A/C, just one fan. I keep the windows open for the breeze off the water, curtains closed to block the sun, lesser people would die in here, I'm sure of it.

My trainer remarked with surprise that he already noticed a difference in me today. I've only had four sessions. But it's true, I also notice a difference. My weight has always been pretty touchy, in that I can lose pretty quick and gain even quicker. Really, all I've done so far is walk more, drink more water, eat more frequently and go to the gym four times. I think I'll save the calorie counting for the plateau. That's the one thing everyone can count on.

Mood: tired
Drinking: nothing, need water
Listening To: a transport climbing Ledden hill
Hair: headbanded, slick, greasy, damp with sweat

Contact!

So I found a sister and my brother called me, I'm good to go! My brother and I are going to go downtown to the parade this afternoon and then to Ritchie Wharf for awhile. His girlfriend has to work until 4pm, so he's kinda on his own today too. It'll be nice to get out for a bit and take in some of the festivities. Last year I went to Blackville and didn't get to do anything around here, so this is a first.

I have to say I'm feeling really good today. Really, really, really good! Yesterday I had my third training session, upper body for the second time plus cardio. Today I'm not even really sore, which is fabulous. I walked to the session and home again, did 25 minutes on the treadmill. Stacy phoned and she was coming into town to return a movie and wanted to make the most of the trip so we went for a walk at the cove and then grocery shopping at Sobey's in Douglastown. I finished the day with 10,623 steps. I was physically tired when I dropped into bed last night. That always feels good.

I bought some good groceries, all healthy stuff. My one indulgence was hot chocolate (which totally satisfies any urge I have for something sweet) and even then I did not buy the super duper gourmet kind but rather the Compliments blue brand with 40% less calories. Spent a whopping amount of money on food though and didn't seem to come home with much. That would be the cost of buying meat. I got some t-bones, Maple Leaf prime boneless skinless chicken, and boneless skinless turkey breast. I also got some meatless burgers, just because I do love them and they can fill a protein gap at lunchtime pretty darn quick.

And now I'm off to ready for an excursion! Happy Canada Day, folks!

Mood: chipper
Drinking: coffee, black, and water
Listening To: buddy wandering around upstairs
Hair: still headbanded

Might As Well Go Eat Worms

Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, might as well go eat worms :(

A girl from Belfast who I worked with used to say this and pout when she was feeling overworked (and everyone frequently felt overworked at this place).

I've been calling my mother but she isn't answering. I keep getting the machine. I think it's much too early for her to have gone to my aunt's for Canada Day already. It's only 11am! So I call both my sisters and get voicemail. Sherry just blogged an hour ago about all this stuff she had to do before leaving including making squares for godsake, so you can't tell me that they're not home. Yes, everyone is home, and everyone is ignoring me. All I want is my brother's new cell phone number. Anybody? Anybody? HELLO! Is this thing on?!

Yeah, so then you get: Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, might as well go eat worms :(

Now you understand.

Mood: playful
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: the fan swishing air about the room
Hair: headbanded again

Summertime

You make me feel something like summertime
Top down ain't nothing but time
Radio's on and you're by my side
Feels something like summertime
Like that first slow dance and that first long kiss
There ain't nothing baby better then this
It's like a beach blanket and a bottle of wine
It feels something like summertime
Summertime
-- Bon Jovi

You know the weather so far this summer absolutely totally blows, sucks lemons big style. Nothing but rain and clouds and thunder and lightning and more rain and clouds and humidity and wind and on and on and on. Blech! BUT (and that's a big but) it honestly doesn't seem to make a freaking difference. I'm having a great summer so far! And everyone I know seems also to be having a great summer. Why is that? I can't speak for anyone else, but yesterday John Mayer blogged about this summer. And he nailed it:

My point is that whenever that someday comes, when I slide into the MRI scanner and the thing starts spinning up, spitting lasers and screaming into my ears, I may very well say to myself "I wish I had just one more of those summers."

