40 here we go

In 6.5 hours I will be 40.
Gulp
I have been preparing for this for about 6 months but when it's here, it's here.
And it is here.
40 years ago my mother, 35 years old, was pushing me the heck out of her body.
40 years.
I got the most amazing picture from my nine-year-old niece - it's a picture of me and I have the funniest smile and nose. She's also drawn my interests - a running shoe, scrabble board, a pencil, a blackboard, a book and oddly, what looks like a bowl of soup or something. I do like food immensely it is true. If I had a scanner I would scan it in and show the picture to the world. I'm going to get it framed, it is absolutely awesome.
"Stop talking about your birthday," my co-worker friend, Kristina tells me. Fair enough, I have mentioned it a lot. I think it is a way to avoid the 40-year-old truth. Overcompensating perhaps.
Despite the bad knees, I went jogging for almost an hour after work. 40 year olds can still do these things!
If you are over 40, let me know, if you don't mind, how you handled your 40th. Mind you, if youwent out for a romantic dinner with your husband, don't tell me. You know how I get petty and jealous.
More later, Ihave to go remove my knees.

a vaguely more positive blog entry

I jogged for 50 minutes today! Excellent. And I had a huge blister on my foot and my knees were killing me but I did it! Yee haw. It really does mellow me out.

What else? And it is finally sunny today! Joy.

I purchased a vacuum from London Drugs the other day - a Hoover. A mini-canister vacuum. Really, it is so cute it's the baby I've always wanted. For being so small it has great sucking power. Yes, there are many, many places you could go with that statement but I leave that up to you.

What else? I believe we change the clocks next weekend for the start of Daylight Savings Time. Excellent. I remember growing up that my dad, not wanting to forget, changed the clocks at about 7 p.m. the night before. This was always confusing. Is Love Boat on now or in an hour? When is Fantasy Island on? Is my sister home at 4 or 5 a.m.? She was always the wilder one, causing angst to the parental units. Now she is a staid mother of a 9-year-old and the wife of a newly born-again Christian. Times do change. So remember, next Saturday night, to spring ahead or else you will be late for everything.

I'm absurdly thrilled by this vacuum. It really is the little things in life.

Does anybody have any swollen gland stories? I'm still obsessing as mine is still swollen and hurting. Please share.

weight gain

just a micro blog entry this morning to say that the weight gain from the damn Effexor is DRIVING ME CRAZY. My pants are tight - a constant reminder.

Sigh.

la de da de da da da

Sorry for the lack of posting. Had a bout of the insomnia again. Boom, I wake up at 3 or 4 a.m. Last night I fell back asleep, breathing out of my mouth (yuck) and dreamt that the actress Felicity Huffman was trying to give me her home phone number but it kept getting erased from my hand. Too bad.
I went to the doctor last night to get a higher dose of the non-working Effexor (except for the weight gain). My appointment was to have been at 5:50 p.m. and I walked in at 5:40 p.m. and saw a waiting room full of babies and parents. My doctor mainly delivers babies but I got in because I knew her sister. Well, I've now alienated her sister (not mentioned in earlier alienation blog) but still go to Ramona. So I walked in and because I blurt things out, I blurted out, "oh my fucking god." Under my breath, I hope.
So the receptionist, who was very calm despite the full waiting room and ringing phone, said I could come back in half an hour.
Off i went for donburi and came back. Waited 20 more minutes and boom saw Ramona, all tanned from another holiday to Mexico with her hubby and three children.
"Can you also check my gland?" asked I, it hurts and I am getting referred pain down my arm.
"yes, a bit swollen," said Ramona, "you've had a cold so that will go down eventually."
"You mean I have cancer?!"
"What," said Ramona, "wow, these pills really aren't working."
"did you know," I said to her back as she left the room, "that JFK Jr's cousin on his mother's side died of cancer just three weeks after John-John's plane went down? Tragic."
"Oh," said Ramona, "yeah, get that higher dosage ASAP."
Two minutes later I was out of there, walking past the screaming children.
But seriously, my doctor is very, very good. She often laughs at my jokes.
What else is happening? Have I mentioned that I've gained weight?
Also, in 8 days I will be 40.
I am back to being terrified of my boss and avoiding eye contact in a painfully obvious way. Sigh. Last week she helped me with my crossword and this week I'm looking down at the floor.
Oh, I also have referred pain to my shoulder. Poor John-John and John-John's cousin on his mother's side.
"You are obsessed with celebrity," said my work pal Kristina, a tad judgementally if you ask me. We had been discussing a former co-worker's lung cancer when for some reason I brought up John-John.
"I feel you are putting me down," I said to her, "and what with my swollen gland and referred pain I don't know if I can handle this in a mature fashion."

not a night owl

I've always wanted the ability to be a night owl. Alas, I am not. Even when I was a youngin, I couldn't cope much past 10. yes, yes, very sad I know.

