moving on

I searched the net looking for that list - you know, the 10 highest stresses in life or something - death of spouse on top I think and moving right up there. Oh I think they've added meeting Tom Cruise in there somewhere.
Anyway, fan base, I am moving tomorrow morning - that would be Sunday, Oct. 1. Now Marty that would be probably Monday, Oct. 2nd for you in Australia. So if you are planning to help Marty, better factor that in.
Uh, moving. Because I am blessed (despite my insistence that my life is a vat of nothingness), I have about 8 people helping me, 4 cars and one Dodge Caravan (bless you, Bruce and all that you do for me. I am not worthy). So that's great. Most of the people helping me are lovely calm sorts so that will be good for me too as I try to get everything together. Where's the landlady? I need the key! Oh my god, where will we park, etc. etc.
So I've been boxing things up for awhile and have it almost under control. One last use of the free laundry (new place is coin operated) and packing a few more things. It's all of the last little odds and sods that I dislike the most. One more thing and one more thing, etc. Yuck. Another nice thing about having people I know helping is that I don't have to box everything perfectly. Which I couldn't anyway.
So, you know, wish me luck. I won't have the internet for about 24 harrowing hours (or cable TV for that matter!) so this will be interesting.
Eeek.

odd and disturbing this was

I drove downtown early this afternoon and looked for a parking spot so I could go to Word on the Street, the yearly book and magazine fair in front of the main library.
The streets were packed but I saw a young Korean man getting into his car on Hamilton Street. I was pleased with my luck and put my signal on and waited for him to leave.
He hadn't after a few minutes so I pulled up beside him and honked but he didn't look over. I backed up, got out of my car and went up to his driver's side.
I knocked on his window. He looked at me, window still up.
"Are you leaving?" I asked and he said, "no." It was odd having a conversation through a closed window, especially since it was a warm day.
"Could you move your car up?" I asked, "If you did that I could move in behind you." We'd be sharing a parking meter but this sometimes happened. I was going to put more money in.
He began to gesture angrily and I said, "please roll down your window."
And then, thinking he didn't understand me and as you know being a teacher of the old ESL, I added, "do you speak English?"
He opened his door and began to scream, "I fucking speak English," he yelled in, well, perfect unaccented English. "I know your scam."
"But if you just move your car over . . . I could park."
"This is one spot," he yelled, "Don't try to scam me."
"But I'll put money in the meter," I said, getting agitated myself and a bit scared, shocked mainly, "This is silly."
"Get away from my car. Don't scam me. I'll call the police."
"Okay," I said, "good, yes, call the police."
"Just get away, don't touch my car. Find another spot."
He went to close his door but I held it open (although he was far stronger and younger than me, my hand had no power really.)
"But, are you kidding?"
"I'll call the police!"
"no," I said, shaking, "I will."
I got in my car and drove past him, honking. Enraged, he looked over and I mimed talking to the cops on my cell phone and made a point of looking at his license plate number.
Eeek.
I had a hard time shaking that off. And no, I didn't ask the can you speak english question in any kind of a tone, I don't think that was the problem.
And so the weekend ends. 7 days till I move. I bought a fitted sheet and a flat sheet for my new bed today! Only 200 thread count because I'm being more financially conscious. work is slowing down quite a lot and because no one has quit in awhile, I'm low down on the seniority roster. My third winter at the job I still have to worry about several months of less work. My new place is going to increase my monthly expenses by about $250 a month, not a problem when working full time. When not, well, that is a bit of an eeek.
So there you go. Far too much time spent alone this weekend, far too much. HALT and all of that.

