bored coma, banks without pounds, savage chickens

people. I'm in a vague bored coma. I have been sitting around since Wednesday at 4:30 p.m. and will continue to do so until my wonderful friend Michelle picks me up to go to the airport late Sunday night.
Bored coma. I realize that this sitting around is important to help me recover more quickly and I have been reading, doing laundry, packing etc. But still. I get all of this nervous energy and it's all not good.
I did go to the bank today, TD Bank to be exact and asked for some British pounds and Euros.
"We don't carry those," said the bank teller.
"But you are a bank."
"Yes, we are."
"Do any of the TD branches have these things called pounds?"
"Probably the downtown branch but it's not open today."
Oh.
"But you are a bank."
'Yes we are."
Off I went to the icky MoneyMart and was only charged - to my great surprise $1.99 to get some pounds. I wanted 80 pounds and it cost $169. So slightly over double. Gulp. There were all these people at MoneyMart being charged to get cash advances on their pay cheques.

I then went to Safeway and bought a Mother's Day card as I will be in London on Mother's Day and some water. Always remember to bring your own bottled water on flights. Dehydration can be a big problem! So doing those two things left me exhausted. So I returned to my bored coma.

Oh and check out - www.savagechickens.com - awesome chicken cartoons. Trust me, read it. Giggle and laugh.

Please continue to think of me in my bored coma and as I go on my trip, swollen glanded and near death. Fan base, where are you? Few people have been leaving comments lately.

Bored


Coma

Bored coma. Again, no offense to people in real comas.

i think i will live

i think i will live.

near death flu

fan base - i'm crawling out of bed to let you know that I have the worst flu I've had in years. Fever, aches, chills, weakness, sinus crap, exhaustion, sore throat.
i'm supposed to fly out to London on a non-refundable ticket on Sunday night. Not too sure. Advice?
have i mentioned i feel like warmed up death?

mommy!

Sigh. I have parental issues. Who doesn't, you ask. who doesn't.

No need to go into the who what where why how and when.

My parents live in Winnipeg and for almost 20 years I've lived in Vancouver, since I was, well, 20. I went from overly needing my mother (mommy!) to becoming completely detached.

My mother is 75 and grew up on a farm in small town Manitoba with 13 brothers and sisters. She had to drop out of school in grade 11 to care for the younger ones. When she was in her 20's she moved to Winnipeg and married my father when she was 29. I have an amazing old black and white photo of my mother in a bar when she was 28 - the hairstyles are fascinating and my mother looks incredibly like my sister.

My mother desperately wants to be close to me and I shut her down at every opportunity. I don't call, etc. She and my father have been very, very generous through the years financially to both my sister and I. My father, for whatever reason, is not able to have any kind of an emotional relationship with his children. My mother, however, desperately craves it. My sister, who lives in Ottawa, has improved her relationship with my mother over the years, primarily due to my sister's wee daughter.

Because of the wall between my mother and I, our phone calls, when they happen, are incredibly awkward and guilt driven. "call more, Karen, why don't you come see us and blah blah blah. I haven't been to Winnipeg since 1999 and I haven't seen my parents in a couple of years. Time could be short, I know.

Tonight my mother called and she just sounds - old. Her voice comes and goes - some kind of weird laryngitis of late, she has incredible pain in her arm and has to wait months for surgery, she has to have an ultrasound on her neck for some kind of noise the doctor heard (maybe an artery that is blocked he said) and some other kind of problem with her, um, private bathroom number 2 parts. All of this requires a lot of waiting for doctors' calls and I imagine, sitting around worrying. My father I think needs a cataract operation.

"you never call," says she. and I jump down her throat and say you are never sarcastic or guilt Sherri (my sister) why just me?

This hurts her of course and she changes the subject until we come back to it again. It all ends awkwardly.

I know I know x 800 million I know. I am honestly, honestly not behaving in this immature fashion to be mean or because I'm hanging out to old things. It is so difficult I don't even know how to express it or to make it make any sense. My guilt is the only thing bigger than my anxiety and at least I have the fat-inducing effexor for that!

I don't know. I just needed to vent. Thanks for reading.