Eeek - I just heard on the evening news that this 27-year-old man went to Costa Rica, broke his jaw, went to the hospital and woke up with a broken jaw still and missing a kidney! Thank God I decided not to go there alone. He just said he thinks it was stolen for selling on the black market. Doctors in San Jose claimed the accident (he fell down a ravine) caused damage to his internal organs. Scary. He was glad to be back in Canada, he said.

Back to night owl problems. Last night (March 18) my wonderful friends, Tracy and Michelle, planned my 40th birthday party. My birthday is March 30 but some friends are going away and I wanted them to be there, hence the early date party.

Good fun was had. Because I am a glass-half-empty type person, I kept saying 'where is this person' or "where is that person." That was lame of me. Anyway, there were about 15 people there. We ate, talked, laughed, ate, etc. A very cute newborn was even there. Gail's daughter, Lily, is beautiful! I often find newborns rather, um, weird looking but Lily was so cute! And so mellow. I held her when she was sleeping and my maternal instinct spilled all over the room. Tracy, who has her own 2.5 year old daughter and loves children, was in heaven. It was funny. She'd been in the kitchen but when she heard there was a baby she came rushing out. Next thing you know she was holding the baby. and then breastfeeding the baby (kidding).

I got some awesome, awesome presents. A Chapters gift certificate (do they sell porn there? joking) and an amazing gift certificate for a spa treatment at Bent Beauty, where I get my hair regularly dyed and removed. Very cool. Oh and these very funny therapy flashcards.

Because I am a glass-half-empty person, I've decided to be depressed about turning 40. I called my friend who is also turning 40 soon and said, "40, life is beginning." She said, "40, I'm thinking diabetes, cancer, weight gain." So she's transformed her eating habits, eating something called vegetables all of the time and has lost 12 pounds and feels much better. Vegetables? I'll have to look them up on the internet.

You'll all be happy to know that I'm going back to the doctor this very week to up my Effexor to see if that helps. Obsess, obsess.

Sigh. People, I'm 40. 40!!!!!!! And I live in a basement suite, no significant other and no work pension plan. on the plus side, I am going to Europe soon. Sigh. Fan base, I'm lonely. Lonely lonely lonely. So lonely that it creates a rather constant low level depressed tedium feeling. Always in my head. Yes, yes, I know I could be in a bad marriage or being shot at in Iraq. Totally get that.

Sigh.

a little hypochondria

I appear to be vaguely sick again. It started last night with a sort of sore throat and stuffed sinuses (like a stuffed nose, but higher up, that's my term anyway). Checking my often swollen gland on the left side of my neck, it is indeed, a bit swollen.
For goodness sakes, I was just sick two weeks ago. So I'm laying low today, but going out tonight. My constant illnesses cannot take over my life! In the meantime, I'll stay home and obsess.
Who gets sick two weeks apart? That's crazy.
I think I'll leave my self-imposed obsessing momentarily to go and get some vitamin C.
Oh and I'm kind of weak and tired too. And my leg muscles hurt. Odd.
A friend of mine has just found out she has lupus. I feel awful for her. That's a tough one. Luckily, it's a mild case so far so she can go on her 6-month trip to Europe starting next week.
We are similar in our anxiety and worrying and she said that we are the worst type of people to get lupus. Lupus is so vague - she doesn't know what is a "real" symptom and what is just a normal thing. Her rheumatologist basically told her to chill out when she came to him with a list of symptoms. He was very rude and condescending apparently. Yikes, poor friend of mine. Her glands swell wherever - apparently on the back of her neck! the other week, resulting in a very sore shoulder.
Now, now, I know I do not have lupus. I've decided I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or mono or Chronic sick syndrome. I may just have to be put into a medically-induced coma for awhile.
People, I'm near death.
Well, not really.
In other news, George Bush has decided to bomb the hell out of parts of Iraq, in order to drive out insurgents. This news is taken calmly, like it had just been announced that Bush is having orange juice today. There are worldwide protests today on the third anniversary of the invasion, including here in Vancouver.
"He has to bomb," says a friend of mine, "he has to get those insurgents out. No one else lives in that part of Iraq anyway." Aargh. Aargh. Maybe I'm naive. Maybe all of this bombing and killing and baby American soldiers going to Iraq makes sense. Imagine. Imagine, I don't know, Calgary being bombed. I'm not making my point too well here so I should probably stop. In the ultimate weird statement, I think that all of the people who agree with this war should have to send their children or siblings or grandchildren or cousins they really like to Iraq to live there. To fight there.
I will stop now.

the dentist called me

Yeah so the dental receptionist has been leaving messages for weeks. "You are due for a cleaning. Are you okay? Call us back?" I ignore these calls because I know when I go in that Dr. Selma Ramji, who is a wonderful dentist in North Vancouver, is going to nag me about the horrible state of my teeth and how I need more crowns and blah blah. Unfortunately, my work insurance only covers 50% of crowns and I need about four. also, there would be further nagging about my ice chewing habit. (um, obsession).