I don't care if it rains every day all summer long, I'm going to have a great one, because I'm young and healthy and I love my life. I love my family, my friends, my work, my home, everything. Life is fabulous!

***

I had a great weekend. Saturday evening Stacy arrived at my house for a sleepover. We don't do this very often. We always say we're going to do stuff, go places, but we seldom seem to bring the plans into action. So we were excited! We went to Jungle Jim's (hadn't been in eons) and had chicken quesadillas then booted across the street to the movie theatre and the early showing of Wanted. Loved it! Go see this movie! Angelina kicks some serious ass in this one. And James McAvoy ... oh boy! He's a cutie! I really enjoyed it.

After the movie we went to the liquor store and bought some refreshments then headed back to my place to have a drink and abandon the car. We cabbed to Chatham just in time to catch the Sail Past of Lights, which was pretty disappointing at only three boats. But lots of people out and about on the Green. Water Street was blocked off for a street dance and there were vendors selling food and drinks. Echo was playing and they weren't bad. When we first arrived I thought the band might have been a John Fogerty/CCR tribute band, but they soon moved on to other types of music even the Scissor Sisters.

We travelled around there for a bit and then went to O'Donaghue's Pub. By the time we arrived, it was a little later and the place was packed with a line outside waiting to get in. Not having any other plan we decided to wait it out, and 25-30 minutes later we were in. The house band Mooseknuckle were playing. They're pretty good, entertaining. We had a good time. Lots of laughs.

Stayed til closing and made it home in one piece though in a round about "dropping off everyone and their dog first" way.

I had a hang-over Sunday morning, which I didn't really understand because I didn't seem to drink all that much (yet I did seem to be quite drunk). I guess I had one of those night's where I'm an easy drunk ... or else one of the bachelor party guys tried to eff me up by slipping me something ... nah, I was just an easy drunk. I could feel it right off the first glass of wine at Jungle Jim's.

Anyway, I was totally hung-over Sunday morning and Stacy had not put in a very good night either, so we got dressed and ventured out for breakfast. We decided to try Mike's Bar & Grill because they advertised an all-day Saturday and Sunday big breakfast special. It is a big breakfast. It comes on two plates, one with pancakes, the other with eggs, baked beans, deep fried potatoes, toast, and choice of bacon, ham or sausage (we had bacon). The pancakes were pretty tasty. My beans were ice cold. The bacon was too smoky. The potatoes were overcooked. The place was dark and dreary. The music was an all love songs all the time satellite radio station (think Jim Croce's Time in a Bottle followed by The Carpenters We've Only Just Begun). The waitress appeared to have never worked in food service before, though I'm sure she's a lovely bartender.

In other words, this is the place where people go to die. Seriously. Feeling suicidal? Not sure whether you can pull the trigger or not? Go to this place, have a drink, and by the time you leave you'll be so depressed you'll likely forget about the gun completely and just rush right out into the street in front of the next big transport truck passing by. I'm not kidding. We did not stay long. We did not eat much.

After breakfast we went to SuperValu where everyone and their dog apparently had gathered for some Sunday afternoon shopping therapy. Then Stacy dropped me off and headed home.

The black screen of death greeted me when I booted up my computer. "Oh God! Not again!" I cried. I crossed my fingers as I waited for the computer to go through it's little corruption check while I hoped the O/S would catch and start, not shut-down. Ten minutes later it started up. Whew! Narrow escape. But yeah, it might last another year or it might not start up the next time I turn it on, so I immediately took some time to get my affairs in order and backed up my work onto disc. My inbox has 0 messages currently. To be fair it only had 14 or so yesterday, but there were some important ones that would have been a bad loss. I have been doing a decent job of dealing as things arrive. Now the thing can die and I won't lose anything.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening lying on my futon draped in my fuzzy blanket and watching episodes of Mad Men and Swingtown. I really enjoyed the first season of Mad Men and can't wait for the second. I watched a few episodes of Swingtown and it seems really good too. Check them out, if you haven't.

