completely unrelated to previous post . . .

When I was around 10 or 11 years old, I woke up one morning and I couldn't straighten one of my legs. It was stuck bent at the knee such that I couldn't walk without the help of crutches. This was completely unexplainable; there had been no trauma, no illness, nothing had happened that should make my leg seize up like this. The grown-ups started panicking. I thought it was cool to actually need crutches rather than just playing with them for once, and was a little bummed out that I didn't have a cast or anything people could sign. X-rays, ultrasounds, blood tests were done. Pediatric oncologists were consulted (there was worry I might have leukemia). Major string pulling was done by my mother. After days of this, and probably thousands of dollars spent by our health care system on diagnostics, I remembered the previous week after my swimming lessons I had slipped while dancing in the showers at the pool. The whole thing was a strained muscle. People were mad, I felt like an idiot.

The afore mentioned episode, I think, is why when my arm was gigantic and blue in September '05 the whole time I was having diagnostics done I was lying there thinking how ridiculous it all was and how I was probably wasting the systems money and time, and how someone was eventually going to figure out I had done something stupid and I was going to get in shit again. It wasn't until the vascular resident explained the size and seriousness of the blood clot in my arm that I started to feel as though I actually belonged in the hospital, and not until after I was discharged did the seriousness of what had just happened hit me.

The afore mentioned episode, I think, is also probably why even considering my history of a massive DVT and subsequent diagnosis as a thrombophaeliac, I still waited over a week to go in and see my doctor when my arm started bugging me again.

But wait! Don't judge! It wasn't blue this time! It has been slightly swollen, turning numb, feeling very cold (only a sensation on the inside, not actually cold to touch), and getting pins and needles. I showed it to my mom on Wednesday and she told me to go to my own doctor right away. I made an appointment for Friday. I got in to see her and she didn't want to be the one making any decisions about what this was, so sent me on my way but told me to keep my cell phone on cause she'd be calling my vascular surgeon and then calling me back with further instructions. She called me in the middle of grocery shopping and told me the v.s. wanted me to go in for an ultrasound, so I had to go into emergency where I would be fast tracked through via the vascular ward. So I finished my shopping and then went home and unpacked the perishables, quickly filled Paul in, and took off.

After about an hour of hanging around VGH emergency (which was FULL of crazy people, let me tell you), Dr. Baxter (henceforth referred to as D-Bax), the very nice and VERY cute vascular resident showed up and started a flurry of activity, most of which involved me following him through the hospital as he walked very quickly through all sorts of places that were supposed to be off limits to me and batted his eyes at people in various departments saying things like, "I know it's 5pm on a Friday and you're about to go home, but I've got this patient who I really need to get an ultrasound done on because of this history . . ." and whaddya know, lickety split, I was having an ultrasound done. The radiographer was a very lovely lady, and took a great deal of time taking images of the veins in my arm, chest and neck, and showing me cool pictures on the screen and letting me listen to the blood moving through my veins. After a while she left and brought the radiologist back in with her for a consult, and then D-Bax reappeared and they all got to chatting about what the heck was going on with my arm. There was one patch where there was a small vein, a brachael vein they think, which just won't compress where all of the other blood vessels around it will. This indicates the vein has something hard in it, or that the vein walls are hard for some reason. There was also some stuff they could see in the vein which indicates some clotting. The question is; is this an old clot that my body has adapted to (if you get a clot somewhere small and non essential, your body adapts by branching off new veins around it) or a the beginnings of a new acute clot. This question can only be answered with a venogram.

D-Bax is struggling to figure out what the heck to do with me. Option one: keep me in the hospital over the weekend and repeat the clot busting procedure I had last time (heck, it was fun the first time!). Option two: treat the clot with anticoagulant injections. Option three: I give myself injections over the weekend and come back on Monday for a venogram. I was voting for option three. D-Bax was asking if I was supposed to be doing anything this weekend, and informed him I was supposed to be accompanying my sweet sugar pie to Oliver on Saturday afternoon, because he has a race on Sunday morning. He sticks me back in the waiting room at emerg while he runs around and tries to figure out what the heck to do with me. Eventually he reappears with Dr. Fry in tow, who is my vascular surgeon's partner, and also an old geezer, who also knows my mom. They agree that I can leave if I get my first shot in the hospital, and if I come back first thing Monday morning for a venogram. Finally I'm on my way.

Heading to the pharmacy to fill my prescription for seven days worth of injections at the low low price of $207, and on the phone with my mom filling her in on the situation and convincing her to NOT get on the next ferry and come home from the cabin. I'll probably be fine for the weekend, but I have agreed that if anything gets worse or changes, I'll head straight back to emergency. I'll have the venogram done on Monday, and there I'm convinced they'll discover whatever stupid thing I have done, and I will get in trouble. Surely this is a waste of everyone's time and money. Surely.

remember . . .

Remember 2 summers ago when I had my bi-annual back-attack and could hardly walk and could only stand at a 45 degree angle and took in one mouthful: 2 tylenol-3's, 2 extra strength robaxacets, and 2 (illegal) vioxx (all that under the guidance of a doctor who is also my mother (who also smuggled me the illegal vioxx)) which didn't do jack for the pain, or knock me out whatsoever, and I was in the middle of teaching an NLS course which I couldn't get out of and so had to teach it in a back brace?

I was having more fun then than I am now.

death by integration

I have my first integral calculus midterm on Thursday, and it might just kill me. I am not expecting to do particularly well, mainly because I did not crack my textbook until this week. This is a habit of mine at the beginning of each semester - pretending I am still on break when clearly I am not. This is not to say I haven't done any work - my beloved tutor Muna and I got cracking on this course two weeks before it even started - It's just that I haven't done any work on my own outside of the one-and-a-half blissful hours I spend with Muna each Monday (and Saturday and Wednesday this week).

I find integral calculus (well, calculus in general) pretty meaningless. I can memorize how to do the work and go through the motions and figure shit out, but it's pretty much like a more torturous form of sudoku if you ask me. Paul claims this stuff is not only useful, but he actually uses it on a daily basis. I guess since I'm not in a field nor do I intend on ever being in a field where I'll have to use the limit definition of the integral to find the sigma of f(x) delta x as n approaches infinity, it'll continue to be Greek to me. The thing I find the most frustrating about calculus is how I can spend literally nearly an hour and pages and pages of writing one one single problem only to end up with a zero or a one as my answer. All that work for a friggen one! Give me something more profound! Although according to Paul, one is the most complete number there can be. It's why he always tells me he loves me 'one'. I love him 'one' too.

blog challenge debunked

Yep, I suck. I debunked. I quit. I threw in the towel. Wanna know why?

I had an insanely busy couple of days trying to juggle work, school, getting prepped for Paul's birthday party, throwing Paul's birthday party, recovering from Paul's birthday party (just in time for . . .), Paul's Dad's birthday party. Blogging just fell to the wayside.

I have committed to not blogging on the company dime, and have hardly touched a computer outside of work of late.

I have felt extreme rage and did not feel as though this blog was the appropriate medium for venting.

I have started another secret blog* where I can safely vent all I like, and have continued the blogging challenge on said blog without informing anyone as to it's presence or whereabouts, thus have not (in my mind) really debunked at all, rather just changed location. I'm sure this is in violation of the blog challenge rules, but really I don't give a flying fuck.

*if you can find it I'll give you $50 fo shizzle.

12/30

Grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog blog, grumble grumble grumble, blog blog BLOG!

11/30 - sorry no pics yet

The hair is cut, and I don't have any pics. It's basically just a bit shorter than it was before and with a few more layers. My regular hairdresser, who I have been seeing for the past 13 years, is on maternity leave, so I was seeing someone else, which I hate doing. This other lady also cut my hair in August and did a good job of dealing with my long/thin/curlyish hair, and I was equally satisfied with her work today. The annoying thing was this:

Super Skinny Hair Dresser: So, what are you studying?

Me: Food science. Ultimately dietetics.

SSHD: Oh, you'd be a good person to as then - what's the best way to lose weight?

Gah.

10/30 - hair today . . .

Tomorrow I am getting my hair cut. I haven't had it cut since August, so I am well overdue. I had hoped to get the cut over with while Paul was away, but life happened and I didn't. The haircut is a secret from Paul because he always totally freaks out in the days before my once or twice a year appointments - he thinks all girls should have loooooong hair, and even the teeniest trim for split end management should be outlawed. I'm not sure I'll do something dramatic, but I'm sure a small amount of change is in the air.

I'll leave you all holding your breath with anticipation for what tomorrow may bring. Pictures are promised!

9/30 - my boyfriend's back and I'm gonna get in trouble. . .

But only cause he's decided this is a 'treat week' and he's going to drag me down with him like he always does. It's so good to have him back! I woke up early this morning and saw my calculus tutor before heading to the airport to pick Paulie up. He's home, he's stoked to be back, and he brought some awesome Australian wine with him (some of which we've already been into, so apologies if the spelling isn't quite what is should be).

