untwist the knickers, please

Well, sigh. I'm feeling mighty anxious I must say. And the more I try to control it, the worse it gets. I know that but I still try to control it. Go figure.

Yes, the moving thing is probably making my nervous system all a twitter.

Today I got all upset with the students because they were being ridiculous about something (really) but it was an overreaction and I apologized. In any other job, an apology would be accepted and life would move on. At this job, I have to worry about comment cards and such things like that. Sigh. Everybody's knickers are all in a twist.
Let me tell you my gastroinstestinal system is not happy. Yes, I know, too much information.
In other news, I see that Warren Jaffe, head of a polygamist cult thing in Utah, has finally been captured. Winston Blackmore, his competitor of sorts, heads the polygamist cult in Bountiful, B.C. For some reason this group doesn't get arrested and its members live largely undisturbed. They are said to be quite closed and don't talk to others outside of the community. Fascinating. I've seen Blackmore interviewed and while, you know, his beliefs are disturbing to say the least, he has this odd peace about him and charisma. Don't worry, I don't plan on going up to Bountiful. I'd have to be about 25 years younger than I am. The women seem to dress in these rather bland dresses with bonnets. Blackmore considers himself above the law and hates Jaffe, who he considers an evil man.
Of course, it is always the women who suffer in these things, although I imagine some of them don't see it that way. They pop out the babies and keep house. During the Fifth Estate interview a few months ago, Hanna Gartner asked Blackmore if he knew that two of his wives had married each other and were in a lesbian relationship. He said no and Gartner, a great journalist, looked at him in amazement. He loved talking about Jaffe with her, the idea being, I imagine, that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. So he seemed to feel Gartner and he could be on the same page. Hmmm. Hmmm.
When she asked about how the sex thing works with so many wives (6, I think) he took exception and asked about her sex life. Not easily rattled, Ms. Gartner.
I'm back to thinking that I need a new line of work. One without easily rattled students who pick up on the slightest of emotions. "They're like animals," noted work Michelle, "they pick up on it all."
In the final triumph of the day, I took a student, a sweet girl, into the hall and killed her. No but seriously I wanted to talk to her because she was teary after my harsh tone of voice. I apologized. No, no, she said, she knows I'm stressed.
"You always look tired and hot." I suspect she meant stressed but didn't know how to say it. Yup.

untwist the knickers, please

Well, sigh. I'm feeling mighty anxious I must say. And the more I try to control it, the worse it gets. I know that but I still try to control it. Go figure.

Yes, the moving thing is probably making my nervous system all a twitter.

Today I got all upset with the students because they were being ridiculous about something (really) but it was an overreaction and I apologized. In any other job, an apology would be accepted and life would move on. At this job, I have to worry about comment cards and such things like that. Sigh. Everybody's knickers are all in a twist.
Let me tell you my gastroinstestinal system is not happy. Yes, I know, too much information.
In other news, I see that Warren Jaffe, head of a polygamist cult thing in Utah, has finally been captured. Winston Blackmore, his competitor of sorts, heads the polygamist cult in Bountiful, B.C. For some reason this group doesn't get arrested and its members live largely undisturbed. They are said to be quite closed and don't talk to others outside of the community. Fascinating. I've seen Blackmore interviewed and while, you know, his beliefs are disturbing to say the least, he has this odd peace about him and charisma. Don't worry, I don't plan on going up to Bountiful. I'd have to be about 25 years younger than I am. The women seem to dress in these rather bland dresses with bonnets. Blackmore considers himself above the law and hates Jaffe, who he considers an evil man.
Of course, it is always the women who suffer in these things, although I imagine some of them don't see it that way. They pop out the babies and keep house. During the Fifth Estate interview a few months ago, Hanna Gartner asked Blackmore if he knew that two of his wives had married each other and were in a lesbian relationship. He said no and Gartner, a great journalist, looked at him in amazement. He loved talking about Jaffe with her, the idea being, I imagine, that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. So he seemed to feel Gartner and he could be on the same page. Hmmm. Hmmm.
When she asked about how the sex thing works with so many wives (6, I think) he took exception and asked about her sex life. Not easily rattled, Ms. Gartner.
I'm back to thinking that I need a new line of work. One without easily rattled students who pick up on the slightest of emotions. "They're like animals," noted work Michelle, "they pick up on it all."
In the final triumph of the day, I took a student, a sweet girl, into the hall and killed her. No but seriously I wanted to talk to her because she was teary after my harsh tone of voice. I apologized. No, no, she said, she knows I'm stressed.
"You always look tired and hot." I suspect she meant stressed but didn't know how to say it. Yup.