So this afternoon I'm walking to the skytrain about 5:10 p.m. Ring, goes the phone. "Hello?" Well, it's Dr. Ramji herself.

"Why do you want me to come in?" I ask, all suspicious, "are you actually a cult?"

No, says Dr., you just need a cleaning, come on in, says she.

No, I say petulantly.

Why not?

You'll nag me.

I won't nag you. Let's book an appointment.

Ok, I'll call back in a few days.

No, let's book it now.

Okay, okay.

April 22nd at noon.

She's good, that Dr. Ramji.

Shameer can testify at the hearing

At the hearing to prove that my new medication is not working. Aaargh. Anyway, I switched from Paxil to Effexor a couple of weeks ago (thanks, Dr. Penner for the free starter samples) because Paxil has been ineffective for a few years for me now. Effexor I've heard great things about. Well, not great things in terms of weaning myself off of them (no need to send me scary links about that) but in terms of reducing anxiety and obsessive thinking.

Sigh. Luckily, I don't seem to have any of the nasty side effects either (except possibly weight gain). But I'm as obsessive as ever if not more. Back I go to the doctor.

Examples. Last night I had my friend Toastmaster Melanie over to watch a DVD, since I now have a DVD player, thanks to Shameer of London Drugs invaluable help. Well, sigh. We tried a few DVDs and they would start to work, and then the screen would go blank every four seconds or so for about six seconds. Melanie, being more patient than me, happily sat through Meet the Fockers this way. I freaked out and phoned Shameer three times at London Drugs and begged him to come over and fix this. He couldn't. Sigh. I obsessed about this all evening, making it unpleasant I'm sure for Toaster Melanie. I stayed up late obsessing. I couldn't sleep. I obsessed until I went to London Drugs and Shameer tested the player and it worked. He said to try plugging it directly through the TV and not the VCR. Uh huh. That worked.

Also, I am even more impatient with people. yeah, yeah, hard to believe. The London Drugs parking lot at Victoria and 41st is oddly shaped and small. This guy with a truck was sitting in the middle of the aisle and in backing up I bumped - bumped I tell you - into his bumper. He gets out.

"Oh get back in your truck,' say I, "it was just a bump and you have to move your truck." Honk, honk, honk.

Oh yeah, since I'm all edgy please do not comment natural health suggestions or the purity of the body thing. And yes, I know many, many different drugs must be tried.

Sigh, it is discouraging though. I finally got up the courage to switch little pills and no luck.

My, I just realize that I have exposed my anti-depressant taking to my fan base. You must be stunned.

Oh and um - as of tomorrow - 17 days until I turn 40!

Lest you think I am merely a bundle of anxiety and obsessive thinking, I do still enjoy a good situation comedy. The L-Word is driving me crazy, because they've turned Tina into a straight cow from hell, they are killing Dana and Moira cannot act her way out of a transgendered paper bag. I need to find a new soap opera to obsess about. Remember Dallas? That was a classic. And Knots Landing? My god I worshiped that show. Worshipped it. And the actor who played Karen's son, Eric, died on Dec. 5, 1990 in a car accident in L.A. Very sad that. They had a reunion recently and botox on the women was painfully apparent. Poor Joan Van Ark. Hollywood just tosses women away after 40 and certainly after 50. Sigh.
I also liked Falcon Crest and Trapper John MD, which wasn't a soap but kind of. And remember St. Elsewhere?
So there is joy in a good TV show. The West Wing is back tonight after a few weeks away. I am all giggly about that.
I've also, I'm ashamed to admit, been watching America's Next Top Model. If ever they do "Canada's next mediocre sarcastic, angry, often bored and lonely, cynical, yet vaguely humourous 40-year-old single women," I'm going to try out.
Or perhaps, "Canada's top basement suite dweller" That would work too.
Please, fan base, a man, find me a man. I'm not too proud to beg.