Mood: scattered
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: me, typing
Hair: dirty

Your Time is Gonna Come

Feeling a little agitated today. I know what's got my goat. Trying to get past it, talk myself through. Doesn't always work. Sometimes only musical immersion therapy helps. So I've cranked Zeppelin.

I still remember the first time Kevin played the Houses of the Holy album for me. An actual album, vinyl. It was the late 80s. I was listening to Madonna, Cher, Cyndi Lauper, the Bangles, Fine Young Cannibals, Roxette ... and I was on a country kick because it made me feel a little closer to home to listen to Shenandoah, Clint Black, Rodney Crowell, The Judds, Ricky Scaggs, Kathy Mattea, Holly Dunn, the Desert Rose Band and of course, my mom's favourite, Alabama. I was in no musical frame of mind for Houses of the Holy. Perhaps if I had toked, but that was never my thing.

I remember sitting on the floor as the needle grooved along the record. "I don't like this," I proclaimed shortly. He was astonished, how could anyone not like Zeppelin's Houses of the Holy?! "It scares me," I continued. "It's too dark. I can't listen." He pretty much dismissed my musical tastes as being nothing more than "bubble gum" from that moment on -- we could share a love of Billy Joel, but I'd never "get" The Tragically Hip. I meant that Zeppelin was too emotionally overwhelming for me on that particular day and time, not that it was bad. I just didn't want to be melancholy, to think too deep, to be too happy, to feel too much ... because if I felt too much I would cry, and I most definitely did not want to cry in front of this man who was so perfect and godlike in my eyes.

I never bothered to correct his incorrect perception of me. I let it drop, let him think I didn't like Zeppelin. So I suppose I probably shouldn't have been surprised many years later when he didn't get my irony as I teased that Alanis Morissette's lyrics were nothing but "bubble gum." We had been separated and hadn't seen each other for a few years, but I guess I thought he knew me better. So what was supposed to be a playful personal joke hearkening back to the early days of our love, turned into a "I can't effing believe you and your high horse" lecture from a man I didn't recognize. Again, I didn't correct him. My silence confirmed his perception.

This is something I do. My sense of humour type is ironic/sarcastic. I deliver a line that is directly opposed to my personal belief, which I believe is completely obvious to anyone who knows me, and most times I think is so generally absurd as to be completely obvious to anyone who isn't some sort of religious or right-wing extremist freak.

I do it without thinking, it's an automatic reaction ... but I'll deliver this completely absurd line without flinching, without cracking a smile, as if I honestly believed what I was saying (hence the irony of the joke). And I would stop doing this all together if I could, but out of everything I do this is the thing that is the most natural and unconscious, like breathing, like sneezing ... I don't seem to be able to do anything to stop it because it happens so quick ... I have no freaking idea where it comes from.

And more often than not, although it's probably really only 25% of the time, people take me at face value, like Kevin did with Alanis. And I don't correct them. I just let them think whatever I've just said, which is the direct opposite of what I really think, is what I think. I let people's perceptions of me get skewed. And I'm not just talking strangers, colleagues, general acquaintances, I mean my best friends, my parents, my sisters, the people who are closest to me. When it happens I say nothing, and people take my silence as reinforcement.

Why do I do this? I mean with strangers and general acquaintances, it doesn't really matter one way or the other, and I really shouldn't be expecting them to understand my sense of humour anyway because they don't know me from a hole in the ground, so I get what I deserve if they think I'm arrogant or twisted. But close friends? Family? How come I never speak up and say, "I was kidding." Maybe I do sometimes, but generally, I don't. I just don't. I sit there like a ninny and generally take whatever tongue lashing they're dishing out or listen to their argument for the "other" side ... which is really the side I'm all ready on ... oi! It's complicated, I know.