moving on

Because I hate moving, I often seem to find myself staying too long in not great (and sometimes awful) living situations.
I lived about 6 years (out of 8) too long in a shared house in North Vancouver. And then the cute house on Rupert Street, with the less-than-cute roommate situation. Mind you, that roommate situation sparked my creative writing and has led to about 6 short stories so far about a character based on said roommate. Still though, I should have gotten out after the screaming match over a bottle of dish soap.
Now, I've been living on my own in a basement suite in East Vancouver for almost 2 years. it was heaven compared to the roommate situation. But really, it should have been merely a stepping stone to an apartment. There is very little natural light which is a big problem. But bigger, of course, is the 5 times it has flooded. Yup. The landlord is actually trying to fix the problem, septic tanks and money spent and such, the city called in, big trucks involved. And he does quickly carpet clean the whole mess (which leads to, as now, wet carpet smell). He has suggested I move, he is also frustrated by the situation.
Really, I should have been gone after the first flooding. Certainly after the second.
The rental market in Vancouver sucks at the moment and I will certainly be paying at the least $200/month more. And of course moving is stressful and expensive. But I know, I must go. Go I must. I see that October 1st is a Sunday so that works out well.
Pray for me.

the number five

I have three friends who have five children. One of these friends lives in Australia(and Marty, a frequent commenter on my blog, is her husband and father of yes, all of the children). The other two live in Vancouver. Pam and Kathy both have five kids - Kathy is a year (well, 7 months) older than me and has 5 girls, let me see - 15, 13, 11, 10 and 6 I think. Pam is I think 33 and has two boys and three girls - um - 9, 7, 5, 3, 2 - I think, but don't quote me.
No, they do not live in a cult but rather a community living situation in the Downtown Eastside. Do you know Oppenheimer Park? Right across from there at Jackson and Cordova. They started out in the green house and now are managing all of the houses on the block as low-income housing.
Several people live in their community, a Christian one. Not Christian as in praise Jesus and pass the potatoes but more as in living amongst the poor type thing. Not a preaching type thing. Kathy and Pam have lived down there for about 12 years, I think. Now, there is lots that I do not and never will agree with about their ideas and certain actions and they know this. If I want a good argument, I go to Kathy. Ha ha. I just saw her tonight for dinner actually and told her that. She's very impassioned and in-your-face, which in general, I respect.
In a lot of ways though, I deeply respect what they are doing. Quite a lot of my understanding of the Downtown Eastside and its issues come from this community. Any of the street-involved people I have come to know and worry about and see as individual human beings, have come from hanging out with these guys.
They have been involved in numerous protests and acts of civil disobedience. These ain't no George W. type Christians - they are anti-war, anti-poverty, etc. Consistent life ethic type thing. Anti-capital punishment as well. If you have stereotypes about Christians, these guys will smash them into pieces (in a non-violent way).
They have taken in more "troubled" people than I can count and while I may be off saying "I disagree with a lot of what they say!", they re actually off feeding people in their neighbourhood and making them feel a sense of belonging. I've written about them before in reference to a street fellow who had died. That was about a year ago I think.
Kathy is forefront on my mind because I just had dinner with her. She is very busy - her ailing mother also lives in the community - so time alone with her is a rare and lovely treat. Rather intense too, of course. We disagree on a few - well several - subjects.
"You are going to keep talking about this, aren't you?" I ask her as she rallies on.
And yet, okay, that's okay. Part of me loves these intense discussions.
"You know, Kathy," said I, "you can believe in something very strongly and still be wrong."
"yes, and should we get a gelato?"
"Yes," I said.
As my wee fan base knows, I struggle with Jesus and the whole Christian thing and blah blah. Kathy always cuts to the chase, the core. It's hard to explain really. It all relates back to that first and last thing.
The community. Any time I've been freaking out and struggling and etc. like that they have been there in their own unconditional way. Yes, they are intense and have weird ideas and mess up a thing or two or 10, but everytime I have gone there for a free meal or two or ten or just to hang out I have felt welcomed. In the many times I haven't been working they have welcomed me night after night for dinners, no questions asked.
"I'm going to send that lady to you that I saw on the skytrain," I told Kathy, mainly jokingly. Remember the one who kept saying, 'dirty lady' that I blogged about awhile ago? They would let het hang out and probably help to teach her that there are better words to use than dirty lady.
Now don't worry, as I wrote last time about them, this is not a put on a pedestal type thing.
I miss Kathy (I seem to hang out at the community less) and it was good to see her.
"Be sure to read my blog," I told her tonight, giving her the address. I need to fill up my fan base after all.
I got a lovely e-mail from my Irish friend Donna. You know, the one who lives in London now and is starting her career as a teacher. She was responding to my uncle dying e-mail I sent out to some people. It was a sweet and touching e-mail and I got a wee bit teary reading it. I get that way when I realize that people love me just for being me. that may sound sappy to the more hardened amongst my fan base but it is true in a rather deep and profound way.
Phew.