St. Jude's Hospital boo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo

Watching TV tonight, I had to watch the St. Jude's Hospital special. St. Jude's was founded by the late actor Danny Thomas, to help sick children and to research cures for their diseases. Sniffle already. It was a mini-telethon of sorts, with hosts like Alan Alda, Reba McEntire (I love her show, Reba, by the way), Amy Grant and of course, Marlo Thomas. They profiled many children and all had aggressive forms of cancer. A lot of the children profiled died, including the cutest little toddler named Ben and a 12-year-old girl who'd battled cancer for 8 of her 12 years. She excitedly talked about going to Rome with her mother when she turned 16. "She never got the chance to see Rome," said Amy Grant. Aaargh . . . and the tears were flowing.

There was lots of hope too - like types of cancer that 40 years ago had a 4% cure rate now have a 96% cure rate thanks to St. Jude's. No child is turned away, even if their families can't pay. Sniffle again.

While I was watching that I also flicked to "Life's Little Miracles," which profiles children coming to Toronto's Hospital for Sick Children. Luckily, no children on that ever die and some have just minor problems.

And finally, I also watched (all three programs at the same time you understand) Deal or No Deal. A guy proposed to his girlfriend and she said yes and then he won $301,000. That happiness lightened the load of the other two shows.

Speaking of wretched Hollywood information - check out the Smoking Gun website (www.smokinggun.com) There's a 17-page affidavit from Denise Richards about her soon to be ex-hubby, Charlie Sheen. He's a horrible abuser addicted to drugs, porn and gambling. He apparently threatened her life if she revealed any of this. Tragedy as they have two little baby girls.

Wow, I need my own reality show life. Luckily, I'm just over a week away from my two-week holiday in London and Paris, where I will invade the homes of and catch up with friends Donna, Dale and Pinder. I met Dale and Pinder while travelling in Europe two and a half years ago and Pinder, a Brit, now lives in the centre of Paris. Can't beat that. Dale, a South African young fellow, saved me from being ignored by the all young ones at the Generator Hostel in London. I was on the last leg of an 8-week trip and got quite a bad flu while at that hostel. He made sure I was fed and watered. Nice bloke and apparently his wild partying ways have settled down considerably so it will be good to see him. Donna I know from Vancouver when she lived here and I stayed with her and her parents in Ireland when I was travelling. She lives in Putney now in London. I'm looking forward to all of this and plan on taking day trips to Bath, Cambridge, Versailles and Orleans. Excellent.

I'm not a stellar traveller and I find the plane ride draining and annoying (but who doesn't) This time I've treated myself to a neck pillow so that should help. It's an overnight flight on the way there so I'll pop a Tylenol PM, put on my sleep mask and ask to be left alone unless my help is needed in the cockpit. Since my crazy 8 weeks in Europe in November 2003, I'm a much more confident traveller, which for me is saying something. I know lots of people travel Europe, most at a much younger age than I did (I was a ripe old 37). But I did it on my own and managed not to kill or be killed. I always think of people who travel on their own as much more gutsy than going with a friend or partner, simply because it's you and no one else. I still remember landing in Prague after more than 14 hours of flying and changing planes, taking an hour or two to find the correct train to my hostel and then upon getting to the location - a small suburb of Prague - being completely lost and walking for 45 minutes in the late summer heat to finally find the hostel where scary looking men with bathrobes exposing hairy chests waited in the courtyard. Now that was a run-on sentence.

Who knew 8 weeks of travelling could make you so tired? It was an amazing experience but I've never been so happy to have my own bed and my own washer and dryer to do more than one load in. It's the small things. Last time I was in Paris I stayed at a really, really bad hostel with rats and no hot water in a seedy area, so that tempered my experience. This time, while Pinder's apartment is tiny and she shares it with a French boyfriend, it will be so much better. Just knowing someone knows you in the country you are in is helpful, I find. Pinder is a wonderful I think 27-year-old young woman who is fun to hang out with. All should be fun.

Now, fan base, no one has been commenting on my blog of late. Because I need constant reinforcement that people are actually reading this, feel free to comment on anything - your travel experiences if you like, especially if you've been somewhere interesting and unique. I know for England and Europe - been anywhere else? Please comment, I'm insecure.

get it together, Nnenna

Further to America's Next Top Model. So Nnenna, phew, did not get booted off tonight. It was close though. Her boyfriend, John, came for a visit and just gave her more stress. Not good. Poor Jade. No one believed her when she was crying. The opposite of arrogance is not crying and submission, noted Tyra, I forgot what she said the opposite was. Diarrhea? No, that wasn't it. The British bald judge asked Nnenna if her boyfriend was distracting her. Twiggy wanted to know if she would be willing to give him up for a modelling career. "Oh, screw off, " said Nnenna. No, actually she didn't say that. Go, Nnenna! Don't crack, baby!