Arrived in the mail today was a US Triathlon mag, with an ad featuring Paul in a race he won earlier this season. It's his first spread in a mag, and I think it looks awesome! They sent us several copies, so if you know us in real life you might get so see one. If you're awesomely computer savvy and you can tell me how to get the image from an adobe file to a jpeg file so I can post it, then let me know and I will!

Back I go to enjoying my man.

8/30 - gah!

Omg, it's 11:15pm and I haven't done my post for the day. Good day today starting with a blissful sleep-in (all the day to 9am!!!), yummy whole grain french toast with organic maple syrup, visits with friends, produce shopping and other little chores. Watched the Survivor finale (guilty pleasure) and vacuumed and tidied the place up during the commercial. Paul arrives home tomorrow and will probably mess the place up within 30 seconds. What I wouldn't have to have that bike grease spreading chocolate stealing high maintenance pain in the ass home right this moment . . .

Off to bed I go!

7/30 - made it!

Long week over, and aside from a quick CPR recert tomorrow and some studying, I actually have mostly a whole day off. Amazingly in spite of the loooong days I've just had, I feel good and energetic rather than frazzled and exhausted and cranky. I think that trying to stay fueled with good for the body food and positive thoughts for the mind has made a huge difference this crazy week. Tomorrow I get to sleep in!

I can't think of anything else to say. Off to bed I go.

6/30 - long days

Today is day four in a series of five very long days involving various work and school commitments which mean I don't get home till close to or after 9pm, which sadly is bedtime for me. Today and tomorrow are going to be the longest days, with work, more work, work, and then a first aid course I'm teaching as a part of my side business, all with very little turn around time in between. Today I had planned to work through my lunch break and go home a bit early for a nap between work and going back to work for more work, but typically I ended up working through my lunch break and still staying an extra half hour. I did have a brief but very enjoyable visit with my one school friend from Langara who is also transferring to UBC, and I did manage to steal a half-hour half-nap while listening to the food network. I'm stocking up on nourishing food to get me through the next 36 hours, rather than relying on the 1/3 crust 2/3 cheese pizza I know will be waiting for me at work when I get back. I had another positive day at work, and worked through some interesting challenges while once again dazzling folks with my mad skills with the filter tank. They don't call me the queen of the filter tank for nothing!

Also putting a smile on my face is the lightening bolt I shaved into my pubic hair out of boredom the other day. I have a good giggle every time I see myself naked or go to the bathroom. You should try it. Seriously.

5/30 - happiness, in brief

Briefly again tonight, since it's waaaaaay past my bedtime (it's 9:27pm. sad, I know.) but I don't want to let those down who I've committed to these 30 posts in 30 days.

Yesterday I went to my doctor to have a conversation about stress I've been experiencing at work. I primarily wanted it to be documented, just in case for the future. The talk was much more helpful than I had hoped for, and although I have decided not to discuss work stress on this blog, I'll mention a few of the things I found to be particularly poignant;

-Not having negative discussions about work, at work. This a) brings morale down, and b) also can release negative stress hormones in your brain, both of which simply perpetuate the situation.
-Setting boundaries and leaving work at work.
-Recognizing that I am choosing to stay, and the reasons why.
-Realizing that the things I have no control over, I have no control over whether I stress about them or not, so making the choice to not stress about them.

I had such a glorious day at work today! Looking forward to the challenges tomorrow will bring. In less than eight hours. Off to bed I go . . .

4/30 - shoutin' out!

Today's post is a shout out to my sister and brother out-law, Cammy and Tim. Two of the coolest people I know, and I'm lucky enough to be able to call them my fake family. Big congrats for being almost new home owners, you lucky bastards!

Fifty word min, exactly.

Including the above statement. This explanatory line takes me over the min, and makes me feel more like a real blogger. Ahhhhhhhh.

3/30 - it's a mad mad mad mad class

I'm sitting in calculus class, first day. Somewhere to my left is someone very stinky. To my immediate right is a small girl who looks to be about 16 years old. One of those young math whizzes, I suppose. She has long scraggly hair pulled back into a pony tail, a bright colourful knit sweater, jeans about six inches too short with a cellphone stuffed in one pocket and a wallet bulging out of the other. Pink fabric disappears down the back of her jeans which I initially assume is a tucked in t-shirt, but later discover to be granny style underpants rising up armpit high. Her backpack takes up most of the space on the table we share, and she takes out a gigantic electronic pencil sharpener and an un-sharpened pencil.

The class begins and the prof begins passing out handouts. He passes them to whoever is on the outside of each bench, in my case, this Strange Little Girl (SLG). She doesn't pass them along. I, confused, ask the prof for another copy of the syllabus, to which he replies he's already handed them all out and indicates the pile next to SLG. Eventually she passes them along. He begins the lecture, discussing what this semester is going to be all about, his expectations, etc. SLG takes her pencil and pokes it into the electronic pencil sharpener. A loud WHIRRRRRRRR ensues. The prof pauses for a moment, and then continues. WHIRRRRRR. Pause. WHIRRRRRR. Pause. WHIRRRRRR.

The prof asks, "is that thing working?" "Not very well." replies SLG. The lecture continues.

"WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR," goes the pencil sharpener. "WHIRRRRR." Snickers trickle up from the back of the class (I'm in the front row, obviously). I pull a spare mechanical pencil from my case and lean over to SLG. "Why don't you borrow this one?" I ask. She takes it from me and begins to examine it, systematically dismantling it and then putting it back together. She puts it down beside her backpack and pokes her stubby pencil back into the sharpener.

WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRWHIRRRWHIRRRRRRR. The lecture continues, and the class continues to snicker. WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. WHIRRRRRRRRR.

"Does she need to borrow a pencil?" the girl to my left whispers, "I've already lent her one." I reply. WHIRRRRRR. WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

The prof looks at the class and asks, "am I supposed to say something here?" "YES!" roars the class. The prof looks at SLG and says, "could you, you know . . .?" and she puts the stubby pencil down. Thirty whole seconds go by. Pencil resumes position. Whirring resumes. Lecture goes on. Snickering continues.

WHIRRRRRR. WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRR. WHI......

"Could you just use the pencil I lent you?" I ask, "this is very distracting." This ceases the whirring for another thirty seconds or so.

(please note that at this point we haven't taken any notes yet).

The class breaks for five minutes, and SLG goes at 'er hardcore and sharpens the heck out of that pencil. Phew! Other students congregating in the hall commiserate about how annoying the first hour of the first class has been. My mechanical pencil is returned to me unused.

Class resumes, and by the grace of some magnificent force, there is no more whirring. Work starts, and the class is feverishly writing notes, with the exception of SLG who has taken out her textbook and has bent over the table firmly pressing her forehead into it. Her fingers travel in and out of her nose. Suddenly, a new, much quieter noise is coming from SLG. bzzzzz. bzzzzz. Her cell phone is ringing in her pocket. She fishes it out, opens it up and very quietly says, "call back later, I'm in class." pause. "NO! CALL BACK LATER, I'M IN CLASS!"

Giggling is coming from the back of the class. Thirty seconds passes, the prof is forging on with the lecture.

The cellphone comes out again. "I SAID CALL BACK LATER, I'M IN CLASS!!!!" SLG shouts into her phone.

Full scale, uncontrollable laughter comes from the back of the class. I am sitting very still, and trying with every fibre in my body to remain quiet. A girl apologies to the prof for laughing. He says not to worry, and then asks SLG if she needs to leave the room to make a phone call. She says no.

The rest of the class was fairly unremarkable, with the exception of this strange forehead pressing into textbook thing going on beside me. SLG didn't write a single word with her sharp pencil. Not-a-one.

This is going to be a long semester.

2/30 - Melancholy

Posting every day? I already feel as though I have bitten off more than I can chew . . .

Paul has been gone for nearly two weeks, and it is one more week before he returns. It feels like forever. Last time he went away it wasn't for so long and he wasn't so far away, and I was in the midst of midterms and paper writing, so his absence was a bit of a relief and it was nice to be in very quiet and very tidy space. This time he is gone for a week longer, and has missed most of my break in between semesters. Work has been stressful, and afternoons have been boring and melancholy. But good news! Integral calculus starts tomorrow!

30 days of blogging, and an introduction

So Christa and I have challenged each other to a post a day for 30 days to spice up our little blog-o-sphere a little. We haven't worked out any specifics of the challenge, like whether there has to be a minimum amount of words (100?) or what our official start date should be, but it looks like today for me.

I'd like to congratulate my dear friend Harmony on the birth of her first child, little Kai, who arrived on the 30th of April at a whopping 8lbs 6oz. I'm following the trend I started with my cousin, and posting a picture of the little guy without parental consent. (Tro, let me know if you want me to take it down).

Check out little Kai - isn't he amazingly gorgeous? Obviously, since he came from amazingly gorgeous parents!

things the wiley office mate can find when we share an office with someone who never throws ANYTHING away . . .

This pretty much sums up life at work lately.

Publication date: 1969.

bring your own bag!