ma famille of origin

One of my fan base has requested that I go on a bit longer about my family of origin. Well, sure, say I. I like to please the fan base.
First though, I want to say that I just ate two wonderful cocktail buns. I had to go to a post office on Kingsway near Knight to pick up a package and right near there was this Chinese bakery.
"You have cocktail buns!" I shrieked. Three for $1.10. Oh my god. I ate two on the way home. These I worship.
Kingsway is a rather odd type street, I think. Lots of rundown shops and I saw an entire cow almost in the window of one store. Yikes.
Ma famille. Where was I? Uh yes, memere. One question she always managed to ask me in English was, "Do you have a boyfriend?" I tell you, thank god she is not alive today still asking me that question. Could you imagine. "No, Memere, I do not. OH MY GOD I DO NOT!!!!!!! OH MEMERE!!!!!!!!! Do you have any homemade cookies and 7up?"
Memere and Papere were Catholics and hence had 14 children. Memere rolled over, pregnant. And that's how it was. My mother told me that she took the pill. I was a slow child and didn't seem to realize that perhaps mom and dad had ridden the wild ride more than twice. Oh lordy. I remember my mother telling me about sex. I was 10 and my cousin Colette (the one whose father just died) had informed me that rape is when a man drags a woman by her hair somewhere. So this led to the discussion with my mother about the "sex act" as she said it was called.
I remember she was doing the dishes and was embarrassed. She wanted to do a two part thing, like come back another day and finish the story. I would have none of that. After a description of the basics she informed me that it was natural.
"Do you plan it during the day?" I asked.
"No, it just happens," said she.
"oh, do you do it in your sleep?"
"Well, no."
The whole thing lasted about two minutes. The conversation that is. So I've had this information for almost 1/3 of a century and am not using it nearly enough.
Tangent that was. Back to Memere. I think back now and I realize that her and my mom were close in their way. My mom talked to her on the phone nearly every day. It was in French so all I understood was, "blah, blah, blah, blah, KAREN, blah, blah, blah, blah, SHERRI, blah, blah, blah." Fascinating. You know, thinking back on it, she could have been saying, "I'm going to sell Karen on the open market but we may just get more money for Sherri, because she is blonde."
Uh yes, my sister Sherri. She has dirty blonde hair and is very fair. I'm not. We look very different. However, we have the same laugh and voice thingy. We are so different. Growing up, she was known as the calm one and me as the nervous one. She was the one who would, as a teenager, go to the beach with her friends and return with some stud and show him off to me. I was the one who watched Love Boat and Fantasy Island. She had the blonde thing. I never seemed to brush or wash my hair so it was unruly and hung over my face. We were both pretty smart and did well in high school. I had few friends in high school She had many until they all turned against her and that is something she says she still remembers well.
Sherri went to university right after high school and became a social worker, which she still is, in very short order. I went to university for two years, dropped out, moved to Vancouver, went back to school, finished a B.A., bummed around, went to journalism school, became a journalist in Alberta, came back, got a TESL, bummed around, went from job to job until finally settling down at my most recent. She is in many ways more stable than I am - married, had a child, a good career and respected in her field. I'm finally getting some long-needed work stability and am single, and as you all know ad nauseum, unhappily so. I've travelled a bit more than she has. Because we are so different, we'll never be the best of friends. But slowly over the years we are finding a middle ground, I think. It is difficult because family dynamics are so huge. Oh and I like to analyze things into the ground and she doesn't. I can picture her reading this (as she once in a while does) and rolling her eyes,thinking, "oh for goodness sakes let all of this go."
She's a great mother and I love my 9-year-old niece immensely. She is so sweet that I could just cry.
I'm worried you are bored, fan base, however, I will continue for a bit.
Oh and that new show, Vanished, well, sadly, it sucks. Just bloody awful, as my pal Janis would say.
What about your father, you ask, after coming back from an unintended nap over the keyboard.
Well, fanbase, that is a whole different kettle of guifilte fish. Sorry, I do not know how to spell guifilte fish.
Anyway, must go go to the bathroom. We'll talk more later.
Oh and I notice that my fans Marty and Janis (Schnee) are becoming quite good internet buddies and that Marty is even reading Schnee's blog. The world is coming together in peace and harmony!