I'm trying to articulate better what I referred to in the previous blog about this show and its ultimate corrupting influence. Sigh. You know what I mean. It helps to encourage and build up this pseudo-reality that is North America and Western Europe. Beauty, thinness, blah, blah, blah, blah. We are so inundated already with this crap and we live in a bubble of this crap. And, yup, I'm right in the crap watching it myself and swimming like a maniac so I don't get fat. It's also to stay in shape and to work off anxiety but a big part is I don't want to get fat. People I work with, women of course, go on these cleanses partly to feel better but mostly to not get fat. Hell, I'd do the cleanse if I weren't so afraid of putting further foreign substances in my body. So you get, my wee fanbase, that I don't think I'm out of the bubble or better than it. No, no, no, I'm stuck in it too. If you cut me, do I not bleed People magazine? Of course I do. I know more about John Stamos' time on General Hospital than I do the GNPs of African nations.

But it's just escapism! I scream while looking for the remote control. Sigh. This topic has been debated by people far better than me, with far better analysis. Can I watch something like ANTM and not be influenced at all by it? My friend Tracy finds people that I would say are traditionally unattractive, she finds those people attractive. It's just something that is real for her. I admire that and wonder was she born with that ability or did some part of her brain wade through all the hypocrisy? I'll go call her now and ask her.

Now The Apprentice is above all of this critiquing. That show is sacred. I like watching people at work and then them being humiliated. That is good clean fun.

Suri = Surrey?

I seem to be having a little gastro-intestinal distress tonight and I feel rather crappy. I think it's either: 1) Norwalk virus 2) a deadly allergic reaction (I am a little itchy) 3) a physical reaction to the birth of Tom and Katie's baby, Suri. This name apparently has some beautiful translations in other exotic languages. It's pronunciation, unfortunately, is the same as Surrey, which in British Columbia anyway translates into a crappy, trailer trash place to live.

Katie apparently had an epidural (according to Entertainment Tonight). I'm frankly surprised Tom allowed this, given that he is her guru and mind controller. Young Katie has also now renounced Catholicism and embraced Tommy's Scientology.

Is Tom gay or not? Is this a sham or not? Oddly, I really, really would like to know. Katie certainly looks glassy-eyed and vacant in most pictures, which isn't actually saying much when you are referring to a Hollywood celebrity. But still.

Brooke Shields has popped her child on the same day and the irony is enough to give me further gastro-intestinal distress.

Also, women around the world have also popped their children on this very same day.

Sigh. I'm ashamed to admit that I bought the latest People magazine because it promised to tell me how mind control is going for Katie. Of course, it did not provide any new information. Shocking. Oooh - I just heard on Access Hollywood that Katie bought a $200 diaper bag. Perhaps it doubles as a Scientology silent birth pillow.

America's Next Top Model is about to start. I'm in a work pool and have my money on Nnenna. She wasn't my first choice, I think Leslie or Mollie Sue were but they are both gone, gone, gone. I think Nnenna won't win though, she's hogging the phone, she's too worried about her abusive boyfriend who keeps calling and while referring to himself in the third person, tells Nnenna that she is being selfish. Shrug it off, Nnenna! I could win $80. Go Nnenna. Tonight should be exciting as one of the contestants is confronted with possible anorexia! Who'd a thunk? Well, it's true that Furonda looks like a skinny black man in drag.

ANTM - I never used to watch this and now I'm hooked. Shameful, shameful. Tyra Banks has done well for herself. She took a field of work where NO brain power is required and created a show where it makes it appear that quite a lot of brain power is needed. It's almost convincing too until you snap out of it long enough to realize that no, it's not true. Perhaps she can do another show - "America's next top person who sits and watches soap operas!" "America's next top people who dig a hole!" "America's next top people who work for the government in the employment insurance office!" Endless possibilities. It would all be just good fun but of course it further drills into the public perception that modelling has any redeeming value in society. That whole beauty thing. blah blah blah.

Oh no, Nnenna! Nnenna!!!! that damn boyfriend.

thank you, parental units

I would like to thank my parental units for forcing me to take swimming lessons as a child. This has prevented me from being afraid of the water and now I, as an adult, enjoy swimming. I have a friend who is terrified of swimming so I know for what I speak.