I was super stoked to happen up on this article about how San Francisco has banned the use of plastic shopping bags, as has a small town in Manitoba where failure to comply with the new regulations will result in a $1000 per day fine. In San Francisco, grocery stores will have 6 months to comply with the new regulations. The city legislator who introduced the bill, Ross Mirkarimi, said that up to 200 million plastic bags are used each year in the city of roughly 740,000 people. By cutting 100 million plastic bags a year the city will save 1.5 million litres of oil, and eliminate 4.2 million kilograms of carbon dioxide.


Awesome. I ALWAYS take my own bags grocery shopping. The checkout people groan when they see me coming when I do my big once a month grocery shop, cause my bags are harder to pack than the disposable ones which fit in their bag holders. I usually help them out with packing my own bags in order to speed things along.

I have three gigantic sturdy bags I made by sewing some nylon webbing to a cheap rag rug, and then sewing the sides of the rug together. I also have a bunch of canvas bags my dad bought me from Lee Valley, and I think they were $3 each. Safeway has reusable bags which are made from recycled plastic bags. They sell them at the customer service desk (but you can also ask for them at the checkout) two for $1. These won't last quite as long as the canvas ones, but they say they should last you at least 50 shopping trips. You can also buy more expensive but funky bags from BYOB, a Vancouver company that makes funky shopping bags out of organic cotton. They have cool designs and awesome slogans on them. I might be a sucker and pick one up for myself - I especially like their 'cheeky' bag. Which is now in the picture up a the top of the post, which I can't move or make go away.

So do your part, get yourself some reusable bags, and remember to take them with you shopping. Keep a couple in your car or backpack for those impromptu trips to the grocery store. I have a rule for myself where if I forget one, I either have to carry all of my stuff out with no bag, or I have to buy a reusable one.

ice bath

Yes, those are ice cubes floating in a bathtub of freezing cold water, and yes, that is my sweet fella sitting in there like a crazy man for 15 minutes, no more, no less. And no, his naughty bits didn't make it into the picture, so quit looking so closely, you pervs.

The ice bath became a regular thing during this build for the Busselton Half Ironman, near Perth, Australia. Paul says the ice baths made the difference between doing a crazy six hour bike ride with repeats up and down to the lookout on Cypress Mountain, and being able to train the next day or not. I've always said he was cute, I've never EVER said he was sane.

Term 2 (Jan - May) is normally a rough term for us a couple, with me seriously feeling the burnout from the work/school combo, and Paul working on his PhD project equally hard, T.A.ing an extra course, and of course, building up to the start of his race season. The result is usually two very tired, very cranky, and very snappy people who are apt to take out their stress on the closest person - namely each other. I'm happy to report that this year term 2 followed more along the lines of the open-communication-giving-each-other-space-to-be-cranky-and-being-supportive-where-we-can-all-the-while-recognizing-this-is-simply-stress-and-not-taking-it-personally turn our relationship has taken over the last six months or so. It only took us 3 1/2 years to get to this point. I feel like we should get a certificate of achievement or something.

So Paul is off to the land down under on Friday evening, where he will compete in this third triathlon of the race season, and this the first really prestigious one. After he races he'll meander to the other side of the country for a conference on paper physics on the Gold Coast. Lucky boy presents on the first day, so will be able to relax and enjoy being in Oz after that. When the engineering physics geeks wrap up their gig, he heads north to the Great Barrier Reef for some r&r, before returning home, hopefully in one piece (although this I have my doubts about since he JUST found out the drive on the other side of the road . . .) and hopefully with Tim Tam's and red wine a-plenty.

I will be staying home, holding down the fort, bringing home the bacon, and starting my summer semester in which I will tackle the last calculus class I'll ever be required to take. Hopefully. Famous last words.

something to blog about

I'm coming up for air in the midst of a calculus studying bonanza to share some exciting news . . . I got in to UBC!!!

Several people, upon hearing that news, have looked blankly at me and said, "you don't already go to UBC?" No! You tools, I've been taking classes at Langara for the last three years. Pay attention! I had to upgrade a bunch of crap I either never took or failed in highschool, and I've also been plugging away slowly at relevant courses since they're soooo much cheaper there.

Anyhoo, I have applied to UBC three times, and been rejected twice. I applied into arts out of highschool, and was turned down (went to UVic, which had been my first choice anyways, instead). I applied to arts again about four years ago, and was turned down again. Boo. But totally understandable, since my grades in highschool sucked, and I totally fucked around my third year at UVic, didn't even bother finishing some final assignments, so transferring those courses over didn't seem so appealing to the nice folks at UBC.

Third time's a charm, as it would seem. I've been working hard, busting my ass at science and math classes I swore over a decade ago I'd never ever take again, and finally there is some pay off. I didn't tell anyone I'd applied, because I didn't want to have to tell people if I got turned down again. I got home today and saw the package in the mail with the huge YES! splattered across the front of the envelope, and immediately burst into tears. As I opened the envelope and read the letter congratulating me on my acceptance (acceptance resulting from my "outstanding academic performance", no less!), the tears turned into this shaking/laughing/crying combo which continued for the better part of an hour. I managed to get ahold of both of my parents, and my mom started with the leaky tear ducts when I told her, which sent me off again.

So, starting in September, I will be an undergraduate student working towards a Bachelor of Science in Food Nutrition and Health. It'll be another couple of years before I'm ready to apply to the Dietetics program, but getting into the faculty is the first step. It's a big step, and for me a huge personal accomplishment, the scale of which I can't possibly describe. I am excited, and terrified.

Watch out UBC . . . I'm gonna come at you like a spider monkey!

the ticker, the math, the pursuit, and my smokin' hot fella.

I'm getting on the ticker bandwagon. No, I'm not knocked up. It's the countdown to the end of all math. All the math I'm required to take, not the end of all math, period. That would be ridiculous. The universe would cease to function. There would be chaos.

I'm blaming my lack of blogging of late on my academic pursuits. Calculus is kicking my ass right now, and trigonometric differentiation is holding me down so it can beat me like it means it. The end of math is in sight. I can do it. Also I had to write a stupid paper, but now it's done, cited and everything.

In other news, I've been contemplating a slight change of direction with the whole higher education thing. My passion still lies in food, there is no questioning that, but exactly what I want to do with food is up for debate. The dietetics program has caught my eye, particularly since it has recently been changed to include a fifth year clinical practicum. Previously it was up to graduates to find an internship of their own, which proved to be near impossible and so many people graduated but never got their R.D. Now everyone who finishes the program will automatically get the practicum, and thus their R.D. designation (assuming you pass licensing exams). It will take the same amount of time as if I were to do the education thing, and the first two years of the program are virtually the same as the Food, Nutrition, and Health one I have been working towards, so I won't have lost any ground if I decide to switch, and I've got a comfy amount of time to decide. The appeal of doing dietetics and becoming a R.D. is the flexibility the field offers. I could work in a hospital, as a community dietitian, or I could be my own boss and have a clinical practice. The longer I work in aquatics the more appealing being my own boss becomes. So, big decisions, but lots of time to figure things out.

Oh, and today is my three-and-a-half year anniversary with my smokin' hot fella, who I fall more and more in love with as each day passes. And he's out of town, so I am getting the carpets cleaned! Hurray!

question

I'm still fairly new to the world of the digital camera, so my question to those of you with more experience is this: how do you store your pictures? Do you worry about your computer crashing and losing all of your photos? Do you chuck them onto a CD and keep it somewhere, or on a USB stick, or are they floating around in cyber space? Where are they safest?

I have a flickr account, but in order to fit many photos on there they have to be shrunk, so were I to print those photos the quality may not be so great, from what I understand.

Help me!

from my fella

Maxwell David

Congratulations to my cousin Julie, and introducing Maxwell David, born Feb 4th, weighing in at 7lbs 7 oz.



Mad propz also go to her husband Lance, who accidentally included a juicy pre-labour beav shot in the photos he sent out to over 200 people, including friends, family, and business associates. I'd post it here, cause quite frankly it's pretty hilarious, but I think the pain meds are near wearing off and Julie is about to get pretty pissed.

Welcome to the world, Max!

birthday smirthday

My birthday is on Friday. I feel fairly ambivalent about the whole thing, however, after much deliberation I have gone to the trouble of trying to plan a casual celebration of sorts. There will be cake, and I will eat it. If no one shows up, there will be more cake for me, and Paul and I can sit at home and get drunk just the two of us, and I might even get lucky. If people show up, fun will be had by all. It seems to be a win-win situation.

Reasons I'm looking forward to it:

-My actual age and the age I tell people I am will be the same finally (other than people at work . . . my actual age and the age I tell people at work I am will be the same never). For some reason I had a mental birthday in August (August 19th, to be exact), so biologically I'm just catching up.

-I have a lunch date with one of my favourite seniors from the pool, Tina, and fellow birthday grouch, KD.

-Paulie is taking me shopping for new clothes! And he's going to come with and be my wardrobe consultant! Fun!

-I'm giving myself a long weekend from work, so some sleeping in is bound to happen!

-Some of my favourite human beings of all time have committed to coming over and helping me celebrate, as well as some new friends and some newly reunited old friends.