various thoughts

Well, yup. I went on a hike of sorts today with workmates Kristina and Michelle. It was in Deep Cove and it was about 45 minutes up and 45 minutes down. I set a slow pace because of my knees and my general fear of falling. My balance sucks - did I tell you I had to take gross motor classes in Grade 1, until they booted me out, saying, nothing more can be done. Sad tale really. It was an awesome view but my knees were doing quite badly then and really badly now. Oh well.
We then went to Honey's Donuts and Michelle recommends the grilled cheese on white bread, which I had last time and again this time. It's good because I don't have to think about what I will have.
Work Michelle, not to be confused with non-work Michelle. Anyway, work Michelle and I have opposite problems really. She feels insecure about her intelligence and I feel insecure about my looks. And we both feel secure about what the other feels insecure about. Huh? I think it makes sense. Karen, you say, you feel secure about something? Well, vaguely.
Work Michelle, who by the way, is the one who had the rather yucky run-in with the Flashdance star about a year ago ("I need you to service me. Where are the yoga pants?" Michelle also works at Lulu Lemon or The Lemon), is of course quite pretty. Skinny, great body, great blonde hair, etc. etc. But see, she is smart but for some reason doesn't feel it in her being's coreness. Feel it in your core, Michelle.
She also likes to give me great amounts of advice on how to find inner peace.
"I've given up on trying to help her with that," remarked Kristina today as we slogged up the hill in Deep Cove.
I like Michelle. When I first met her, of course I was jealous of her beauty. I'm like that, you know, jealous of others' beauty. Many women are, I hear. SO I think I gave her my passive-aggressive hard time. Oh my god and apparently she enjoys and finds humour on my cynical outlook on life. This is good.
New thought track. My Uncle Raymond died yesterday. He was 69 and had had a quadruple bypass. He was my mother's brother. Mom grew up with 13 siblings and now there are 7, I believe, left. So half. I haven't seen Uncle Raymond in years but remember him quite well of course. My mother's French Canadian, small town Manitoba family of origin is a fascinating case study. Sometimes tragic, as in the case of my Uncle Robert's 1986 suicide at age 36. I was 19 at the time. I always liked him. He was the dark horse of the family and literally, had a very dark complexion. He was the youngest in the family. My grandmother was alive at the time of his death and took it amazingly well. I feel somehow connected to Uncle Robert in that he struggled with anxiety and depression. We never got to talk about it, I didn't understand all of that at the time. Now I do and wish he were still here. Anyway, let's not get maudlin.
Uncle Charlie and Uncle Lionel, I haven't seen them I'd say in 35 years. I could pass them on the street (well, they live in Winnipeg) and we wouldn't know it. I do know that they look the most native of all of us, very dark. We have Metis/native way back in the history.
Many other uncles and aunts but I won't bore you. They all spoke French, except for Auntie Marian, married to mom's brother Tony. I heard a ton of French growing up, but never learned it. My dad doesn't speak it. Too bad, that would be a great skill to have now. I liked going to my grandmother's apartment, despite the language thing. My grandfather was in a nursing home across the street. We called my grandmother, memere, an incorrect French term, but one we used. She spoke more English than she let on, that's for sure. I loved her cookies, her 7up and her grandmotherlyness. Well, she wasn't traditionally grandmotherly but there you go. She only had three daughters (well, two others died quite early) and I think that she leaned on my mother the most.
I am going on here. If you are bored, you know, watch TV as you read. I'm finding this therapeutic really.
But I'll stop here for now. I need to go and ice my knees.