a return to surliness

Well, downright horrible bitchiness actually.
Sigh.
I've been reading this other blog - called spanglemonkey if you are looking for it - and that blogger spends 92 per cent of her blogging time bemoaning her life. Well, mind you, she is bipolar, has borderline personality disorder and her mother is dying of cancer, but still, I feel more justified in blubbering about mine. so there. Continue reading at your own peril.
This wretched mood usually comes upon me when I spend too much time alone. Uh huh! a clue. For some reason I remember what they say in A.A. to alcoholics - HALT - hungry, angry, lonely and tired - not to let those things fester. Well, I wasn't hungry yesterday but yeah, the other three for sure. I'm not an alcoholic, have never been drunk in fact (stunning, I know!) but have the obsessive brain quality thing going on. This I know.
And my anger problem, oy vay, don't get me started. i always wish that anger could be removed from the brain like, like, like a tumour or something. Anger, I find, is one of the toughest emotions. It feels so strong and takes a lot to rein in.
So anyway - I really struggle, and fan base you know this, with being alone. Alone in my basement suite, although next week I will at least have a third floor suite with natural light and no sewage flooding and that will help I am sure. Everyone I know was off with their wee families last night, enjoying, well, their families. Fair enough of course. My rational side sees that completely and can even be happy for them. But my emotional side, my too bored side gets all worked up. I feel abandoned, ignored, depressed, angry, worthless, blah, blah. I try not to feed into it - I read, I surf the net, watch a little TV, do a little packing for the big move but it is there. It is so there that it pushes all other there aside.
"Go to Africa!" you say, "go help the AIDS orphans!" "Forget about yourself!" yup. Nope.
I feel guilty of course going on like this, what with African AIDS orphans and all.
I spent a lovely afternoon - while my car was being fixed of the terrible and possibly deadly pinging sound - well, there is still another pinging sound to be fixed but that will have to wait until after my move - with two lovely women friends and one of the women's cute wee baby. I loved holding wee baby, so cute I could cry. And there was some kind of excellent sweet thing served. Wow it was good and apparently available at Union Market.
So that was good fun. But then the two lovely women went off to their lovely family-oriented evenings and I went and got my car. "you really should get the other side fixed too," said nice mechanic. And it was a good mechanic shop too. I had picked it pretty randomly, I just wanted to be able to walk to my friend's house and back, so walking distance. They charged me about 35% less than another shop had quoted me and were quick as well. "At any point will my tire fall off?" I asked the guy.
No, said he, but it will wear down other parts. Yup. I'll have to save up for that because as we know I have to buy furniture and the like for the new place. It's just very nice not to hear the loud noise when I turn left. It's just a slight noise when I turn right so I won't turn right anymore. Hah! I probably should have gone out to a movie or something to help get ouf of my funk. But I didn't.
But I did meditate before going to insomnia, I mean sleep. I'm taking this evening Buddhist Vipassana meditation course. Now, calm down, my fundy Christian part of the fan base. It's okay. Anyway, I just started and we got a CD with it. I did 1 10-minute loving kindness one and I swear I felt less "bothered" after. So that was good. The course is interesting - we are learning walking meditation, breathing meditation and loving kindness meditation. Excellent.
I'm going to jog now, despite the knees. My body needs it - a chance to release pent up stuff. And later, I'm picking up my friend and her husband from the airport, where they have spent the last three weeks in the South of France. Another friend just got back from Italy and next week, two more friends are coming back from a six month European sojourn. Divine.
thanks for reading.

but Jon, will you help me move?