Europe

So I have holidays for three weeks starting May 1. Where should I go? I wondered. If I stay home and sit in my basement suite that will be bad, bad, bad. Wait for a moment and picture me sitting at home for three weeks. Wait for it. There you go.
I want to go somewhere where I know someone and $$$$ is a bit limited. I would love to go to Costa Rica but alone it just takes too much effort.
So I'm going to London (England, not Ontario)! I have an Irish friend living there attending teachers' training. She'll be busy, I'll sleep on her floor. May 1-May 17. I'm going to spend part of that time in a part of Europe I haven't been before (I've been to London, Prague, Scotland, Ireland, France, Italy), possibly Krakow for a few days. Ryan Air flies there cheap cheap cheap.
So I think I'm excited. I've been to London before but it was only for four days and I was sick for three of them. I will DEFINITELY go to a West End play.
Sigh. I'm not crazy about travelling though. The endless airport experiences (and I'm flying Air Transat! eeek!), the jetlag, the exhaustion, the flight. I'm flying overnight on the way there which is better because my body may just sleep a bit. But then you get there and you are all tired for a few days. Nonetheless, I'm keen because I LOVE EUROPE.

the furnace

The furnace, which is in my basement suite living space, is making a HUGE noise, blocking out any possibility of coherent thought. My landlord is right on it though, must have heard it from upstairs too. But the furnace guy can't come until tomorrow morning. Yikes. It woke me up last night, sounded like a plane taking off. Now it sounds like, I don't know, a plane taking off constantly in my very own home.
Hence I'm exhausted and edgy because of the NOISE. Luckily I'll be working all afternoon but then I can return to the NOISE. I even jammed earplugs in my ears trying to sleep and it didn't really help.
I'm going to try and sleep some more now, instead of jogging.
Hopefully more coherence tomorrow.

meatpie and scalloped potatoes

I work with a wonderful person named Glenda who deserves her own blog entry, so here it is.

I first met Glenda almost two years ago at PGIC, where we started about roughly the same time. My first impression of Glenda was of a quiet, gentle woman in her early 50s who knew her beginner ESL stuff. She'd been assigned to teach to two or three very low English Saudi Arabian students.

I got to know her a bit then but soon enough she was off with her husband to another country, I think ,and came back a few months later. I got to know Glenda better. I heard about how a sleep apnea machine has transformed her life and put the pink back in her cheeks. She did seem more awake now actually. When we sit in the lunch room I discovered that Glenda, while quiet, was sharp and subversive. She'd say nothing and suddenly, boom, bam, boom, out would come a comment that made everyone laugh. Uh huh, I love a little subversion. When a colleague was going on about how her boyfriend had bought her some lovely purple eyeshadow, I sat a bit stupified.
"My husband has never bought me makeup," said Glenda. And then, a few beats later, she giggled and said, "I'm going to buy my boyfriend some makeup." Hee hee.
Her 23-year-old son, Geoff, worked briefly at PGIC last summer. An absurdly handsome kid, all of the (female) students and teachers loved him. He was a bit embarrassed at first by the mother-son connection and hoped people didn't know.
"You must be Geoff," I said to him on his first day, "Glenda's son, right?" His face fell a bit. But over time, I think Geoff realized how cool his mother was and how much we all loved her. "Glenda," he'd say. "Glenda?" we asked. Apparently he's called her that since he was three.
Glenda's husband is an excellent example of the species as well. A renowned physics professor at UBC, he is down-to-earth and soft-spoken. The other night I went with them to a lecture-thingy at UBC. Married for like 30 years I think, he put his arm around her. I got a little verklempt. "That is so sweet," I said to Glenda. "Well," she stammered, "affection is - what's the point without it?"

A few weeks ago Glenda and me and a couple of my friends went to see the Vagina Monologues. She laughed in spite of herself. "I can't believe you brought me to this," said she, laughing.

Before the UBC lecture thingy, Glenda invited me for dinner. She'd brought meatpie to a Christmas work potluck thingy and I'd loved it. "And can we also have scalloped potatoes?" I inquired. Sure enough - meatpie, scalloped potatoes and lemon squares. And she gave me most of the rest to take home.

I think Glenda makes people feel a bit calmer at work. While Glenda likes to talk to herself and appear flustered, papers everywhere, she's got it all together. She is now teaching students how to teach children. She's made not only puppets but a puppet stage out of cardboard and a few pieces of tape. With people photocopying, lesson planning, looking harried around her, she will begin to sing a children's song she is going to teach her students. Soon enough, people are singing along.