-It's an excuse to wear a party dress, although more likely than not you'll find me in jeans or stretchy pants (stretchy pants = more cake eating capacity).

-Did I already mention cake? To further that, I'll be making desserts that require the use of a blowtorch!

Reasons I think my birthday is cool:

-I share my birthday with The Great One (if I have to tell you who that is, hurry and come over so I can smack you one).

-Myself, my brother, and my grandmother have our birthdays 3 days in a row. My youngest sister also has a January birthday . . . my parents were BUSY in March!

-Two of my favourite people of all time, each named Kim, also have birthdays within 10 days of mine. We're going to have a special birthday outing just the 3 of us called the K-K-K birthday extravaganza! Inappropriate? Yes!

Introducing the newest member of our family . . .

The Koga-Miyata 100% carbon fibre time trial frame. This would be bike number four (five if you count my dingy old bike, forced to live out on the porch braving the elements while the others bask in the warmth of the living room . . .), though I'm told one of the others may be put up for sale soon.

To Paul this light weight beauty means taking actual minutes off of a 40k time trial, and who knows how much at longer distance races. See the height difference between the seat and the drop bars (soon to be replaced with carbon fibre TT bars, no doubt)? Can you see the crazy aero position that would force the rider into? And with a lightness and strength offered by no other composite material? This, along with renewed sponorship* from Asics, his favourite shoe people, and a great mental grasp on the style of racing he wants to do (draft legal vs non draft vs short course vs mid vs long course . . .) bodes well for a fast season. With big races coming up in Florida and Australia, this is a good thing.

To me it means more bike grease on the living room carpet.

*We are thankful for all of the wonderful sponors. If your company is interested in sponoring Paul, please contact him directly through his website. All sponorship offers will be considered.

A Helluva Holiday

Hello blog readers! Welcome to 2007! What do I have to say? Not that much, but in the interest of not getting killed by Miss KD or punched in the face by Rebecca, I had better put something down.

I enjoyed some much needed rest over the holidays, and other than excessive amounts of family time (both mine and Paul's), basically became a hermit, stayed in sweats or pyjamas and watched a kazillion DVD's. And ate chocolate. A lot of chocolate.

We rented and watched seasons four and five of Six Feet Under and watched them all in a matter of days. I am being as sincere as I know how to be when I say that this was hands down THE BEST TV series I have ever watched. It was created and co-written by Alan Ball, Oscar winning writer of American Beauty, and there are certainly some of the same elements from the movie popping up through the series. The series finale was, in my opinion, the best, most satisfying end to a series of all time. We watched it, bawling uncontrollably by the end (well, I was . . . I'm not convinced that Paul has functioning tear ducts - a theory I may test in the future by punching him in the nuts as hard as I can . . . oh wait, I want to have babies . . . scratch that), and then immediately watched the last five minutes over again, and then watched the last episode over again with the Alan Ball's commentary, which was also great. Now I want to buy the entire series and start watching from the beginning again. I've been scoping ebay for some sweet deals.

Santa came, and was good to me. A little too good, if you ask me. I got a Le Creuset french oven:

which I absolutely freaking love. It's cast iron coated with a porcelain enamel, so it heats evenly, can get up to and safely retain super high heats, and can go from the stove top to the oven to the fridge to the table. You can even bake a cake in it. These things aren't cheap, so it's my Christmas AND birthday present from my out-laws. I also received some great new frying pans to replace my crappy non-stick ones, and a Calphalon stainless steel frying pan, which I never knew I wanted but now can never part with.

New Years was awesome! I hate New Years, and the last three that Paul and I have spent together have all resulted in massive fights and starting the new year completely pissed off at each other. I refused to lift a finger to plan anything for this year, and Paul is inherently lazy, didn't make any real plans and kept changing his mind about what he wanted to do until it was just too late, so we stayed home watching movies and then watched the countdown on Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve, and were in bed by 12:15. Best New Years Eve ever!

Resolutions? Last year my resolution was to no longer support Starbucks. I am proud to say that I have been Starbucks free now for over a year. I had considered loosening up on it after the one year mark, mainly because when friends want to go for coffee and I tell them we can't go to Starbucks they look at me like I'm completely insane (which usually goes away once I explain my reasons), but I truly don't think that Starbucks needs or deserves my money. Maybe if they start using a biodegradable or recyclable cup, or make the incentive to bring your own mug a little better, or stop popping up on every street corner, I might reconsider. For 2007 I'd like to try to put more of my energy into me, and focus on good mental health.

Crust Test

My good friend KTS found the Crust Test booklet in his girlfriend's sister's car, and after he gave me the Crust Test I knew for sure it needed to be shared with the world.

Crust Test:

1. Which of the following has a crust?
a) feet
b) bathtub
c) hippy
d) toast

2. Which of the following does not have a crust?
a) toast
b) pizza
c) pie
d) angry

3. What is crust best used for?
a) soaking up spills
b) making art projects
c) holding doors open
d) recreational use only

4. Do crusts float?
a) yes, life-preservers are crust inside
b) no, cement is mostly crust
c) no, don't be silly
d) it's never been tried (that would be a waste of crust)

5. What is the national crust capitol?
a) Crustville
b) Cape Crust
c) Crustfornia
d) Winnipeg

6. What if all toast was made only of crust?
a) no one would eat it
b) the crust shortage would come to an end
c) toast would be called crust and crust would be called toast
d) angry

7. Could crust take over the world?
a) yes, if we let it
b) no, crust has no legs
c) people would be better off
d) no one would notice

8. If you hate crust people might refer to you as . . .
a) crust hostile
b) crust jerk
c) crustist
d) the anticrust

Adopt-A-Family

At work we've decided to get into the holiday spirit with some meaningful charity. We're involved with the Salvation Army's "Adopt-A-Family" program, which matches people/families/businesses with a family in need to put together a holiday hamper for. Once you are matched with your family you are sent a very brief description to help you figure out what sort of things should go in the hampers. We are sponsoring two families, both single mothers with young children. The hampers are going to be filled with things like clothes and toys for the children, small gifts for the mom's, non-perishable food items, some perishable food for holiday dinners OR grocery store cards, books, useful household items, etc.

If you would like to get involved you can a) get in touch with me and contribute a cash or item donation to our families, or b) check out the Adopt-A-Family program and get involved with a group of your co-workers, friends, or family to put together a hamper of your own.

Apparantly sponsorship of this program is down 25% this year, and that means that up to 75 needy families may not get the extra help over the holidays they need. Deadline for getting involved with a new family is Dec 11th. You can contribute to the two families we are sponsoring up until Dec 21st.

perfect attendance

Yesterday was my last day of classes for the semester. I didn't miss a single class all semester. They give out some sort of a prize for that, right?

I don't know what it was that made this semester so tough for me. I had really great professors, and (in my books) a pretty manageable schedule - though I won't miss finishing work at 1pm and having to rush across town for a 1:30 class. Whatever it was, I survived it, and I'm really looking forward to my finals being over by 1pm on December 15th. Then I get to relax.

Work has been an enormous source of stress over the past few months. Really, work has been insane for nearly 14 months, when my beloved partner Christa went on stress leave and I tried my best to juggle both of our jobs as best I could, followed by Christa coming back to work 3 months later, but quickly making the (right) decision that this is not a good place for her to be, and so resigning. A month or so later Meghan arrived and I spent some months adjusting to having a new partner who just wasn't Christa! By the end of the summer I felt like Meghan and I had developed a good understanding about how we wanted to work together, and things were settling down nicely when BOOM! Our general manager was fired. I do believe he deserved it, but initially it was one of those "be careful what you wish for" type situations, since he had been the only person who knew how to troubleshoot a variety of mechanical problems. There were some high stress moments over the last 3 months as a result, but in the past few weeks things have started to feel like they are under control, if not a bit better than they were before. A new manager has been hired and is scheduled to start work on Dec 18th, so things will go topsy turvy once more adjusting to new leadership. I look forward to the new manager with some trepidation.

much ado about nothing

I spent a large chunk of time this morning writing a loooooong post I've been meaning to write for quite some time. Somehow while trying to spell check, it got lost. I guess it wasn't meant to be.

Now this is all you get.

I'm not going to lie,

drinking all of this bottled water is making me feel a little bit like a movie star.

how much do my new boots rule?

So much!!!! My feet are dry, dry, dry, and warm to boot! Ha ha, to boot!

best tuesday night dinner ever

If any of you know me at all, you are already familiar with the "routine". For those of you who don't, in brief, dinner at our place goes like this:

Monday: spinach salad w/ cottage cheese*
Tuesday: carb night**
Wednesday: spinach w/ cottage cheese
Thursday: omelet night***
Friday: varies, but often salad****
Saturday: varies****
Sunday: varies, but seems to be evolving to pizza night****

*This is mainly a Paul thing. I'll have a scoop of cottage cheese every few weeks, but his salad is always doused with dressing and cottage cheese. I don't do dressing.

**The carb changes. Can be a pasta, a stir fry, a pilaf, a risotto. Must be carb heavy.

***I'm pretty touch and go with eggs, so for me Thurday is often left-overs from Tuesday, but for Paul it is always a massive omelet.