As I sat quietly listening to Kevin tell me what an unimaginative uncreative non-artistic soul I must be if I couldn't see the poetry in the lyrics of Alanis, I felt like I had been slapped in the face. At one time this was the person I was closest to in the world, and yet here was proof he didn't really know me very well at all. Obviously, he didn't remember how he used to tease me about my "bubble gum" music. He didn't get that Alanis was such an amazing talent that for anyone to say otherwise was absurd and therefore, "Isn't it ironic?" By the time I came around to the point where I could speak without crying because I was so upset, it seemed too late to say, "I was kidding you freaking moron."

It hurt me on a very deep level and I never thought of him in quite the same way again. To be honest, I never really enjoyed Alanis much after that either. I always associate her with the hurt of this memory.

It's funny how such simple little things can have such an impact on our lives. I have an ironic sense of humour. A lot of people don't. A lot of people don't get the irony in my humour, or they only get it some of the time. A lot of the time it doesn't matter if people get me or not, but sometimes it does, when it's my family and close friends. Maybe I can't control the jokes, maybe they'll just spill out unannounced and unpredicted like always, but I should at least be able to speak up and say I was kidding. If I could get past the shock and hurt and "I'm all alone in the world" feelings just a tad bit quicker, I wouldn't be five minutes into a heated argument and saying, "I was kidding," would be a helluva lot easier to do. I can work on that. Maybe all it takes is setting the record straight one time and not letting people walk away with a completely ass-backward skewed view of me.

***

Years ago I was out at a party with a friend and I did it, I made an ironic joke. After an awkward silence, I was just about to fess up (because it's easier to say you're kidding if the other people are not close friends and they are silently standing there passing their judgment rather than trying to bring you around to the right way of thinking) when my friend laughed, "She's just kidding." My silence confirmed his theory, as I turned and looked into his eyes with amazement. "Wow! I think he sees me, he really sees me!"

Somewhere in the world there is a man who thinks he has known me as well as I know myself. We shared our most intimate secrets and loved each other deeply for many years. He has no doubt that I hate Led Zeppelin, The Tragically Hip and of course, Alanis Morissette. Somewhere else there is a man who knows very few of my secrets and has no idea he knew me like nobody else.

Mood: less agitated having written this
Drinking: coffee, black, water, wet
Listening To: eyes without a face, billy idol
Hair: headbanded like an 80s Olivia Newton John

A Trojan Weekend

Thanks to Wandering Coyote for bringing this to my attention. Loves it!

Well, the Canada Day celebrations begin this weekend and I might actually be going places and doing stuff. Cool. Plans are kinda coming together. Now, I need to clean my house and put my ducks in a row.

Not as sore today though I've got some inflammation happening in the neck which is both arthritis and exercise related. So far it's not excruciating and I'm not too concerned. Looking forward to going for training this afternoon. It'll be good.

Mood: having a laugh
Drinking: water
Listening To: birds
Hair: frizzy

My Life ... Wild?

Bopping to Talking Heads. Thinking of you, sir, of course.

So I started my day off right with a balanced breakfast that included an egg white omelet and only half my usual coffee intake. Set my cellphone alarm to remind me to eat something every few hours. Water bottles have been filled and chilled and I will empty them all into my belly before day's end. These nutrition things aren't so hard once I get into the swing of things, but I've been off-track since mid-April so it takes a few days.

Yesterday I had my first training session. I did 25 minutes cardio on the treadmill. I could have done more because the treadmill is my best friend, but we were just easing me in and seeing where I'm at, what speed I need to go to get my heart rate up to fat burning mode. The treadmill was easy but then we moved into strength to work my upper body muscles and this is a completely new territory where I know nothing. I've never used any of the equipment. I've not really so much as ever lifted a dumbbell. Well, you know, I have little dumbbells that I've used on my own before ... but did I have proper form, did I know what muscles I was working, did I have any freaking clue what I was doing ... no, I did not. So the strength exercises were a learning experience for sure. I'm totally out of my comfort zone there.