I'm not a very good swimmer and I am terrified of diving but other than that, it's a great experience. Because of my knee problems (I went to the massage therapist today and she noted that my kneecap doesn't even move on my left knee) I have decided to take up swimming again. It is so gentle on the joints and I love that. I went to Renfrew Pool near my house and swam for almost an hour. It wasn't too crowded and I met a lovely older Chinese lady. She commented on how wonderful swimming was. Well, that opened the floodgates and I proceeded to tell her all about my knee problems, ending the diatribe with, "and my kneecap doesn't even move!" It was at that point I realized that her English was limited and that she didn't understand a word that I was saying. She did encourage me to buy some goggles and a swim cap. Will do. She swims for an hour four times a week and loves it. So, while this swimming will take more prep and post time, I'm going to try it out a couple of times a week and to use the stationary bike maybe once a week. I must adapt around my injury! I feel so buoyant when I swim and that's kinda cool. After the first twenty minutes or so I really get into it. I am woman, hear me swim.

Today was the first day of my four-day long weekend. So far, I am surviving.

All you swimmers out there, any advice would be appreciated.

brain still basically in a drained mode

A 41-year-old Asian student from the school I teach at died yesterday. I think it's okay to write about this as I am being vague about the school and about the student. I can say that he apparently had a heart attack of some kind. I didn't know the student, never taught him. Our school is big enough for me never to have encountered him, except perhaps bumping elbows in the hall.

This, of course, was a big shock to everyone, particularly the teachers who taught him and the students who had been in the same class with him over 3 months or more. He apparently was married with three children. One of the cultural facilitators had to phone his wife in her country, to tell her in her own language that her husband was gone. I can't imagine.

Everyone is shaken up. One of his teachers suggested a plaque or something to honour him and I think that's a good idea. Imagine sending your husband off to learn English in Canada and then this. His family I believe was going to join him here in the summer.

I'm not sure how to transition from such a serious topic. It's not really possible. I need to work on transitions, so says my boss in my evaluation.

I have to give up jogging for sure this time. Last night I only jogged for half an hour and my left knee is in bad, bad shape. Every once in awhile I get shooting pain up and down it and it's even harder to bend that leg. It's always been somewhat hard to bend it and I look like I'm limping. But now it's even worse. Sigh. It's hard because jogging is the ONLY exercise I've ever found that calms me, that somehow enables me to spill out some of my anxiety. It's also so easy - I just change into shorts, pop on my runners and head out two minutes to Trout Lake. I'm so stubborn that I may try again after the knee stops throbbing. Bad, bad, I realize. Swimming and stationery bicycling would also be good, but they take more planning and energy than I seem to have after a day of work. I'd buy a bike but I'm just too darned intimidated to ride on the streets of Vancouver. Several of my co-workers bike to work.

The Apprentice was two hours last night - yee haw! One thing they had to market was the new 7-11 sandwich - a mix of pizza and a sandwich. Two slices of pizza with meat in between. Odd and weird and kinda sick. So there were these "sophisticated" contestants saying, "yum, this sandwich is so good." Look for it soon in your local 7-11.

braindrained

I don't know, I haven't felt like blogging lately. My brain feels drained or non-creative or something.

A blah blah type feeling.

Today I went for my wonderful facial and pedicure, from a gift certificate given to me for my birthday from some very kind friends. Thank you, very kind friends.

The whole thing lasted more than three hours and was interesting I must say. I've never had a facial in my 40 years of having a face. Do those without a face get to have a facial? Probably not. Sad that.

Well, there were creams and lotions and microderm thing that burned and towels and compresses. The best part though was when the esthetician couldn't believe that I was 40! No way, she said several times, in a non-condescending tone so that I believed her. Later, though, when she was sloughing dead skin off of my face and showing it to me (ewww) she asked if I was I smoker (I'm not). Apparently I have the dead skin of a smoker.

The microderm thing made me go ow, ow, OW, OW, OW!!!! OW!!!! And finally, ow.

Just for good measure, I then said, ow.

There are parts of a facial that are very relaxing and parts that are ow. It was a deep cleansing apparently. I think right down to my skull. Excellent.

The esthetician and I got to talking and I got lots of good scoop on the salon. I feel badly for my esthetician, suffice it to say she is definitely not being treated well. A single mother, she doesn't just have the choice to say go to hell and leave. Estheticians have confided in me before as they ripped off my eyebrows and painted my toenails. And my toenails are now a lovely shade of purple I will have you know.