I have Oprah on as I often do after work when my brain cells are fried and I want a little mindless mindless.
Jon Bon Jovi is on and there is film of him taking some Lousiana natives to their new homes, their own being destroyed after the devastating Hurricane Katrina.
The people he gives the new homes to, and their are some nice homes, are hysterical with thanks. Hysterical. Then we go back to Jon and Oprah and they are all chatty and love festy. "Jon, you are great." "No, Oprah, you are great." "oh Jon." "Oh Oprah."
Now don't get me wrong, it is awesome and incredible that celebrities have stepped up to lend a hand and some money. And I know that many do it without ever being on Oprah or publicly thanked. Excellent.
It's weird me thinks how "we" (the royal we) bow down to these people after they contribute sometbing.
But let's figure it out percentage wise. Let's say Jon Bon Jovi is worth, I don't know, 50 million dollars? I have no idea but let's say 50 million. That's Canadian, Sleepy, so about 20 million British pounds.
Now, say he donates, what, maybe half a million to this Louisiana deal. Probably not that much, because they were collecting donations. Oprah viewers helped furnish the homes with their own money. But, okay, half a million. What percentage is that? By my lack of math skills, I say 1/100 of his earnings.
Now, bear with me here. Let's say the average Oprah viewer makes about $40,000 a year. So 1/100 is - uh oh, now I'm stymied, wait, $400. I bet many Oprah viewers have given at least that much in a year.
You get the idea. But then I'm jaded.
In my minute little minor observation of Hollywood that I've witnessed through someone I sort of know (got that?) I know that having a cause was very important. She picked one close to her heart, of course, but I know it was important that it be known.
I'm not saying that Bon Jovi isn't generous. Oh, the street where these houses are is now called Bon Jovi Drive I just heard. Of course he is. But the money donated, the time given is really minute in the big scheme of things. Blah, not a brilliant point but there you go. Next up on Oprah: Eva Longoria of Desperate Housewives is building houses or something in Alabama. This is the same Ms. Longoria who was apparently fuming when actually expected to pay a restaurant tab. The part that kind of makes me vaguely sick about all of it is that we see the "ordinary" people practically genuflecting to these celebrities. Mother Teresa they are not.
New topic. I heard Hugo Chavez speaking at the United Nations the other day. He went to town, calling Bush the devil and that the smell of sulphur was still strong in the room. He went on and on and the translator just translated it all. Oh boy. Pat Robertson will be calling for his head again.
big tv night tonight - The Biggest Loser and America's Next Top Model at the same time. How overwhelming.

they shall know me by the sound of my car

Once in awhile I drive my 1986 Honda Civic hatchback to work. Not very often, because really, it is about to fall apart. usually i take the skytrain (for you out of towners that is like a subway, but lamer).
Anyway, i was feeling lazy and I needed to pick up more boxes for my move.
I get into work and in comes workmate/friend/voice of calm Kristina.
"I heard your car this morning. And sure enough it was you."
Yeah, when I turn right or left, I forget which, the axle thingy makes this huge noise. Kind of loud from the inside, very loud apparently from the outside. Excellent. Seems the wheel will eventually fall off but I refuse to spend any money on this car other than gas and oil changes, which come to think of it, I am overdue for. I'm just going to let it die a natural death or possibly drowning, which I hear is a relaxing way to die once you give in to it. ooh, that was vaguely morbid.
So, yeah, getting ready for the big move in 12 days. Sigh. Thought I hardly had anything but I am filling box after box. Mind you, I'm not at all spatials so I may not be packing these boxes in the most efficient way. I keep hinting to Tracy to please come and help, but oddly, she hasn't rushed over.
So I'm moving about 40 blocks north but the same east-west situation. I'm trying not to obsess about the recent arson attack outside of the building, I mean, what can you do.
Moving. I figured out that I have lived, including my new place, in 10 different places, not including my home in Winnipeg where I spent the first 20 and 10 months years of my life. That be a lot of moving and once was halfway across the country. Luckily I had less stuff then. How do people in big houses do it? I guess they hire movers. Yikes.
What else? Not much really. any moving stories? I love em.