It was good though. We took our time, he explained things well and corrected me when I needed it. He didn't push me so much that I would dread going back, but I'm so out of shape that today I'm a little sore so I know that we worked muscles that haven't worked in awhile (maybe ever!) Tomorrow we'll do more cardio and lower body. I feel like I'm probably stronger in my lower body than upper but we'll see.

So that's it! I paid my money and I'm in, for better or for ... better! There is no such thing as worse on this subject. The only thing that could constitute worse would be if I didn't go, if I didn't commit, and that is not an option. I've made a financial investment so now I've got to make sure I get my money's worth, end of story.

Mood: psyched
Drinking: black coffee, water
Listening To: cry for love, iggy pop
Hair: entering a longish stage

Good Rockin'

It was tough growing up in rural NB with only two tv channels and no FM radio. Everything I knew about music I learned from Stan the Man on Switchback CBC Sunday morning, the New Music magazine with JD Roberts and Jeanne Beker, Good Rockin' Tonight with Terry David Mulligan and then Stu Jeffries and WNBC out of New York that would come in on the radio in my dad's car late at night when the air was clear. Big old Ford LTD, black, tan/taupe interior, possibly a 1974 or '76, two door. I'd sit out there discretely smoking until I knew my parents had gone to bed and wouldn't catch me, twisting the dial until I heard the call sign -- wNbc! That's how I saw it in my head, all lower case except the N, they always put the emphasis on the N. I'd hope the signal would last until Imus came on in the morning. I loved the promos for his show. But as the night wore into morning the static would pick up until finally the station blinked out like it never existed. God, those were simpler times! I was reminded of this when a friend told me about this 80's Music Festival happening in Saint John.



Mood: nostalgic
Drinking: hot chocolate
Listening To: my jaw snapping as i chew gum
Hair: fluffy

Briefly

It's pretty warm, humid. My head feels terrible. Heavy. Paining. I need to buy some Advil maybe. Am heading over to the Park Inn for a working lunch with my Mighty partners in crime later. A late lunch because of other meetings and things, but still, it will be lovely.

Yesterday I did something extremely uncharacteristic of me. EXTREMELY! I mean I have no idea who that girl was yesterday, cuz the Kellie I've known for 39 years would not be caught dead doing what I was doing. Here I grow again! It's uncomfortable so it must be good.

I went to a gym. Yes! Really! Me! In a gym! I didn't work out. I went for a consultation with a personal trainer. I went because I was curious and I fully expected that I would get an unpleasant vibe off the guy or the place or something and that would be the end of it and I'd go home and eat nachos and drink wine. But that didn't happen. I actually believed the guy when he said he would take my health goals on as if they were his own. I actually liked the idea that if I don't show up he's going to be calling to see where the hell I am. And after about an hour of chit chat I felt that his way of training meshed with my way of wellness and balance thinking and I committed myself to three days a week. Poof! Just like that the Kellie who doesn't believe in gyms, who thinks it's a big waste of money, who believes anything you can do in a gym you can accomplish at home with a set of weights and a yoga mat ... that girl died just enough to allow me to make a huge investment in my personal health and fitness. And I mean financial as well as time investment.

I am still in shock. Can't believe I've done this. I will have to sacrifice ... lots of stuff! ... just to pay for this. And in a way that also made sense to me, that surely if I make that huge of a financial commitment (this is the most expensive place in town, doctors wives go there for godsake, all the rich biz guys, etc.) surely if i invest all of my savings and have to scrabble every month to pay the fees, surely, surely, surely, I will not take this hit to the pocketbook lightly and I will do the work and I will get my money's worth. Right? I absolutely refuse to be one of the people who pay the membership and never go. Uh-uh! No way! If I pays my money, you can be damn sure I'm showing up.

I feel certain that this might be the only way for me. Left to my own devices I am mostly a lazy sloth. Now, I'm going to have a guy keeping an eye on me and depending on me and pushing me. Crazy! I'm still in shock. This is a whole new world for me.

Mood: adventurous
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: the fan recycling the humid air
Hair: stringy

Three Thirty Three

OMG!