****Weekends vary depending on whether Paul is racing. If he is, normally a huge pot of spaghetti is his pre-race dinner, with a meat sauce for him and a veggie sauce for me. We try to really treat ourselves one weekend night and get some great cheese and good wine and whip up something gourmet. This weekend past saw fresh sheets of homemade pasta turned into tortellini with spinach, pumpkin, pumpkin seeds and asiago inside. Yum.

Anyhoo. When Paul and I first moved in with each other I found the routine to be a little much. I didn't want to eat salad just because it was Wednesday! I wanted food to be exciting with new stuff happening all the time. Time went by, and little by little, I adopted the routine. Now if you were to call me on a Wednesday and invite me out for sushi you'd get a reply that sounded something like, "For god's sake, don't you know it's salad night? I can't eat sushi tonight! Try me on a Tuesday, or a Friday!"

I admit that the routine is neurotic and crazy, but I love it. Why? Limited thinking, and thus limited tendency to stray from the plan. It has made it easy for me to maintain my 30lb weight loss for over 2 years with no journalling!

The salads are most often the same, with the odd twist thrown in. Paul's omelet is ALWAYS the same. Weekends are fun and exciting and we often try new things. Tuesdays are fun because there are so many different carbs to play with.

Tonight I had a recipe in mind for Curried Coconut Pumpkin Stew. I think I got it from Martha Stewart. I have this 22lb pumpkin I've been trying to use up (most of it is in the freezer in puree form) so the recipe fit the bill. Unfortunately, when I set out to start cooking I realized I was missing some essential ingredients. I went for a bit of a dig around my cupboards, and then across the street to Sambal and Ginger where I grabbed a bag of split mung beans, and then the magic began!


Katie's Curried Coconut Pumpkin Mung Stew:

2 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 onion, minced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp ginger powder
1 tsp cumin
2 tsp curry powder
2 cups pumpkin, cubed
1/2 cup split mung beans
1 can coconut milk
1 can water
1 large head broccoli, chopped
salt to taste

To make: In a large heavy bottomed pot, heat oil over medium heat. Add onions and garlic and saute 1 min. Add ginger, cumin, curry and pumpkin and split mung beans, and saute for 1 min more. Add coconut milk and water, and bring to a simmer. Cover and let simmer for 15 min, stirring occasionally. Add broccoli florets and cook uncovered until just tender. Salt to taste. Serve over brown rice.

This was freaking delicious. Paul said, and I quote, BEST TUESDAY NIGHT DINNER EVER!!!

While at Sambal and Ginger I discovered a new (to me) ingredient I want to play with. Stay tuned for next Tuesday's dinner!

survey

For those of you who are a part of a couple, or have ever been a part of a couple:

How often do you fight?

The Reunion

To begin with, a little background:

My highschool, like all highschool's, I'm sure, had it's drama and it's cliques. There was one clique, the "popular people" who were called the Beverlys. It was a nickname given to them due to their likeness (or wannabe likeness) to the affluent folks on the then popular Beverly Hills 90210. They adopted this nickname and made it their own, and even wrote things like, "Beverlys 4 ever" in their yearbook grad writeups.

While I have remained in contact with really only a smattering of people from highschool, and of those only two who I consider to be good friends, the Beverlys have stayed together. The reunion was originally scheduled to be a few weeks earlier, and I was totally on the fence about going. Harmony was unable to come, and our long planned Romy and Michelle style entrance was not going to be possible, so what, really, was the point? It turned out the event organizers had made a HUGE mistake . . . they had set the date of the reunion on the same day as one of the Beverlys was getting married! Oh, the humanity! An email was sent out saying that the date would have to be changed due to the "large number of people" who would be attending the wedding. This made me so fucking angry. I felt like in 10 years NOTHING had changed, so what was the point of going at all? What percentage of our grad class would be attending the wedding to justify changing the entire thing around? Such bullshit.

A friend bought me a ticket, so I was committed.

A couple of weeks out of the reunion I bumped into a couple of people who I hadn't really been friends with in highschool, but they seemed like alright folks, and we agreed that we'd go, and if it sucked we'd ditch out early and go get a drink somewhere. Before the reunion I met up with a good friend, and another guy who I'd actually gone to school with all the way from grade 1 or 2, and we had some dinner and (I felt) much needed drinks. Fueled by liquid courage, we went to the reunion.

Upon arriving my first thoughts were mainly, "who the heck is that?" and a table of "hello, my name is _______________" stickers quickly solved that problem. I felt pretty awkward for the first 15min or so, and the hairs on my neck were on end. A couple of gin and tonic's later, I was much more relaxed. I did the small talk thing with some people, didn't bother with some others, and made some surprisingly real connections with a select few. What surprised me the most was the lack of Beverly presence in the room. There were maybe five or six Beverly girls, and only a couple of Beverly boys who bothered to show up, and the kicker is, they all left early to go to a Beverly Halloween party! Thank god the entire reunion was rescheduled for that!

A guy I had always thought was pretty cool told me he had a crush on me in highschool! A number of people told me they had really hoped I was going to show up, and were glad to see me. One girl who I had always respected quite a bit told me that I stood out in her mind as the person who had changed the most over the 5 years of highschool, from wearing all black in grade 10 to becoming (in her words), a rainbow in grade 11, to seemingly figuring out who I was in grade 12. She told me she had always admired how blatant and obvious I was about trying to figure it all out, and she had felt intimidated and not known how to talk to me back then. It felt really good to hear that, and to know that someone had noticed when I really thought no one had. With the Beverly coningent gone, it seemed to become a room full of really interesting people who were fun to talk to. I talked to people who I had absolutely no recollection of whatsoever, but who were great, fun, people. I even left and went to some house parties with people who I would have never considered spending time with before.

I'm very glad I went. Going to the reunion has actually put an entirely new spin on my highschool experience, and made me feel remarkably better about it. I've made some new connections I'm very excited about following up on. Yesterday I made a phone call to a girl who I had exchanged phone numbers with, and it made me laugh when she said, "Didn't it make you so mad that the whole thing had to be rearranged for the Beverlys, and then hardly any of them showed up and those who did left early?"

Yep.

Lifted

It's official. The terrible horrible no good very bad mood I've been in for the last month or so has finally lifted. It feels fan-fucking-tastic to be gone. To be correct, it lifted last Wednesday, but I a)haven't made time to blog, and b)wanted to be sure before I started bragging about it and all.

What made it lift? Not really sure. Maybe I've adjusted to the cooler greyer weather. Maybe it's having survived round 1 of midterms this semester, and having done smashingly well in calculus and on my biology lab exam, and realizing where I went wrong in the bio lecture exam and looking forward to kicking ass on the next one. Maybe deciding not to do certain things at work that just aren't my job has helped. Who knows. It's gone, and that's good.

Tonight I am going to my 10 yr highschool reunion. It's been more than 10 years, but they didn't get their act together to organize something for when we actually graduated. So I'm going to go because I'm worried I'll regret it if I don't. I'm sure they're still assholes. I'm going to tell them I invented Post-It notes. Don't worry Tro, I'll tell them it was your idea to make them yellow.

Okay, one little thing.

One of the things that's been going on with me lately which I haven't felt like talking about (not to actual human beings anyway, that's why I'm blogging it) is panic attacks.

Anyone who knows me a little knows about my long standing head phobia. I don't want anyone to touch my head, and I ESPECIALLY don't want anyone to touch my head with their head. I don't lend out my hairbrush, or borrow one, and I don't try on hats. In fact, I can recall having a complete flip out when I was in the brownies (before they kicked me out) and we were going for a walk in the woods where there was a mandatory hat-wearing rule due to the risk of a tick falling on your head and giving you lime disease. One of the girls didn't have a hat, so my mom lent her one of mine. That was not cool. I'm pretty sure I never wore that hat again. Why the head thing? A big part of it is an irrational fear of headlice, which I have never had, and check myself for each and every night before I go to bed. Yeah, yeah, I know, lice like clean homes too, it doesn't mean your head is dirty if you have them. Whatever. Speaking of dirty heads, don't get me started on dreadlocks. Xta, I am glad yours are gone. No matter how non-stinky you claimed them to be (I never got close enough to smell them).

I also don't like it when people sit too close to me. Why? I am afraid that something from their head might somehow get into my mouth, or in my nose. Seriously, that's why.