I'm touched

I'm touched. Verklempt even. Oy vay.
Both Sleepy and Schnee have a healthy concern for my bowel. And what I believe Sleepy doesn't even know is that my sister had colitis so they took out the majority of her colon, leaving her first with an external pouch and finally with an internal pouch (thank god). So I am more than predisposed.
Bowel talk came up at work today oddly enough. Seems a colleague is in the hospital, having lost 40 pounds (!) due to colitis I believe. Yikes. She has no appetite but is still able to eat so far. Yikes.
This is a rather gross topic I realize. Don't eat and read this but taking it to the bathroom would be entirely appropriate.
Sherri, my sister, got sick in Sept. 1997, soon after her 35th birthday and nine months after giving birth to her daughter. Lousy timing. She went from being told it was minor, to being given steroids, to hospitalization and after a week or so, the operation. It was the first of three, the third turning out to be the most deadly. She got very sick for quite awhile. This all took place over about nine months. Six months of the external pouch was awful for her and no, unlike they tell you, you cannot wear a bikini with an external pouch.
Sherri lived in Vancouver at this time and my parents in winnipeg. We are not a particularly close family and my sister didn't want my aged parents coming out because it would actually be more stressful. Not so much with my mother but certainly with my father. I visited her regularly at St. Pauls and remember well the day the doctor told her the colon had to come out. Her husband, Scott, was at home taking care of the new baby. After the doctor left Sherri burst into tears and said she had to call Scott. She wanted me to go. I left and burst into tears myself in the elevator. I called a friend from the pay phone outside of the hospital (no cell phone yet) and sobbed and sobbed.
Sherri is fine now and her recent small intestine problem has cleared itself up, for now anyway. Phew.
And a bit of medical knowledge: you can only have an internal pouch if you still have a sphincter. Keep your sphincter in shape!
Also at work was a discussion of another diet type thing. Not so much a diet but a food combining thing. A couple of colleauges like to try these different types of things.
I am quite reactive (even more so than usual) to these types of things. My father became bulimic when I was 15 (yes, odd, I know, and no, I don't really want to discusss it) and so I really, really dislike any kind of what I can perceive as obsession with food or being thin. Not to say that I don't try to eat well, I know that is important but I really struggle listening to people go on about this type of thing, especially when they are rail thin already.
But anyway.
I'm having an in-house sort of therapy thing this evening, in my very own basement suite. Thank god it didn't flood during the recent rains, I'm hoping it holds off flooding until the afternoon of Oct. 1. After that it can flood to its heart's content.

all that you want in (a) bed

oh, the titillation of that title. Oooh.

I'm bed shopping for my one-bedroom apartment. Since I've lived on my own, I haven't had a bed, but many, many futons. So I have no idea what I'm in for.

I live near Renfrew and Grandview, the furniture store capital of well, East Vancouver. I go into The Brick for their tent sale. Not sure why it's called a tent sale, there are no tents for sale. Free hotdogs and pop is promised but I don't see any. It's okay, I have a stomachache (see previous post).

"I need a bed," I tell the approaching salesman. Their beds are expensive. I leave and head next door to J.R. Furniture. Salesman offers me a deal - $500 - queen size bed with wheel thingy. "I'll think about it. I have to go to Sleep Country."
"Just put down a deposit," says he. "Nah."

I head across the street to Sleep Country (why buy a mattress anywhere else?)


"I hear it's your mix and match sale," I say to the salesmen. I am beginning to think that only men sell beds.

"I've never bought a bed. I sleep on a futon."

Salesman's face looks stricken, like I've said I mutiliate mattresses in my spare time.

"Do you like a firm, medium or soft bed?"

Of course for some reason this makes me want to burst into hysterical giggles. Hee hee hee hee hee.

"Well firm is always best," I want to say. Hee hee hee.

He has me try all three types. I sleep on my stomach, I tell him, refraining from mentioning my current stomach troubles, my sleep troubles, my love of the sleeping pill Imovane, or my sister's current (and possibly dangerous) blocked small intestine.

"Then you don't want firm." he tells me. Hee hee hee in my head again. hee hee hee.

"Try this one out. Lie down on your stomach. Grab the pillow. Pretend you are in sleep position." Well, to really do that I'd have to be naked with my blow up doll beside me (joking) but I keep my clothes on.

I groan. "This is so comfortable." Of course, I've said this into the pillow so he doesn't know what the heck I'm saying.