Drive, she said

That is a movie directed by Mina Shum, who also directed Double Happiness, starring the great Canadian actress Sandra Oh. Sandra Oh stars in Grey's Anatomy. I shunned this show when it first came out, tried to watch half an episode and didn't like it. A few weeks ago I tried again and now I am hooked. They are showing repeats on Sundays and two back-to-back on Thursday evenings. It's too slick, sure, but very quirky. I don't care for the lead actress much, Ellen Pompeo, but I like the other actors.
Also, if you like the actor Gale Harold from the U.S. Queer as Folk, check out the new TV show Vanished on Monday evening. He is starring in it.
A pal of mine failed her drivers' test recently, in what sounds like an unecessarily humiliating experience. Oh yes, the driving test. I failed mine five times, yes, five times. I passed the driving part on the second try but the parallel parking part took me five times. My parents finally hired an instructor and he had cheaters on his car. Like buttons that you lined up the poles with. Phew, passed at 17. Then I had a car accident with dad's car on June 1, 1985 (my memory is almost savant like, yes?) and that ended my driving dad's car career. To this day when I visit Winnipeg (which, okay I haven't done in 7 years. Yes, I know, the parents are old and I should go and blah blah.) he won't let me drive. My mother doesn't drive so he has to chauffeur us everywhere. If it is winter that is beyond stressful. anyway, I didn't drive out of fear for years and years.
Finally, when I was 26 and living in Medicine Hat, Alberta, population 60,000, I bought a used Chevy Malibu Classic for $1,000 and figured out the driving thing. A bit harrowing really, especially in the snow and ice. But the Hat is small with lots of retirees who like to drive 10 km/hour. Oh and the used car had cruise control so when I drove the dead boring Hat-Calgary three hour thing, I put it on and went to sleep.
Now flying is something I don't like. I have no fear of it but it's the getting there early, the boarding, the getting off, the customs/baggage collection, etc. that I don't like at all. Remember when I flew from London-Paris? And it took 9 hours door to door and the flight itself was one hour? Craziness. And now no water can be brought on board! Those poor flight attendants will be run off their feet even more. Perhaps the next time I fly I will put water in baggies and then swallow it in the baggies to be drunk later, after a trip to the plane washroom to retrieve them. Complicated and dangerous, sure, but worth it me thinks. And don't drink the toilet water out of desperation! Oy vay. And I can only imagine that security will be even crazier.
"Did you pack these bags yourself?"
"No, a man named Bob bin Laden packed it for me while I was out buying water bottles to bring in my carry on."
"Oh. Well you can't bring liquids on board anymore. You'll have to pack those in your check-in luggage or else give them to me."
"But I will get very dehydrated. Plus, Bob bin Laden has given me special tablets to put in the water. Then I shake it a bit and he promises a nice tasting beverage."
I don't know what part of my brain that bizarre piece of dialogue came from. Must be all of the swimming.
And finally, Marty, thanks for saying that for 40, I don't look too awful. Do you guys still live in Adelaide? In an attempt to find meaning in my life I may want to come out and visit in December or January. Let me know.
Of course I know from experience that a flight to Australia is about the farthest place you can fly to. I will bring my own bottled water, dammit.

yee haw

Hey, thanks to my good pal, Michelle (not to be confused with other pal, Michelle that you will see in my photos in a few minutes) for helping me figure out this whole posting photos on blog situation. Also, thank you to Charleen for taking these photos and e-mailing them to me and for you know, just being her.