Fault Lines

Something has happened. Something I haven't experienced in ... so many years I can't remember the last time. Something marvelous and inspiring and ... more ... so much more.

Wednesday, after only about five weeks of reading I finished Richard Ford's Independence Day and felt a kind of sense of accomplishment. Whenever I take time for reading not work related it's a bit of an event. I read A LOT! I read all day, every day, no time off for bad behaviour. The bulk of my living comes from reading and I work all the time.

I don't read many books for leisure in the run of a year because generally it happens right before I go to sleep and I can only get in a couple of pages or 15 minutes max before I fall dead away and usually I'm not that into the book anyway so putting it down in favour of sleep is easy. Remember The Davinci Code? That took forever to finish. I couldn't turn off the editor part of my brain that desperately wanted to whip that book into shape. I find it impossible to lose myself in a poorly written book. But turning to the classics or more skillfully written modern literature doesn't always work either. Yes, my internal editor won't nitpick the writing (though my internal writer will admire certain phrasings and techniques and note them for future use) but literature can be dense. It can require a lot of thought and effort to process. And after a long day, I'm often not up to the challenge.

So on Wednesday afternoon during lunch I finished Ford's book with a sense of accomplishment because it really hadn't taken that long to get through and even though I didn't feel particularly moved or provoked in any way I didn't feel cheated either. The experience was not unpleasant. And nine times out of ten the experience is at least a little unpleasant. I have the next novel in that series but I wasn't immediately drawn to find out what happens next, so I went to the bookcase to see what else was on tap.

And that's when I noticed Nancy Huston's Fault Lines. I purchased the book a couple of months ago at Frye Festival. She wasn't the reason I went to Frye (Russell Banks drew me). I hadn't read her, hadn't even heard of her before to my knowledge. But I noticed right away that she was the draw for many of my peers.

I attended a round table discussion in which she participated. Four authors discussing the a-ha moments of writing. I came away with the sense that she was a very opinionated and private person. She left me a little cold to be honest. She seemed ... lofty, guarded, controlled. I immediately went to the bookstore and bought another member of the panel's book. But I was still curious enough about her to attend her solo evening event.

A trio of musicians played exactly the right notes at the right time while Nancy Huston read from Fault Lines in English and French. Except this was no ordinary reading. The characters are all children and she became each of these children one after the other and it didn't matter that I couldn't understand the French parts and it didn't matter that I had a not so great opinion of the author before the event, she became the children and I was mesmerized. During the performance (because it totally wasn't a reading) she sang and danced and totally abandoned herself to become her characters. It was the most amazing literary event I've ever attended, and I've attended a lot of amazing literary events. Afterward I immediately rushed into the lobby and bought her book, having gained a new respect and awe for the woman as an artist.

Fast forward to Wednesday, bed time, picking a new book after finishing Richard Ford's novel and finding myself uninspired to immediately continue with the next in his series. My eyes slid across Nancy Huston's name in the bookshelf and instantly I was transported back to that auditorium and the most magical night of literature ever, so I plucked the novel from the herd and settled into my bed for a few minutes or pages reading. And then I got lost. Two hundred and fifty pages before I looked up and noticed the time. Really late! I hated to stop but I didn't want to stay up all night either. So I set it aside, turned out the light and tried to drift. Flash! Crack! Lightning. Thunder. And I'm up. I'll just finish to the end of the section ...

At some point I slept for a few hours and then finished the novel. Two sittings. Hours of reading at one time. Completely lost in the story. THIS never happens to me anymore! I had forgotten the joy of a good book. How it makes me want to write. How it makes me want to read more books. Well written, yet easily accessible. Brilliant! I loved it so much that as soon as I finished I wanted to start at the beginning and read it again. I didn't. I am loaning it to my mother first. When it returns I'll read it again. If you haven't already, read this book. It may be one of my favourites of all time.