"yes it has blah blah coils, blah blah repels sweat (you sweat a litre a night! he tells me), repels bed bugs (oooh!), blah, blah good for your back, blah blah.

It's $900 (on sale!) not including the $100 wheely thingy.

"JR furniture will sell me the whole thing for $500."

"Yeah, but they don't make good beds. Oh, wait, I remember a cheaper model, it's the last one so it will go fast."

"I see, you just remembered that now," I say.

It's $200 cheaper but will be gone soon, says he.

It's comfortable too.

I don't know what to do and I'm still paranoid about what I am going to be told at work tomorrow about student comments, possibly resulting in my being warned (3 warnings = fired) or my quitting in anxiety and giving upness. Yeah, it's vaguely paranoid but i'm usually right about these meetings coming up. If this happeens, I won't buy a bed right away.'

"I'll be back, " I tell salesman, and I add, "why, really now, would you buy a mattress anywhere else."

I also went, despite stomach problems (I may have mentioned that) to the West Vancouver Library. It's a beautiful day and West Van/North Van I love, as I lived there for 8 years. The West Van. library feels like safety and all is well to me. I took out a few books, they have back copies of Walrus magazine and I read some newspapers in their very comfortable chairs. Cozy. Then I went to the North Vancouver city library and Blenz coffee, for a strawberry iced tea and a muffin. I still need to eat, despite crippling intestinal difficulties.

finally,l I went to the place where I lived for almost 8 years people, from 29-37 at Forbes and 15th. A beautiful house. I owned the house. No, no, I rented a room basically. Dixie, the owner and a lovely Christian woman about 62 years old now I think, was away. Her garden in the front and back yard is amazing now and just beautiful. She has also painted the outside of the house. BEAUTIFUL HOUSE. Just beautiful. so that was really nice.

stomachache, moving, 9/11, blah blah

Well. Let me begin with the state of the stomach. I've been having awful stomach aches the last week or so. Starts out the night before, right after I eat, roiling and etc. and continues into the next day. On and off. Friday I was actually fine, enjoyed Mexican food with the students. Last night it came back full force and this morning I feel rather awful. I won't go into the gastrointestinal details, much to the fanbase relief. Not sure what is happening - side effect or virus or something. I don't like it because it makes you feel crappy and because I like to be able to eat you know, all of the time.
Anyway.
I'm getting excited about moving. I like having a whole month to get things together. I've sifted through all my junk, throwing out things that I don't need. Nice. And yes, I am moving to a dodgy area, I do know this but oddly, it doesn't bother me that much. Just bring your gun when you visit.
So tomorrow is the big fifth anniversary. For some reason I can never remember if we in Canada go day/month/year or month/day/year. Of course this 9/11 should help, as we do it opposite of the Americans. That is my big revelation for the fifth anniversary.
Yesterday, fan base, I had another blind date. It didn't suck completely.