Here are some photos (or maybe just one, I'm still learning) of the sea kayaking Deep Cove day I wrote about awhile back. I seem genuinely happy in these pics and damn it, I was!

no title, no imagination today

Not feeling too well so I'll keep this post short. Worry not, though, writing group, I'll be there tomorrow night! I'm trying to see how many weeks I can make it in a row. I hope I'm not coming down with something - lots of things seem to be going around and around. What are your symptoms, Karen, you ask worriedly. Well, I feel oddly lightheaded, kinda weak and spaced out. Of course, this could be the result of that time of the month or bad sleeping habits or both. Oh fan base, please worry about me for hours.
It's sunny and hot today, yee haw! I know I have only a couple of more weeks of New Brighton Outdoor pool time, so off I went, despite feeling crappy (see above). I thought a bit o food might help my spaceyness, so I ordered a veggie burger from the canteen there. I figured a veggie burger would be safer than a burger burger. Hmmm. I think they gave me a burger burger by mistake. It was good, but I think it was a burger burger. Not a big deal for me since I frequently partake of the cow, but it could have been disastrous for someone else.
On a completely shallow note, I notice that I have added a third roll to my stomach. 15 years ago I had no rolls, then one, two and now three. It's very interesting really. It's all out of my control as I eat reasonably well and exercise and such like that there. Certain meds increase weight as we know from my earlier obsessive weight gain blog postings. Or it could be age or what have you. I've decided to make a conscious decision not to obsess about it. Oh, the excitement.
What else? If you are interested in the twin American girls who were recently separated - they were conjoined and are now 4 years old - check out www.herrintwins.com.
Well, only a couple of people responded to my profound "what I enjoy about Jesus." Fan base - where are you?

what I enjoy about Jesus

a few things. The first last and last first thing, for example. Now take out your bibles and turn to Matthew 20 I think I think (or so the internet tells me). I've always found that verse amazing and profound. You know, the basic deal that those that society throws away - the weak, the sick, the dual diagnosis out in the Downtown Eastside, "the collateral damage" in war, the untouchables, etc - Jesus said those people are first. FIRST dammit. Wowza. That's a mind twist. The broken come first and you know, the others - the oil rich in say, Texas, Paris Hilton, - they have to go to the back of the line. Way, way back.
Because I feel broken, this can make me weep this verse.
Now me, I'm not so compassionate. Example. I was on the skytrain to work, yesterday it was. And this woman gets on at my station and stays on for the 20-minute ride downtown. She begins with, 'girls, I need to talk to all of the girls on the train. Perfume is bad. perfume is very bad for me. So don't wear any. Do not wear any."
She goes on like this, for, well, 20 minutes. We're crammed in the train of course and no one knows quite what to do so we have awkward snickers and looking down. I memorized the pattern on the floor.
Off the train we get, toward the escalator. This woman has found someone who will nod and smile and is going on about cigarettes, bums who don't work and demand her money even though she works damn hard and on and on. On the escalator now. A woman near her snickers.
"Are you laughing at me?' she asks, "dirty lady, my brother has a stomach tumour. Dirty lady, shame on you." She repeats this to the top of the escalator and then follows this woman to say it again and again. The woman, wisely I think, doesn't respond or look her way. "Dirty lady, shame on you."
This is not a pleasant mentally ill woman. Her psychological drool is showing and showing a lot. If she had been calling me dirty lady I'm sure I would have reacted and escalated the whole scene and caused Car 87 to come along. Car 87 is the only psychiatric ambulance in Vancouver, in case you didn't know. You may know, but I don't know.
And I'm thinking, first last and last first. Yeah, yeah, I think. The first in that lineup are not going to be the cute, yet disturbed people. They (me?) are going to be annoying and perseverating and screaming and drooling all over the place. Not a designer dress in sight. Yup, I think. Yup. I imagine there will be lots of rashes and yucky bleeding sores (sorry) and odd stuff in hair.
Me? I tend to shower daily and use deodorant, despite possible links to breast cancer. At this point, my brokenness is more in my head - obsessing, anger, hurt, bitterness, etc. etc. But wowza is it ever there. If you could turn me inside out (ew) I'd be screaming "dirty lady" at all the people on the escalator. Huh? does that even make sense? you get the idea though. And feelings of rejection? Oy vay, don't even get me started (or do, have me over for meatloaf and I'll discuss it). All that crap and off I go to the front of the line. Well yee haw.
Call Jesus god or just a guy or a guy with a rather owie death or a guy who existed merely as metaphor, or maybe even a gay guy with lots of party boys with him; I like that particular quote of his.