Okay, to the panic attacks. I had one sitting on the runway in this dinky little airplane waiting to leave Saskatoon. Then I had one on the ferry coming back from Gibsons one time. Then school started, and I started having them every day while walking up the crowded staircase between my calculus (did I mention the A on the midterm?) and biology (we're not discussing that midterm) classes. Now I've started to also have them while sitting IN biology class. What's it all about? It's freaking me out that I'm breathing in other people's breath. It's seriously crippling me. When I'm walking up the staircase which is freaking CRAMMED with people, I can make it up if I either hold my breath (not a good option because I get to class super dizzy) or hold my sweater hand over my nose and mouth as a "filter" of sorts. I used to feel safe as soon as I made it out of the staircase and into the classroom, but most days now there comes a point when it starts freaking me out in the middle of class, and I have to resort to breath holding and filtering behaviour. All I want to do is run at top speed outside for some fresh air, but I have to force myself to sit in class and try to look normal while also trying not to hyperventillate and trying not to cry (I think tears may have brimmed over at one point last week). The staircase is a lost cause, but in the classroom I seem to be able to talk myself down from it, telling myself, okay, everyone has to breathe, this is normal, people breathe in other people's breath all the time. BUT IT'S SO GROSS!!! I feel like I can kinda relate to those people who walk around with those dust masks on, and trust me, I've thought about carrying one of those around, but I don't think they will provide any sort of effective barrier (like my sweater/hand filter does). If someone sneezes or coughs around me, it's even worse. I've also started washing my hands with an alarming frequency, and carrying around that hand sanitizer gel, but that's all in the name of staving off the fall semester cold. This is getting worse and worse, so I'm hoping to find a solution to it. One that doesn't involve people getting too close to me. Physically.

Am I crazy?

who needs real life after all

when you can do THIS for stress relief

blah blah blog

I keep starting new posts, but deleting them soon after I begin writing. I guess I don't have all that much to say. It's not that nothing is going on. Au contrare, lots has gone on that I could be blogging about. The trouble is most of it is negative stuff so, a)I don't want to bitch when really I do have a lot to be thankful for, and b)I don't want to be bombarded with the, "hey, are things okay?" type emails, phone calls, and blog comments, so lets get that out of the way;

things are okay.

I'm just very stressed out, very tired, and very very cranky. There is something I'd like to brag about though . . . the A on my calculus midterm! An A, an A! Horray!

Did she?

Big thanks to Nicole and her fella for getting my home computer up and running again! Most affordable computer repair ever ! (I hope the wine was okay)

Here is the list I posted back in March, anticipating oodles of free time over the summer months, where I would get tons and tons of things accomplished. Lets see what I managed to get to . . .

-A thorough spring clean of each and every room in my apartment, which will include going through EVERYTHING and tossing stuff out.

Nope. Not even one room.

-Steam clean my carpets, which will hopefully remove the splotches from cleaning up bike grease

Nope. Though I talked about it alot, and sure would like to. I've pretty much accepted that although renting one of those do-it-yourself steam cleaners would be cheaper, I'm willing to shell out the bucks to have someone come and do it quickly.

-Go and purchase some additional shelving and reorganize the storage system in my living room/kitchen/dining room areas.

Nope. But I sure wish I had. Still high on the priority list of things to do around the apartment, and really needs to be done quite badly.

-Finish knitting the cabled hoodie (started a year ago)

YES!!!! And I love it. Second sweater I've finished, first one I've actually loved when finished. I even wear it! To school and everything! (Will post pictures at some point)

-Finish knitting the alpaca scarf (started 18 months ago)

Yes, but that's not nearly as impressive as the sweater. And it's sitting crumpled in a ball somewhere. Although with scarf season just around the corner, it'll make a good transition scarf to the colder weather, and bulkier scarves.

-Finish knitting Muchi's hat (started in Dec. His b-day was in Sept!)

Nope. And he's about to have another birthday. (hanging head in shame)

-Start and finish knitting Chris Lee's hat (b-day was in Jan!)

Nope. But he never knew I was going to knit him one, so I feel less bad about it. I think I may have bookmarked the yarn for another project by now.

-Knit Tatjana's hat OR go to Nanaimo for a weekend and re-teach her how to knit it.

Ha ha. Nope. But I did discover that that's where my 5mm circulars were hiding.

-Finish the quilt I started BEFORE Paul and I moved in together (should be more inclined to do it now that I have an actual sewing area set up in my apartment).

Nope. But I did meet up with Alice-Ruth, this granny who was in my quilting class, and she gave me lots of ideas for how to finish it up using the amount of blocks I currently have done (12) and spacing them out with blank blocks which I can free form emroider. Should look super cool. Eventually.

-Make Dolmades, which I bought a jar of grape leaves for over a year ago.

Nope. The jar is still in the cupboard. But that stuff never goes bad, right?

-Make creme brulee, or SOMETHING I can use the blowtorch I got for Christmas on.

Yes!!! And it was bruleecious!

-Do something with my VSB credits. Another sewing class, or maybe cake decorating?

Nope. Nada. But Paul and I have been talking about taking dancing lessons, so perhaps that's what I'll do with them.

-Go visit Jacquie and meet her new baby (Brenna, born in Nov!)

Yes! A whirlwind to Victoria and back in one afternoon kind of visit with Jacq and the cutest baby ever!

good news and bad news

The good news:

It's just the power source that's fried on my computer, which is a relatively inexpensive repair, and I won't lose any data.

The bad news:

the shop is out of the parts, their warehouse is out of the parts, and the supplier Is out of the parts. I'm not sure how long it'll be before I can create a post that will satisfy my number one reader.

coming soon . . .

A new post! I swear! I was on holidays with no computer access, and then the day I got back (also the day before school started) my home computer bit it. It's in the trunk of my car, and headed to the repair shop. Soon, soon.

delayed answers to edited questions

I've been slack at blogging, it's been too hot in my computer room, and I've been tired and lazy and watching 90210 and gallivanting around Alberta and BC on a stagette weekend and so on.

Furthermore, I have an announcement to make. This is my blog, and thus I will be editing questions to suit myself. Original questions can be found in the comments section a couple of posts down. New improved questions will be answered immediately below this sentence.

From Rebecca:
Q: How fabulous are you?

A: Pretty freaking fabulous, actually.

From Emily:
Q: What sorts of things do you like to smell?

A: Well, in truth, I'm a bit of a smeller. I like to smell all sorts of things. One of my favourite things to smell is my arm. I particularly like to smell my arm on very hot days after I've been swimming, when it kinda smells like that smell of hot sidewalk which has had water dumped on it. I love that smell. But I smell my arm on other days too, often several times a day. I also really like to smell Paul's armpit. Not when he's just walked in the door from a long workout and he's all wet and sweaty, but when he's relaxing on the couch or in the bed and the deodorant has worn off just slightly so there's that delicious man smell mixed with Old Spice and armpit hair. Love it. Unfortunately, Paul does not like having my nose in his pit so much, so I have to smell it in stealth.

More questions are welcome, but be forewarned they may be edited at the authors discretion.

my two favourite boys

this one from Karyn . . .

Q: What childhood liberty do you miss the most?

A: I think the liberty I miss the most is not being worried. Does that count? Not worried about watching what I eat so I can lose 7lbs so I can fit into that fabulous dress for one of the weddings I have to go to this summer. Not worrying about whether or not I look fat in my bathing suit. Not worrying about whether or not the next paycheque is going to cover rent, car payment, car insurance, cell phone bill, phone home/internet bill, hydro, groceries, and so on. Not worrying about whose turn it is to cook dinner or do the dishes. Not worried about whether I will get good enough grades to move on to the next step in my educational fiasco. Not worrying about how old I am and when I should be starting to have babies, or whether or not my period has come on time when I am trying to PREVENT babies. Not worrying about how much I have in my savings account, checking account, RSP, line of credit, visa, mastercard, mutual fund.

And I miss having the months of July and August completely off of school and work, and just hanging out up at Gibsons being salty and sun tanned and lying on the beach until the tide touched my toes, and being shaked upon by Chelsea the stinkiest dog in the whole world, and having the biggest fires on the beach built by a real fireman.

I also really really miss rootbeer popsicles, and I haven't been able to find them anywhere for at least 10 years, so if anyone finds them please a) buy the entire case and I'll find a way to get them from you, and b) call me asap so I can find out who the distributor is and buy many many more cases.

And I miss not thinking that most men are total dirt bags.

continued . . .

From Xta: What one thing/person/activity would bring you the most non-temporary joy, if you could add it to your life right now?

A: A three fold question deserves a three fold answer. . .

Thing: A new mattress! My god how I hate our mattress. When Paul and I moved in together my Dad built us (me) a beautiful oak bed as a housewarming present. We had this shitty old mattress which belonged to Paul, and it was killing my back, so we decided it was time for a new one. The mattress was to be our first joint purchase as a couple. Sleep Country was having a sale, so we went there and perused their mattress selection. Truth be told, we probably spent less than 45 min in the store lying on beds, rolling around, bouncing up and down. We settled on this one in particular, and they happened to be selling the demo model for a significant discount. Thing with the demo model was it didn't come with the 60 night guarantee all of their other mattresses come with, so once we bought it, we were stuck with it. I voiced my concerns, but Paul PERSONALLY GUARANTEED that the mattress would be fine, and threw jabs at me like, "Why don't you take a risk for once in your life?" and, "Sorry I was ever born." and it turned into the most ridiculous fight ever, in the middle of sleep country, in front of the mattress salesman. So we bought the friggen thing, and low and behold, I hate it. It's too soft, I feel like I'm sinking, my intercostal muscles hurt when I get up in the morning. Paul loves it, and not having to listen to him bitch about not being able to sleep is almost worth it. A new mattress is number one on my list of things to buy when budget allows.