My hair salon/esthetician are in Yaletown, at a hip, hip salon. I would never darken its door except that my great hairdresser works there. She recommended the great esthetician. Everybody else is too hip to be alive. There's lots of music, young people in size 0 pants and cool clientele. I don't fit in. My hairdresser is now on maternity leave and I have a free eyebrow wax left. I'll go for that and then not go back until hairdresser comes back. I know, i know, it makes me sound all insecure, fair enough. But really, you know those cool hip Beverly 90210, O.C. shows that are on? That's what this place is like. Hmmm. Eeek, that sounds all judgemental. I've judged my hair salon! but again, definitely not my hairdresser. She rocks. Same with the esthetician.

Just got back from Superstore with Tracy. At one point I seem to recall yelling across the store,"I'm not here for you to spend hours buying condoms!" But then I'm just jealous. Tracy's wee daughter Zoe now has to be on a gluten free/wheat free diet, due to her chronic diarrhea. Tracy spent a long time trying to find enough interesting food for Zoe to eat. Poor Zoe.

Poor Tracy, she had to put up with Superstore, no gluten or wheat and an exceptionally whiny me. God love her.

it may drip men, but I still don't like it

My engaged friend Julie left a comment that Toronto is "dripping men" and basically that I should get the heck out there. Now, on a side note, I know Julie through Tanya. Tanya is a friend I haven't talked to in two years, someone I apparently alienated and was mentioned in the people I have alienated blog. Fortunately, I haven't alienated Julie. Well, we did have a huge argument a few years ago that ended with me saying "oh yeah!" and storming out of her place like on a soap opera, but later we made nice-nice. I've always wanted to storm out of someone's place like they do on my favourite shows. Do you ever notice that on TV dramas people often make a big speech, the person they are making the speech to just kind of stares blankly, and then the speechmaker just walks the heck out? Ever notice that? and they often leave food uneaten too. What a waste.

Back to Toronto. Julie moved there two years ago and within 2 hours I think, had met up with her now fiance. I believe she met him on the street. True enough the only men I meet on the streets of Vancouver are, well, men who live on the streets of Vancouver.

Julie has mentioned a few times that I should get out there to T.O. And I would be much closer to my wee niece in Ottawa and my aged parents in Winnipeg. True, true. But, but, I've been to Toronto and I just don't like it.

First, it reminds me too much in weather of my 20 years in Winnipeg. Cold, cold, cold and snow and dirty snow and slippery and cold and blah blah blah. Blah.

Blah.

Blah.

Second, it was just flat and boring. It wasn't even like a Canadian version of New York City. Now NYC I could live in, I couldn't afford it and couldn't work there but I could live there. Not so Toronto. I've been spoiled by Vancouver. I need ocean, mountains, seawall, etc.

Although it is true that the man scene in Vancouver is abysmal. But I think even if I went to Toronto I wouldn't necessarily meet a man. Julie has never had any problems in that area, even when she lived here. She had many a short and long term relationship while here. JULIE, I MISS YOU!! I haven't seen her since her 40th birthday over a year ago. Her fiance told her to pack her bags, he was going to take her somewhere warm. And he took her to, well, Vancouver. She recovered from the shock in time to enjoy her 40th birthday lunch with 27 of her ex-boyfriends and me.

Julie was always very good for me. "Karen," she'd say, well, whine or something, I can't pin down the proper word, "Karen!" She introduced me to the great soup place in the Bay downtown. I haven't been there since she left come to think of it. I believe that they've named a soup after her. I think "Bean with Bacon" is now simply called, "Julie."

I'm off on a Julie tangent. I think she'll be thrilled as she seems to think more than 5.2 people read my blog on a regular basis. Perhaps she will print it out and have it framed to sit over her mantelpiece. Send it to me, Julie, and I'll autograph it. I hear her voice in my head, "Karen," she'd say, usually with exasperation, a real emphasis on the first syllable, her voice going to such a high pitch that only dogs could hear it.

Oh my god, I haven't mentioned my Effexor fat in this blog entry yet. Effexor fat. There, phew.

In other news, I am having my annual teaching observation on Thursday morning. Colleague and friend Kristina was evaluated today and did very well. But then Kristina does most everything well. She's a hot mama, skinny, young (31), great hair, speaks 3 languages, is a calm sort, has volunteered in Africa, has a good clothing sense, is happily married to a tall guy with a cute accent, enjoys and does yoga well, is loved by all of the students, is not limited by her fatal allergy to nuts and avocado, and while left-handed like myself, has good handwriting.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't want her to do badly on her evaluation, I just know mine will meander down a different path. It has before. Aargh. Aargh. The students like me well enough in general. By the same complaining token, I also can't get 5s for the life of me. 5 is the highest score the students can give you on evaluations. I get some fives, but also some 3s, the odd 2, sometimes a 1. Thank god for the union. At another school I worked at, the evaluations were mathematically calculated and if you averaged below a certain number, you got hauled into the office for a meeting. Aargh. Some teachers get 5s consistently. How, I ask you, how do they do it?