wait for it people

I had, wait for it, a fun weekend. Wow, a positive statement! Eeek! This is difficult. I desperately want to add how I'm still obsessive and 40 and single but wait, I will not do that! Well, I did but it's a steep learning curve.
I've already told you about the lovely Maggie and watching standup comedy. There was also fireworks watching at a friend's apartment in English Bay. 20th floor, a beautiful view, no one jumped. Before that I spent part of the afternoon reading at Sunset Beach and then we had a picnic there. I had a fig from a tree for the first time in my life. Very sweet. Very different looking and tasting than dried figs.
On Sunday I slept in, felt tired but got off my butt at 4 p.m. and went to the swimming pool. Excellent idea that. Usually when I'm feeling overwhelmingly tired I stay at home but I pushed my butt out. It was beautiful outside and the swimming was great. I swam for an hour all together. Oh and I jogged on Saturday and also swam on Thursday night.
Then, on Sunday evening I went to see the movie, The Night Listener at the new independent theatre, the Rio, right across from the Broadway skytrain station. It's just re-opened and is independent so no ads and the movies/popcorn are cheaper. I worry that it may not last long because there were only 5 people in the theatre. Go out and support it, especially if you live in the community. I liked the Night Listener and I've read the book as well. Good and creepy.
Today, I went with work colleagues and cool people, Michelle and Charleen and we went sea kayaking at Deep Cove. Michele had kindly reserved three kayaks ahead of time. Good price too - $36 for two hours. Very beautiful. Michelle is a bit of a fitness fiend and we ended up doing a lot more paddling than I expected. Coming back was particularly difficult and I wasn't sure I was going to make it. My heart almost gave out I think and I'm in pretty good shape for an old woman. My arm muscles and shoulder muscles will protest tomorrow. Apparently the current was very strong today. Still, a great time and I may go again (albeit at a slower pac with more time to drift). Thank you, young Michele and Charleen.
I did lots of reading lounging outside this weekend two. and I even won a Scrabble game.
Back to work tomorrow but a short week. Another four day weekend will occur in four weeks. Excellent.

wait for it people

I had, wait for it, a fun weekend. Wow, a positive statement! Eeek! This is difficult. I desperately want to add how I'm still obsessive and 40 and single but wait, I will not do that! Well, I did but it's a steep learning curve.
I've already told you about the lovely Maggie and watching standup comedy. There was also fireworks watching at a friend's apartment in English Bay. 20th floor, a beautiful view, no one jumped. Before that I spent part of the afternoon reading at Sunset Beach and then we had a picnic there. I had a fig from a tree for the first time in my life. Very sweet. Very different looking and tasting than dried figs.
On Sunday I slept in, felt tired but got off my butt at 4 p.m. and went to the swimming pool. Excellent idea that. Usually when I'm feeling overwhelmingly tired I stay at home but I pushed my butt out. It was beautiful outside and the swimming was great. I swam for an hour all together. Oh and I jogged on Saturday and also swam on Thursday night.
Then, on Sunday evening I went to see the movie, The Night Listener at the new independent theatre, the Rio, right across from the Broadway skytrain station. It's just re-opened and is independent so no ads and the movies/popcorn are cheaper. I worry that it may not last long because there were only 5 people in the theatre. Go out and support it, especially if you live in the community. I liked the Night Listener and I've read the book as well. Good and creepy.
Today, I went with work colleagues and cool people, Michelle and Charleen and we went sea kayaking at Deep Cove. Michele had kindly reserved three kayaks ahead of time. Good price too - $36 for two hours. Very beautiful. Michelle is a bit of a fitness fiend and we ended up doing a lot more paddling than I expected. Coming back was particularly difficult and I wasn't sure I was going to make it. My heart almost gave out I think and I'm in pretty good shape for an old woman. My arm muscles and shoulder muscles will protest tomorrow. Apparently the current was very strong today. Still, a great time and I may go again (albeit at a slower pac with more time to drift). Thank you, young Michele and Charleen.
I did lots of reading lounging outside this weekend two. and I even won a Scrabble game.
Back to work tomorrow but a short week. Another four day weekend will occur in four weeks. Excellent.