hmmm

hmmm. i don't have a lot to say and yet I know my fan base gets antsy when I don't blog regularly. They worry.
hey, the Vancouver International Film Festival will be Sept. 28-Oct. 13. It starts right when I am moving, so I may not make much on the first weekend but after that I am all over it.
What else? hmmm. I'm feeling all anxious/paranoid/vaguely not with reality about work lately. I don't know, the classes I had this four-week session - which is ending tomorrow, the session that is, were not very successful overall. The students and I didn't jibe very well, particularly in the morning class, which I have every day. And, of course, it is an evaluation month, where the students get to say whatever the heck they want anonymously. They'll be scrambling in their dictionaries to find just the right words to describe me. Great. I know I've been feeling more anxious these days, which results in an even shorter temper on my part. Which the students sense (like animals they can sense it all). Which makes me more uptight and so the circle goes. I become almost apopletic (sp?) with worry. What happens is my boss reads the evaluations and calls me in when there are problems. This has happened too much to me again lately. I need a break or something I realize, but with moving to a more expensive place, my expenses are of course going up quite alot, so I can't afford an unpaid stress leave. I'm hoping I'm just having a bad several months and that things will settle down again for me. I'm trying to do relaxing things for me like reading, hanging out, going to movies, exercising. I jogged for half an hour tonight after work, despite my decrepit knees.
Ultimately, of course, I will get into a different field of work. You keep saying that, Karen, you say. True enough. I'm just not sure what I'm qualified to do that I can make a living at. I know that I need something more gentle on my soul. Don't get me wrong, teaching isn't rocket science and my hourly wage is excellent (and if it were full time hours I'd be laughing all the way to the bank) but the unfortunate part of it is the constant evaluation from students. Yes, every job there are evaluations, but none so strong on your personality. And I let it get to me way too much, I know that.
Now don't worry, oh wee fan base. On to other topics,lest I perseverate even more.
I saw this rather awful show last night about these four young girls - 18 and down to about 1 I think, from two British families, all of whom had this incredibly rare skin disease called Harlequin something. Anyway, I only caught the last half so I don't know exactly what it did. But it did cause their skin to peel and fall off and be red all of the time and they didn't have much hair and one was blind from it. They looked awful really, even the wee one year old. And I watched this for no reason other than the morbid fascination of it. Poor wee things. Happily, scientiss have just located the gene or something or protein and in the next year or two will be able to add stuff to their cream to help them out. Sniffle. I think I need to watch more uplifting things.
What else? Anyone have a joke? Good or bad, clean or dirty (and for some reason on that I think particularly of Schnee and Sleepy), let's hear it.

wowza

Okay, this is a bit freaky. Sleepy, www.serialinsomniac.blogspot.com fellow blogger, mentioned in her latest post that she wished Steve Irwin would die. Jokingly, of course, in a pet peeve type of way. And this morning we discover that Steve Irwin has died!!!!!!!!! Perhaps she is the second coming of Christ? Be nice to her is all I'm saying. And Janis I tried to link Sleepy but it kept coming up not found.Oh and I found a place to live!!!!!!! That ovenless place didn't work out (that's okay, I was obsessing about the lack of oven and it's smallness). Yesterday afternoon I found an actual apartment in an actual apartment building. Third floor, corner suite. Seventies decor as is to be expected, but it is quite big, with a balcony and a nice view. It's all together about $200 more a month than I currently pay and no flooding. It's in a bit of a dodgy area - Nanaimo and Dundas but the area has improved somewhat. Well, yeah, five cars in the building's lot got vandalized on Saturday night but my car is old anyway. Seriously, it's an okay area and right outside of the building is the bus stop. excellent.
So I'm going to move - lots to do. Have to buy a bed, a bit of furniture, pack! I have almost four weeks though so that's good. I'm kind of verklempt - I'll miss my little abode by Trout Lake. Well, i'll only be a 10 minute drive from it now or if my car breaks down, a 20-minute bus ride. I do get attached to places, even dysfunctional places. I always felt safe here (well, despite the flooding), it is very quiet and the landlords are right upstairs. All things considered, they have been kind. oh well, it will be great to have more light. Of course now I'm obsessing - did I see a heat thermostat? Can I control the heat. Etc. etc. etc. I am a worrier.
Last day off and back to work. I might have a blind date today. Eeek.

various thoughts from a tired person

Well, hello. Let me just start off with this, fan base, the rental market in Vancouver is tighter than than than a tightrope. Yeah, tighter than that. I haven't looked for a place in two years when I found my cute but sadly chronically flooding basement suite. It's a cute little 595 square foot place, well, with not a lot of light but a good-sized kitchen, inexpensive (comparatively) and a year and a half ago I had 25 people in here for my 39th birthday and it was quite comfortable. Lots of storage space. I found it really quickly off of the great Craigslist.