Okay, enough obsessing.

In other news, I enjoy a good meatloaf.

the internet: friend and foe

I do enjoy the internet. Hell, it allows me to publish my random thoughts on a regular basis without having to use a stamp or spend any money. Nice that.
I can also look up anything I ever wanted to know about any celebrity who ever lived, like ever. With my Hollywood love/hate thing, that's great. (Glen Scarpelli anyone)
I can also read about the weird orphan diseases I love to read about and the personal stories of the people struck with them.
I also like reading about people who got the hell out of Mormon dodge, that's fun too.
Fascinating.
I play hearts, pool and such like that there. Sadly, my Yahoo Chat doesn't seem to work on my lame computer anymore, but I used to be able to chat to the whole world. Well, okay, part of that wasn't the healthiest of things for me so it's probably good that that doesn't work anymore.
Uh - the bad.
I don't have a porn addiction but those who do of course would find the internet an amazingly horrible thing.
I'm more thinking about the obsessive research I do on possible medical conditions and medication I am taking.
Google - "Effexor, bad side effects and Effexor, getting off of," Go on - I dare you. Those sites kept me busy for 2-15 hours. I'm thinking of cancelling my trip to Europe and just reading every one of the 8 million articles about this. And that's just Effexor! Lordy lord.
The other week I googled, "Swollen glands that are sore - what could that mean? That was also informative.
Perhaps I should try "effexor and swollen glands."
I realize that my blog has been rather obsessively focussed on Effexor and weight gain the last several entries. So, you could also google "Effexor and weight gain." Or how about "bloggers who don't obsess on one bloody topic." Googling will find you anything. If you google me, as I'm sure you've all done obsessively, you'll find that I am apparently a doctor in Toronto. Neat.
I must go now and mark 16 journals from my students.
As you were.
And Julie, I didn't know you got engaged! How exciting! Where/when will you be getting married? I'm going to google: "people who take effexor, can they still go to weddings?"
Carry on.

various blather

So, in my continuing obsessive effort to stop the mountain of weight gain from the non-working Effexor, I headed over to Mark's Pharmacy, at 41st and Cambie. On their radio show on 1410 CFUN (radio station to my out of town fans) they are very knowledgeable, kind. Slightly less in person, but oh well.
I left with a sleep mask (for my upcoming trip to Europe) and Vita Essence's Nopal Shape.
"Fat absorbing fibre. 100% natural Nopal Cactus Fibre" The cover of the brochure about it has two thin people in their 20s frolicking through the ocean in bikinis. They are smiling and holding hands. Excellent.I'm supposed to take it with meals and several hours before the evil Effexor or else it will absorb the effects of said Effexor. So I'll see how that works. I'm also going to go back to the doctor and say, oddly, I'm obsessing more.

What else? Obsessing about my now too tight jeans takes a lot of mental energy really. However, today, I got a FREE cut and colour from my hairdresser as a birthday present. She's quite short and quite pregnant and therefore only has two weeks to go before she goes off to have her baby in two months. She will return part-time, says she, at the end of September. I miss her already. Ever the excellent salesperson, my hairdresser also was able to get my excellent birthday spa certificate at the salon where she works. "You are an excellent salesperson,' I said to her. So next Saturday, I have a three-hour appointment for a facial and then a pedicure. I told the spa woman that I wouldn't be buying any of the products, as I recalled last time I had an express pedicure with her, she pushed her products and seemed disappointed when I turned them all down and then the pedicure went really, really fast.
"Oh," said she. "Oh," said my hairdresser when I told her what I had said, "you shouldn't have said that." Oops. The facial should be excellent and I'm looking forward to it. They do push their products a bit too much for my taste at this salon, but I realize that that is their job. And my hairdresser did just give me an excellent free cut and colour today.
What else is happening in my Effexor-fat world? There was an article on Jennifer Aniston in Vogue at the salon. The title was something like "the face of courage," in reference to her. "I don't want people to feel sorry for me," said she. Yikes.
Finally, I'm going to hear a physics talk tonight but only becaus there is meatpie involved first.