the lovely Maggie

So my friend Maggie is in town. I worked with Maggie for about a year at my ESL school-with-the-union-that-keeps-me-from-being-fired-when-a-student-complains until she moved to Turkey, Ankarra specifically. She fell in love with a Turkish student (not from our school) and off she went.
Maggie is great. Great, great, great. And she is gorgeous - tall, blonde, thin, hot. And yet I don't hate her as I usually do the beautiful. Nope, she doesn't have an ounce of pretention or arrogance that Maggie. She is cool, as my female students often say about another teacher, Mark. Mark is a cute 20s guy who has a band and sometimes brings his guitar to work. "He's so cool," a Japanese student told me awhile ago, "is he married?" Yes, to me, I told her. So ha. No I didn't say that.
Back to Maggie. It's cool because you know, Maggie was one of the "cool" people at work and given my cataclismic obsession with being cool at work and being in I like it that she likes to hang out. Yes, I'm 40 and still want to be cool. Yes, I know. And plus she is just a nice person.
Anyway, we went to Yuk Yuk's, now for some reason in the basement of the Century Plaza Hotel on Burrard Street downtown. $16 got us two comics and an MC. Funny on the whole. It inspires me to get my butt trained and do a little standup. Tuesday nights is apparently amateur night. We are going to go one night before she leaves. Excellent.
So the first day of my four day weekend is done. 25 percent done is the weekend. It was beautiful today and I sat in Trout Lake park admiring the trees.
I was thinking today that I hope one day to have more positive thoughts than negative ones. The balance is decidedly toward the latter. I honestly think paths get imprinted on the brain and the brain then becomes comfortable with that. Hence things like thought-changing, medication that bloats you up like a balloon and things like that.
It's past 10 p.m., my brain is not functioning at peak capacity so please bear with me.
So hey, wee, wee fan base, if you like, comment on positive things I could think about. Not things like "you have your health," or "at least you are not being bombed and told it is for your own good and that since your country is used to that, it's not a big deal" or "stop feeling sorry for yourself. You have large breasts and a decent butt and your hair is not so bad despite the gray which you are afraid to have coloured again because your excellent hairdresser is on some maternity leave thing." You know, I get that compared-to-developing nations thing. Let's have some happy, happy, positive thoughts.
Oh fan base, how I love and appreciate your ongoing reading. Or even your sometimes reading. By the way, I need to have someone plan the fan club meeting. I thought we'd have it in Rome. My costs, of course, will need to be covered - this would best be spread out evenly amongst the crowd. Let's see, approximately, ball park
Karen's trip to Rome (including first-class airfare, four-star hotel, car, driver, all meals, swimming pool) for four weeks - $20,000 plus my speaking fee - $1,500 (a deal at that!) - say let's round up to $25,000. divided by 5 - $5,000 each plus your own costs. Not too bad.
And finally, Paris Pinder who I deeply love and respect, is moving back to London to go to law school. She's a bit torn up about it. But Pinder, congratulations and we love you here at nearmiddleagerantings.
and Mel Gibson, if you are reading, I'm half-Jewish and wouldn't mind if we took a meeting. Good publicity for both of us.
oh fan base, how I love you.

neato

Well, the origin of the Waterboys has gotten me more comments than anything else. Neato, Batman.
While (or whilst) I'd love to blog about my persistent of late sleeping issues and the various bottles of things being tried to correct them, I won't. I realize that in matters of my brain, my excellent doctor and I seem to know best. The rest just spins in my head. Speaking of my doctor, my regular doctor is back now. While I enjoy her, I LOVED sub doctor. Sub doctor was so helpful, compassionate and really got some good information for me. Nothing wrong with regular doctor, although she was rather tired and stressed out last night. So was I, plus mega-hungry, so we actually clashed. Here's a bit of how my thoughts work:
"Yikes, Dr. _________ seems to have more distressing wrinkles every time I see her. Of course, I must too. But then she is far paler of skin than me, so maybe she looks worse? She's only two years older than me. Well, she is married and does have three little children so she's like way ahead of me. She used to be so pretty."
Yup, shallow thoughts that and not very nice. Sigh.
I'm too tired to blog coherently so off I go. Oprah seems to have the mermaid baby from peru on, must see this.