I have since moved on to Russell Banks (the Frye draw) and so far that reading is going well too, more quickly than the Ford book, though I have been able to put it down and go to sleep.

Mood: inspired
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: crows fighting with seagulls over crusts of bread
Hair: uninspired

Sukie in the Graveyard

I don't need the Full Moon icon on my calendar to alert me to the fact that tomorrow is the night. Long-time readers know my sleep pattern is disrupted by the cycle and my dreams go off the charts around the full moon. Last night I went to bed relatively early (11'ish) in hopes of waking at 5:30 and taking a long walk. I read for a bit (just after midnight'ish) but couldn't get my to-do list off my mind so I took a few minutes to electronically whip it up on the cell that I'm increasingly finding more purpose in owning.

Then I drifted ... back to Toronto ... where I ran into everyone I ever knew there and several people I didn't. We went to movies, shopped, rode the streetcar, had several affairs, got into some fistfights, drank a slew of Cosmos and many bottles of Dom Perignon, attended concerts, danced in the streets with sports fans, brunched, lunched, supped, snacked, met rock stars, danced in clubs, tried on every stitch of clothing ever made as we searched for the perfect outfit, interviewed for new jobs ... and on and on and on ... until I woke at 3:30am completely worn out and crossed my fingers that in the next dream I would fly to someplace less stimulating.

Back in dreamland my prayers were semi-answered as I found myself leisurely wandering around a nearly empty antique shop. Just me and a boyfriend in this huge dusty shop housed in what once must have been a magnificent mansion. In case I haven't mentioned it, I am always aware I'm dreaming. I haven't mastered the remote control yet, but I generally know I'm in a dream. So I was surprised to see which (now ex) boyfriend my brain conjured to accompany me on this dream excursion. Surrounded by the soothing scent of old books I settled into what would surely be a more relaxing type of dream that would take me the rest of the way to 5:30 with enough rest to pull off a morning walk ... and then the rest of the bus tour passengers rushed in along with a stern efficient guide who barked, "Five minutes, folks! Quick like bunnies! We've got 250 more scheduled stops today!" My heart sank as I realized my brain wasn't done torturing me just yet, but at least I had a good companion for the trip I thought and turned to take his hand. Of course he was long gone, morphed into a more disturbing ex, the one who might poison the water in my bottle if I let it out of my sight. Lovely!

And just like that the dream turned to nightmare with me running and hiding in the huge mansion antique store as I searched for the canteen so I could buy a new bottle of water. I opened one eye at 5:30 to see rain and fog outside, feeling like I'd been clobbered by a baseball bat in my sleep, the ache of exhausting dreams mingling with arthritic inflammation brought on by the weather. I rolled over and returned to my dreams, hoping I'd find myself back in Toronto, which at least wasn't life and death frightening just exhausting. No such luck, but at least I was in line at the canteen about to buy a new bottle of water. Of course I had no money I realized as I came to the front. Somebody had stolen my purse. Lucky for me another ex was in line behind me and offered to buy me a drink. And then the canteen changed to a bar and we were laughing and flirting and playing pool ...

I didn't get up until after 10. I've drunk a pot of coffee. I feel like I pulled an all-niter. Every bone and muscle in my body is aching. This is what a full moon does to me.

Mood: foggy
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: over the hills and far away, led zeppelin
Hair: unkempt

101 in 101 Update

Briefly updated my 101 in 101 list. Want to revamp the whole thing, start fresh with things that matter to me now. Might get to that this week sometime.

My arthritis is acting up today. A little achy in the knees and fingers. A whole lotta sleepy and lazy from pain.

Went to the folks for Father's Day. Got caught up on Corrie and had a bbq. Spent some quality time with my furry beast.

Mood: tired (i know for sure because my mood ring has come back)
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: typing
Hair: stringy and needing a cut

First We Take ...