Person: Jenn P. She's been gone for too long, and I want her back. Having her back in town would really round out my circle of girlfriends, plus I'll have to start taking biology classes soon, so I could really use her as a tutor.

Activity: SLEEP! I can't get enough of it. Mostly due to the crazy early hours I work, and the fact that the rest of the world keeps a different schedule, and I'm always up WAAAAAAY past my bedtime. The first thing I think about every morning at 4:30 am when my alarm goes off is canceling my afternoon plans so I can come home and nap. I can't remember my last nap.

Sleeeeeeeep on a good mattress with a big fluffy duvet with Jenn P. I've heard she's a bed wetter.

A's

So far I've had two questions. The first one comes from Tara:

Q: If you could have one domestic chore also be an erotic act, which would you choose?

A: I've been thinking about this all day, and I'm gonna have to go with vacuuming. Why? Well, I think I hate vacuuming the most of all of the household chores I do. I have to move heavy stuff around, I frequently throw my back out in the process, and I have a terrible, horrible vacuum. I shouldn't complain, really, since my mother gave me this vacuum, and I have a place to vacuum, and the ability to stand up and move around and vacuum, but the vacuum freaking sucks. Or rather, it doesn't suck enough. It's old, and worn out, and the part on the handle that you squeeze when you want to activate the vacuum head is broken off so you have to stick your finger in this little space and push this teeny sharp little button and hold it down the entire time, but the stupid thing will still shut its self off at will, and then you have to take the head apart and reset it before you can carry on with the job. It doesn't pick up a lot of stuff, and trust me, there's a lot of stuff to be picked up on the light grey carpet of our apartment. Every time I use the bloody thing I think about how much I'd like a brand spanking new vacuum, and I curse how expensive the good ones are, and how bo-daget bad the cheap ones are. If there was a way that vacuuming my apartment could also be an erotic art, that'd be sweet. Maybe I could fashion some sort of dildo harness on top of it so I could ride it around and get my rocks off while I cleaned. I'm sure the warmness and vibrations of the vacuum cleaner would be quite a treat. Imagine how nice my carpets would be . . .

As a side note, I know it's a long ways a way before Christmas or my birthday roll around, but I was thinking since I have so much stuff, and no real space for a lot more new stuff, perhaps all potential gift givers could chip in towards the future purchase of a new vacuum/dildo riding apparatus, rather than giving me stuff I don't have space for.

Question number two comes from Rebecca:

Q: Why are you disgruntled by the Blog thing?

A: I am disgruntled by the blog thing for a number of reasons. First, I have become increasingly aware of the fact that I don't really know who is reading my blog, and thus I've been reserved in picking topics to write about. I have considered starting a secret blog I won't tell a single soul about where I would write such things, but what would be fun about that? I am further disgruntled because people who know me have read the blog and been concerned about my emotional heath, so have phoned me to offer advice on what they thought was wrong with me, and I have patiently listened to such advice going on and on, only to realize that the things these people think are upsetting me and the things that are actually upsetting me are two completely different things. This leads me to believe either my writing is not that good, or my friends just don't know me that well. Who is to blame for that? Me? My friends? The blog? I then think desperately for witty things to blog about, and they come flying at me from all angles, but when I sit down to blog they just don't seem that witty or interesting anymore. For example, I've thought a number of times of blogging about Beverly Hills 90210, which is being played on channel TVtropolis FROM THE BEGINNING. It's insane! It's so bad it's hilarious. Things strike me about it, like how when I watched the first few episodes I noticed how chubby Brenda and Kelly and Donna all looked, and then I realized that they weren't chubby at all, but fast forward 15 years and the stars of the OC (what I think is today's 90210) are so unhealthy and skinny that it makes the TV stars of yesteryear look like fatso's. And they dress like adults, not teenagers. Did I notice that when I was 14, or did I dress like that too? The dialogue is SO BAD it makes me want to pee my pants on purpose a little. Lines like, "Dad, I know you're not ready for me to be having a sexual relationship yet, and neither am I. But what if I'm ready before you are? What then?" or, "Dammit Dylan, she's a virgin!" Season 2 is just starting, enter Emily Valentine, the rough and tough motorcycle riding babe who all the boys are after. Dylan is rebounding from Brenda, and takes a fancy to Emily, but so does Brandon. Will this jeopardize their friendship? In future episodes Emily Valentine takes the gang to a rave. They have to go to some convenience store and ask to exchange an egg, and then they'll get directions to the mystery party, where Emily will dose Brandon on E. Lucky Brandon. But none of this seems relevant, and so my blogging ceased. I'll try to be a better blogger from now on. It means a lot to Rebecca.

Keep those questions coming, folks. More questions means more posting.

Okay, okay.

Yes, loyal blog readers, it has been a while. I still don't feel like there's much that I want to say, and I'm feeling a little disgruntled towards the world of blog for a variety of reasons. I do see your point though, the blog is badly in need of an update.

So I'm gonna hop on the bandwagon and play a game that Anne is doing on her blog, which started with some other bloggers, maybe it even started in the land before blog. Who knows. Here's how it goes: you get to ask me a question, any question, and I will answer it on this blog with as much honesty and detail as I can (or choose to) muster. Post questions in the comments section, and I'll get started.

I'll just tell them I have nothing to say

I look at my blog every morning as I do my morning blog browse, and I think to my self, self, you should update your blog. I don't think I have anything of interest to say, but I feel some sort of blogligation to keep it fresh and current and interesting and if I can't do any of those things to just put SOMETHING down on the page.

So what's been going on? Well, I've been working overtime teaching some courses at the pool. I decided to not do my usual mad fit of overtime teaching in July and August, so instead I have done some moderate overtime in May/June, and squirreled away enough dough to pay my tuition and buy textbooks in the fall without going into the hole. Now that I've accomplished that, I shall spend the rest of the summer relaxing. I'm planning on teaching one course in the fall which should cover me for January tuition, and so long as I can keep going like that and not accumulate any new debt, I'm cool with that.

I'm off to Halifax on Saturday for a visit with the Grandma and meeting my sister, Emily, to hang out and bond and shit like that. After nearly a week in Halifax I go to Toronto, meet up with my long lost Peter Pie (it's been 7 years!), hang out with Harmony, and then go to Brampton to see Paul at Nationals.

So that's all. That's what's up.

Team Krochak back in action

Rocky Mountain Trialthon 2006 003
Originally uploaded by katieet.

Paul's race season is ramping up, and last weekend was week one of racing every weekend for the next four weeks building up for Nationals and a World Cup race.

We left Friday morning only 45 min behind schedule, and began the long drive from Vancouver to Kimberley. The drive was long and uneventful, we managed to get it done in just over 9 hours stopping only for gas and pee breaks along the way. We saw five deer, one goat, two coyotes and one bear. The place Paul booked us to stay in was waaaaay nicer than the dump we stayed in two years ago. It was big enough for six people, but we had it to ourselves.

Saturday we met up with the other athletes in the group Paul trains with; Michael, Shane and Jay, and their coach, Brian. The guys headed out to ride the bike course and Brian and I followed in his vehicle, chatting about what an obsessive nut Paul is and such stuff. Following the bike the guys all threw on their wetsuits and tested out the cold water at Wasa Lake. The rest of Saturday was spent relaxing, eating, attending a pre race meeting, and watching the hockey game. It's been a while since I've traveled to a race with Paul, so it was really nice to feel again like I play an important role in the process. I know what meals to make, what gear needs to be ready, when to just be quiet, and when to be helpful.

Saturday morning we were up bright and early to prep for the race and pack the car up. We headed down to the race start, which was already bustling with age grouper tri geeks taking themselves oh-so seriously, and getting their transition spots just right. After Paul changed his transition spot about eight times, we set up his gear and I stood by to be useful.

After a quick pre race pep talk by Brian, the gun went off, and a great race ensued. Paul lead the swim, was first out of the water, first out of transition on the bike, and had an amazing bike holding the lead the whole way. His new Time Trial set up on the bike was working well for him, Brian was pleased with how strong he looked, and Paul was happy with his new gear. The run went well, but not quite as well as we would have liked, Paul was passed by the course record holder, Kelly Guest, and so ended up finishing second overall. Both Paul and Kelly finished under the previous course record, and finished only 14 seconds apart. It was a good race, Paul said he felt good but not great, which is a good thing because that means his peak is yet to come. He also said it was really nice to have me there again, and it really felt like we were a team. He always says he knows how much work I put into his triathlon career, and when he wins a race he really feels like 'we' won, not just him.

The next four weekends he'll race in Oliver, Philadelphia, Brampton, and Edmonton. Brampton is Nationals, and that's where he'd like to be peaking.

Sunday after the race we drove from Kimberely to Penticton (about six hours) and stayed there for one night on a family friend's ranch. We had a great meal, and left on Monday with a cooler full of free beef for Paul. Monday drove from Penticton back to Vancouver, and other than a lame speeding ticket just leaving Princeton, the drive was good.