Glenda, like the song says, you make the world a little bit brighter.

alright, I admit it

I'm all bitter at all of my female friends (well, most) having significant others. Sigh. And they have to spend so much time with their significant others too!
'So," I'll say, "what you doing tonight?'
Well," say they, the generic they, the royal they, "My awesome lover and I are going out right down the street from you."
"Great, can I come?" I ask.
"No, no, of course not, my awesome lover and I must be alone together and then go have great sex."
"Oh," say I.
Sigh. No matter how enlightened a society we claim to be, the third wheel can only be a third wheel sometimes really.
Yeah, yeah, I'm feeling sorry for myself. yup. Well, I've been near death for a few days now so I haven't exercised,, done the relaxing yoga (hah!) and spent way too much time alone. This doesn't help my bitterness.
Now don't get me wrong. Obviously, were I ever to finally get a significant other (Barbra Streisand's song, "I Finally Found Someone" leaps to mind), I would do the same damn thing and there would be I told you so's all around. Fair enough.
But sigh.
Another example.
Me: "Hey, wanna hang out tonight?"
Generic they: "nope, my awesome lover and I have to go out with our great children and have a great and fun time together. But how's a week from Tuesday? You can come over then and observe our happy family in all its glory. We'll sit you at the child's table."
Sigh again.
I'm suddenly picturing you partnered up people commenting on how it is also nice to be single. Yeah, please don't so much do that.
I'm thinking again that I need to do something radical in my life to get it kickstarted. A few years ago I got my butt going by doing some travelling and moving out of a yucky roommating situation. I don't know. Maybe I need to move to another city or something. Or country.
Whatever. People, I need a little support here. Not in a we feel sorry for her way but in a let's third wheel her more often kind of a way. Or find me a man so that I too can have a life.
This especially self-pitying blog spot has been brought to you by boredom, vague illness and such like that there.

Day Four: I'm still sick

I'm still sick! Dammit. I popped into work yesterday for my afternoon class and then this morning, when I was supposed to go in for a full day, I just couldn't. Sigh.
It's odd. I just feel weak and tired and weak and crappy. You know? oh and lightheaded.
Because I am a hypochondriac and because the phone nurse told me to, I went to the WORST DROP-IN CLINIC IN VANCOUVER. Around 10th and Commercial.
I should have known when the nurse looked bored and talked all grumpy.
'Have a seat."
"Come in."
I heard a poor patient trying to make conversation with her.
"Boy am I sick,' said he, obviously looking for comfort, "I bet you get a lot of sick people in here now eh? I even had the flu shot - must be a mutant virus."
"Yep," said nurse and walked out of the room.
The doctor was no better.
"You have a virus," he said to me. "But, but . . " I admittedly blathered, "have I mentioned I feel weak and tired and lightheaded and crappy . . ."
"You have a virus," said he and sent me on my way after a cursory look down throat and face feel.
Sigh. I am not a good sit-at-homer. Tomorrow I just have a three-hour afternoon meeting, maybe I'll drag myself to that. Seriously now.
Sigh. mommy.

vaguely coherent entry

Hopefully at least vaguely coherent. i'm still sick, but I'm going to go into work for my one! class today - only a few hours. I've had enough of lazing about. My ears are totally blocked just now and I feel weaker than a weak thing.
Nonetheless.
I just discovered last night a hypochondriac's dream! "I wish," I was saying to friend Tracy, who is also sick, must have been caught at the same time at the Vagina Monologues, "there was a number I could call to talk all about my sickness instead of having to actually go to a walk-in clinic."
"Of course there is," says Tracy, "the 24-hourBCHealthGuide NurseLine.
And sure enough, on the back of the health guide is the number! 604-215-4700. Oh my god! I say goodbye to Tracy and call. After being on hold for 20 minutes here comes this nurse on the line! A file is open on me - care card number, address, etc. Well, too bad because that will keep me from calling 8 times a day/night. Oh well.
"Is it bacterial or viral?" I ask the nurse. We chat, she gives advice (ok, all of which I find in the guide later, but still). But I also feel tired, weak I tell her. Lethargic? she asks, checking her computer. Okay, I say. Oh, says she. That means you must go right now, RIGHT NOW to the doctor. What? Yes, lethargy without much fever means RIGHT NOW to the doctor.
"Oh," say I, discomfited. "So what are you going to do,?" she asks. "Go to the walk-in clinic?" "It's best," says she.
ugh. That wasn't helpful. I look up lethargic in the guide and slam it shut. I probably should have mentioned that I hadn't really eaten all day and had just slept. hmmm. I ignored the advice.
Go now and rent or buy the British version (the original!) version of The Office. Oh my god amazing.
Okay, I'm going into work early. I do better with a little human contact. Plus, this is the oasis between lethargy and laryngitis. And, near my work downtown, is a hospital and a walk-in clinic. Phew.