Well, one septic tank flooding too many last week got me finally off of my butt. "You'll find lots," assured work colleague and pal Kristina, "just get up early." She wants me out of this basement suite, like now.

So yesterday - Sept. 1, I had the day off so I started looking at apartments in the Commercial Drive area, my preferred area. I am hoping to get a real apartment this time in a building. Just not the ground floor, too dangerous. Not a thing. I walked for two hours, up and down and down and up and all around.

I looked on Craigs list, I called places. No answer, no return call or the places were gone or they had a wait list of 40 people. Today, after 3 hours of restless sleep (yup, that's me with the stress of this) I got up at 7:30, got on Craigslist and the Vancouver Sun classifieds. I called about 10 places. Gone, now answer, etc. I did look at one "garden level" suite off the Drive this morning - hardwood floors, one-bedroom, no oven but a gas stove, fridge, big window in the living room, owners upstairs, soundproofing in the bedroom, laundry on site. Small though and a bit claustrophobic. For Nov. 1. "I'll take it," I told the nice landlady/owner of house/upstairs person, "I'll write a damage deposit now." No, no, said she, she has about 10 other people lined up to look at it. "Who knew how great the response would be,' she said, promising to call me within a week. A great location though.

Off I went to call and try to find a few other things. Nothing. There is a place at Nanaimo/Hastings being shown on Tuesday - a second floor apartment with balcony. Not my preferred location but beggars can't be choosers and such.

So you get the idea, I exaggerate not. I exaggerate a lot but not about this. It's kind of wrecking my weekend but I have two days left of the weekend and am not going to spend anymore time on this right now. I can't believe the rental market in Vancouver, crazy.

New topic. Hey, here are a couple of article links that are interesting. First - http://www.motherjones.com/mojoblog/archives/2006/08/people_here_in.html

and on a lighter note - http://www.cbc.ca/story/health/national/2006/09/01/health-hygiene.html

What else? Well, my friends Chris and Michelle are on the plane to Paris right now - through Frankfurt so 14 crazy hours. I know for Charles de Gualle airport. Then customs, baggage, find the hour-long shuttle to Charles de Gualle Etoile. Yikes, I don't envy that in the least but I do envy their three-week trip through Paris and Provence. Michelle was so excited it's awesome. She is so organized too - she sent me a copy of their itinerary of what they will do each day. Well, at least it's not hour by hour. Ha! It's very sweet. She asked for my Paris guru advice, seeing as I've, you know, been there all of twice. "Throw out the itinerary," said I, "and just wander aimlessly through the streets." They are only in Paris for three days and want to do the Louvre. "Skip that," I suggested. That would eat up a whole day. And Provence - I haven't been there and they are renting a friend's parents house for dirt cheap. Amazing! I think I've spelled Charles de Gualle wrong. Jani, please correct me as I am too lazy to look it up.
Oh and for my fan base in Vancouver - I just discovered that Cafe du Soleil on Commercial Drive makes the BEST veggie burger that I have ever, ever, ever had. My god it was an experience.
I'm going to go read. I have today's paper and seriously about 10 books with two more on hold at the library and 2 literary mags I bought today and a bunch of books I bought in London and here. It's crazy, I think. Having lots of books makes me feel more secure in a crazy world.
And finally, today's friend I am thankful for (don't worry, Janis, your time is coming for a full blog entry about you) - Tracy. She never reads my blog (something about having a life) but nonetheless, I dig her completely. She's amazing in a hip and funky way. She was my "character reference" for that place on the Drive and she called the woman before she called her! So funny. She said all of these great things and while she couldn't say, "Karen loves kids," she did say, "she is used to kids." (the owners/upstairs tenants have a 6-month old). "I like kids," I said later. She laughed for awhile. I love that honesty too.
Oh and one more thing fan base - I'm wanting to buy a laptop because my desktop is dying slowly and is 7 years old (windows 98 - how embarrassing) and it freezes all of the time and is on its last legs. I want a not too expensive one. Any advice?