If you click on the picture above it'll take you to my flickr page and you can see more race pics. Unfortunately, I'm still getting to know flickr and I screwed up my storage space and maxed out my free storage for this month. More pictures to come next month now that I've figured out the bugs.

thanks, but no thanks

My mother is a wonderful person who has always been supportive of my vegetarianism. My mother is also a family doctor and so is concerned about her vegetarian daughters getting adequate iron, protein, b 12, etc. Now, I'm not a terribly picky eater. I don't eat any meat, and to me meat includes any animal, poultry, fish, seafood, I don't like mushrooms, and I don't like things that have raw eggs in them. Otherwise I'll eat pretty much anything. Whenever there is a family dinner the main dish is usually meat. I love side dishes and am perfectly happy to just eat them, the potatoes, the veggies, the yorkshire pudding . . . yummm . . . and not have any special vegetarian entree prepared for me. My mother, however, insists on making me something special every time I eat over there. Usually it's a lentil or bean based dish, and I'll usually scarf it down and if I don't Paul will finish it. Usually it's delicious.

Usually it isn't vegetarian haggis.

Enter the sister living abroad. Emily, when she comes home for the holidays usually brings an armload of tasty treats only available in England. Yummy vegetarian friendly Christmas puddings and the like from Marks and Spencer, gigantic chocolate bars, and this year past, a tin of vegetarian haggis. The haggis sat in the cupboard for, oh, five months or so untouched, and I peered at it curiously a few times, but my curiosity never got the point of actually opening the tin. Last weekend Buddy invited us over for dinner (via my dad) and we sat down for a meal of roast beef, veggies, and all the fixings. My mother placed the usual little dish of something special down beside me, and I peered at it, not entirely sure what it is. When I asked her, Mom replied that there was lentils and beans and other things in it, but I could tell she was holding something back. I peered a little further and asked again what it was, and she said, 'um, it came from a tin.' and I immediately knew that it was the haggis. Although there was no actual meat in the tin, and I am a big fan of all kinds of fake meats, other than one small spoonful, I just couldn't bring myself to eat it.

I mean, haggis? Come on.

Sorry Em.

crappy week, great news

This has been one of the most frustrating weeks I can remember at work. I don't want to vent too much since I know there are people who are on my staff who read this blog, and I don't want to be as unprofessional as certain people have been. Suffice to say, I am a lifeguard, not a filter technician, and the fact that I have been abandoned at work to deal with the most major filtration problems I have seen in the four years I have been there is the biggest bunch of bullshit ever. I've clocked a ton of overtime, said many bad words in front of my staff and plant ops, and swim coaches, learned that I have never been hugged by the 'most huggy guy on staff' (though he rectified that misdoing today with a surprise and suprisingly pleasant hug in the staff room), and nearly been reduced to tears of frustration in the middle of an international swim meet.

And then on Friday afternoon, at the end of my day, in the middle of a vent, I received the following text message from my dad:

"Latest PSA test good 5 years cancer free today"

And that made it all worth while.

you got gigantic box

Earlier this morning I was talking to a friend online who is getting married in August in a venue she has not seen. She lives out of town, so she won't get to see the venue until the wedding. I went to see it last night to sort out some decorating and flower ideas, and figure out what will work best. Anyhoo, there we were chit chatting away and I said to her, 'I think you have huge balls for agreeing to a venue with out even seeing it', and the conversation continued.

I thought nothing of it until later in my day, on my lunch hour run (okay, my 9:30am run, but that IS my lunch hour) when I was trying to keep my mind busy as to not focus on the mind numbing pain I was causing myself, I contemplated this phrase of 'huge balls'. Since the balls in question clearly refer to testicles, are we inferring that courage is a masculine trait? Is there an alternative phrase for women?

Here are a few I've tried out. You can vote on which one you like best.

1) you got gigantic box

2) I'm really impressed by your labia

3) you have huge ovaries (since I think ovaries are the opposite of testicles, biologically speaking)

serenity on a budget

Upon the reccomendation of my therapist, Deb, I took a book-on-cd out of the library called 'Nonviolent Communication' by Marshall Rosenberg. It's all about learning to listen to people and hear their needs, and communicate your own needs. It teaches the difference between saying things like 'I feel neglected' and 'I feel sad because I think I am being neglected when we don't spend any time together', and it teaches saying things like 'I'm hearing that you have a need for (fill in the blank) that is not being met, and I'd like to learn how I could meet that need'. Stuff like that.

Deb makes me do weird things sometimes (unlike that other shrink I took for a test drive who told me she doesn't use techniques, doesn't give homework, doesn't reccomend readings, she just talks. whatever. I can do that for FREE with any of my friends), so I was a bit skeptical, but I took the CD's out of the library, and uploaded them onto my ipod (is that illegal? Anne, does that violate some library code of conduct?). I've spent the last week or so going for walks in the afternoon listening to this series of CD's, and I have enjoyed it SO much. He has a wonderful voice to listen to, and a lot of what he had to say hit me in ways I didn't expect it to. It's about a lot more than just communicating. I have taken great pleasure in walking around, wearing my hat, and listening to this guy, and taking a look at myself from the outside. I take some wierd joy in knowing that the strangers who walk by me have no idea what I'm listening to, and how peaceful what I'm listening to is.

FYI

I've finally put some more recipes up on the recipe blog. They are both 100% my recipes from my brain, invented and tested in my kitchen. You can read them here.

The Plantetorium

We're in a north facing apartment, so we don't get a ton of light. Some late afternoon sun on the balcony, sure, but not much else. We do, however, have a sky light, and under the sky light grows the plantetorium. The plantetorium started with just a couple of manky plants, but an inherited big blue pot (thanks Marie!) and a crush on the fiscus at the corner store got us our first big one. Then I moved the jade I inherited from Jenn P. (much to the dismay of Kimmie, who got all of her other plants) under the sky light, and gave it a bigger pot, and man has it taken off. Various trips to Ikea and Wonderbucks for shelves, pots, and plants, and a memorable field trip to the Vancouver African Violet Society's annual show brought more and more green to the plantetorium. Those old ladies at the African Violet show sure loved Kimmie (but who wouldn't love a beefy 24 year old guy going ga ga for AV's?). Kimmie and I also became plant pirates, trading clippings with each other, picking up leaves and bits of plants from the street, raiding other plants in the office for trimmings . . . many of the plants in the plantetorium have been acquired in this nature. This past weekend a friend who is leaving town for a while brought us his babies, and now the plantetorium is starting to look like a jungle!

(note to self: acquire some non-ugly pots for new large plants, and stat!)

(Next weekends plans involve going shopping for my balcony plants! Horray!)

Today, in our living room . . .

Paul: Do we have a little ball, Babe?

Me: For what?

Paul: My physio exercises. I need to roll it around under my foot.

Me: I think we have a tennis ball around somewhere. I'll go look up stairs.

Me: (goes upstairs)

Paul: Never mind. I'm just going to use an orange.

Me: (shouting from upstairs) Don't use an orange! You'll squish it.

Paul: Okay, we'll hurry up then.

Me: (rummaging around upstairs)

Orange: (SQUISH!!)

Paul: Woah, Babe, you were right.

Me: What?

Paul: The orange. It did squish!

Me: No duh Babe, no duh.

Nothin Much

I haven't posted in a while since I haven't really felt like I had much to say of an interesting nature. Lets see . . .

Last week I went with some of my staff to a skin cancer clinic put on for lifeguards who work outdoors. It was pretty interesting. We all got our sunglasses tested in this little machine that tells you the percentage of UV rays the glasses actually let through, and my cheap sunglasses from the bay did remarkably well. We also stripped down to our underpants (or short shorts as it were) and got our skin tested for signs of damage by way of a dermatologist (most of us by the non-cute older doctor, but lucky KD by the CUTE younger doctor) waving this light wand around over our skin. We scored some sweet free sunscreen, and some educational flyers we have been putting up at work. We've also been checking the UV index and posting it in the staff room, and reminding people to slip, slap, slop.

Yesterday I had a major brain fart at work and left the chlorine pump for the hot tub on manual for nearly three hours. To put things into perspective, leaving the pump on manual for 1/2 hour would be sufficient to make the chlorine level really really really high. Three hours was enough to change the colours of peoples bathing suits and discolour jewelry. Whoops! My boss was suprisingly not that mad at me, and just gave me a hard time about it, and some 'these things happen' shrugs.

And, I have a cold, and cramps.

That is all.

A tough day being a lifeguard at an outdoor pool in Vancouver . . .

Not quite the same story when it's pissing rain in October, but glorious on days like today.

Lookie what I made

A shopping bag made out of a rag rug, some funky vintage oil cloth, and some webbing from the outdoor fabric store. Total cost of materials: less than $5. It was pretty time consuming, but I think the next ones will go faster.

Quotes

"You are an investment for my heart."

-Paul, who managed to be a complete sweetheart for 75% of the weekend

"Horray horray, the first of May. Outdoor screwing starts today!"

-My Dad, via text message.