Last night's birthday celebration turned into Kellie's Pub Crawl 2008. Me, my sister (and DD), and two friends I haven't seen in awhile and always enjoy hanging out with. We started at Boston Pizza with BIG salads and desserts. And drinks (at least for me ... one Cosmo, a glass of red, and a Spanish coffee). Unfortunately the patio wasn't open but that was okay. Our waitress screwed up the bills a whopping three times which was freaking hilarious.

After dinner we crossed the bridge to Chatham and O'Donaghue's Irish Pub. There wasn't much going on there so early, and we had already eaten so we just stayed for one drink (a red wine for me) and headed back to Newcastle having made plans to return later in the month when Jake Stewart is playing there.

Two of our party had never been to the Black Horse Tavern before in the Miramichi Hotel, so we hit it up next. Two glasses of beer for $2.50. Dirty men groaning and smacking their lips at us when we crossed the floor. We played pool and laughed and danced to old songs on the jukebox. Fun times!

After our excursion into the Black Horse we went down the street to the Boulevard Pub. It seemed to be having a bit of an off night or something. The music was too loud, a big screen tv showing golf overpowered the room. I've been in there during the day before, and it definitely seems nicer during the light of day or something. Plus I made the mistake of ordering the house wine, Piat D'or (which I loathe) out of a box (which is rarely drinkable). They do have some lovely wines there, including Wolf Blass Yellow Label, so it wasn't their fault I should have ordered better. The washrooms were really nice and clean though as I took my first and only pee break of the evening causing one of our party to exclaim, "How can you drink so much and pee so little?!" It is a gift. Once upon a time though I would go the whole night without venturing into the public washroom. Just saying.

The night was getting on and we still hadn't found a crowd or anything much exciting (not counting the Black Horse experience) so we left The Boulevard seeking our last stop of the evening ending up at Jack's Oasis Pub. There was a band finishing up a set as we entered and sat at what has to be the widest table ever to find a home in a bar. We marvelled at the old man levitating across the way and I ordered a drink called a Porn Star that tasted like blue Mr. Freezies and the bartender told me was her specialty. It was pretty good but I downed it fast so we could get the hell out of there.

By then I was ready for ice cream and home, so one quick Ben and Jerry's stop later I found myself sprawled on the futon watching The Darjeeling Limited. I watched about 45 minutes before I fell asleep and woke cold and cramped at 5am when buddy upstairs finally stumbled home (without his truck again) from where ever he had been playing poker and/or getting laid. While he clumped around upstairs I made my way to the spare room and crashed for another 5 hours or so.

I can't remember the last time I pub crawled ... if ever. It was an interesting and fun way to celebrate my birthday. Thanks girls! I had a great time.

Mood: i couldn't say ... someone has stolen my mood ring
Drinking: coffee, black, perked
Listening To: lawnmowers and seagulls
Hair: approaching critical thickness

Bday Weekend Celebrations Begin

On Sunday (Father's Day) I celebrate my birthday. I was born on Father's Day so it's always fitting somehow when the dates line up again. We had planned a Sex and the City party for Saturday night to celebrate (which would have been so freaking fabulous!) but then Empire Theatres announced their weekend schedule and lo and behold the movie wasn't being held over another week. Bummer! So then the scramble started to make other plans.

As a result last night one of my sisters, a friend and myself went to see the movie, tonight my other sister, myself and hopefully some other friends are going out for pub food and cocktails. It's not exactly the weekend I had envisioned but that's okay.

The clothes and the shoes in the movie were fabulous! I love, love, loved the wardrobe! I liked the movie. I will likely buy it on dvd and definitely go see another if they make one. The Miranda/Steve storyline had me tearing up a few times. I don't want to say too much in case you haven't seen it yet, but ... the Carrie/Big storyline kind of didn't do it for me. I felt their ending was rushed and unrealistic. It felt underdeveloped or something. But this is no way ruined the fabulousness of the film for me. I loved it! Flaws and all! If it was still playing I'd go see it again tonight. I mean the shoes for godsake are worth the price of admission.

Mood: cheerful
Drinking: black coffee
Listening To: the washer spinning
Hair: bed head