Requisite

Mum tells me I should post. She's about all I've got for an anxious audience member. Apparently she's just longing for an update on my life - while I'm living with her. Good thing we can use real live communication, eh?
There's not been much going on, really, besides the requisite Christmas and family stress. It seems like some things should get less awkward, but they never do. Add to that, my younger sisters are 17 and 18 and mostly not that interested in "family time." I mean, I get it - I was seventeen once too! But since none of Mel, Chris, Granny or Grampy came up (who were all here last year) when the kids took off the ski hill Christmas morning, and Mum went to bed after her night shift, I spent the day solo. I guess it's hard not to feel sorry for yourself when you're esentially spending Christmas day alone.
Still, we did our turkey dinner (which, since we didn't have one in October, we actually called Thanksgiving) on Boxing Day and once Emily got home from work, we had quite a bit of fun! I asked Mum to buy Cranium Turbo Edition, and she obliged me, and that was quite lovely. I really like the game, since it has a bit of something for everyone.
The next night, which was in fact last night, I got to play it again! A few of us went over to Amber's for a games night. And! My team won! I also tied for second in the other game (Chantal's Apples to Apples) and beat Andrew at darts - much to the bane of his competetive nature. I loved it, since I never play darts, but I know it was purely luck! Now if I could just get him to stop beating me at poker...which we're playing an online game of right now - so I'd better go pay attention!

Checking In

Well, I haven't much to say at this particular moment in time, though last night taught me that Wii Bowling and Boxing as well as Real Life Sledding are all quite fun.
A very merry Christmas (or Hannukah, or Holiday of Your Choice) to anyone reading tonight. If you need something for your mouse to nibble on, please head on over and see the recent pictures I posted up at Flickr, including a few new ones from my trip to visit my grandparents on The Island.

Oh, The Inanity!

Bored. Sleepy. Sore. Somehow, none of this is news. And yet, here I am at the keyboard. Maybe it's as simple as it's something to do, but I think it's more about the modicum of connection it represents.
I had coffee with an old friend today. She spent last year in Austria, came home for a few months, and is moving to Ontario in a few days. I think we barely saw each other twice - and not because we didn't want to, but because we were busy and stressed and even if we did book a date, something always came up. We manage to catch up on msn most of the time, but that doesn't always work out: I found out she was moving by reading her blog. She's been dating her boyfriend for months, but today was the first time I saw a picture of him. He was here a couple months ago, too, but it never panned out to meet in person.
It's odd, the way things work out, or don't. We've been friends since we were 14, and I think we'll keep being friends, I'm just not sure what sort of spin that relationship will take. We're growing apart more than just physically (after all, she's 5'1"...wait...that wasn't what I meant?) It seems we're having a "values shift" and a lot of the core things that held us together don't seem to hold true anymore.
It's difficult to see those with whom you shared a passion compromise it for something else. I know we all make our own choices, of course, and I'm certainly not going to stop being friends with someone simply because we lose a common ground. But it makes it a lot harder, and even if we're willing, it doesn't always work out.
It seems like a lot of people have grown away, apart. Part of it's the natural progression of pairing off, having kids, that sort of thing. It leaves me feeling a bit left behind sometimes. If everyone keeps changing, and I can't get out of a rut, will I be alone?

Time Warp

Well, I've had quite the day! It started off a 6am, with a plan to head to my grandparents' place only a few days in the making. Travelling any extent in the winter is fun, let alone over a highway that reaches 1244 metres (4147 ft) at its summit.
After some worrying, and Robyn deciding she had a bad feeling about it and wouldn't feel right joining me, I checked the webcams set up at the toll booth and decided to chance it at 8am. The weather was fine - even sunny at times - and the roads, if not bare, were at least well-groomed. (Oddly enough, this makes me think they had trimmed mustaches.)
As I got down the mountain and more into the vicinity of Hope, it seemed like I'd done a bit of travelling back in time. There weren't snowdrifts on the ground, but leaves. Whole branches and limbs, too, due to the remnants of a tropical storm that hit the lower mainland recently. I didn't quite make the 12:45 ferry as I'd hoped (Unsurprising, given my departure time was an hour and a half later than actually planned. Being five minutes too late to catch the ferry was rather insignificant.) (MORE BRACKETS!)(This does not mean that I drove too fast, Mum, just that the conditions were better than expected.) I stopped at Quizno's for lunch, and perfected my oft-practiced art of eating alone - bring a book, and smile at the cute kids. I got to the next sailing plenty early, and read and walked the deck for the two hour ferry ride.
Once I got to The Island (I love B.C., and how we act as though we have the only island in the world. Or that Vancouver Island is the only island in British Columbia, for that matter.) the season incongruence became even more evident. Everything here is amazingly green and lush - and the car's temperature guage never dipped below zero. I didn't get the least bit lost (which is only slightly unusual) and arrived at "The Gs'" just in time for dinner at 6:30.
The time warp became the most rapid and evident during our pre-dinner chatter. Checking in on the progress of my recording, Grampy asked, "So how are things coming along on your LP? Or is it CD-Rom now?" I replied, trying (completely unsuccessfully to restrain my laughter) "It's just CD, Grampy, and it's doing alright. We've got the music for four songs, and now I have to do the fill and vocals for those four. Then I need to looking into selling my piano to finance the rest."
Grampy: "So four songs won't really be enough for a marketable product?" (<-note the intelligent dialogue. My Grampy is a very smart man; he just got a little stuck.)
Me: "No, Grampy, four songs won't quite do it."
Him: "Oh, I guess you need something for the other side."
Me: "Side?" *Confusion. Prompty followed by hysterical laughter.*
I adore my grandparents. But I'm pretty sure I just travelled back in time. And I'm also quite sure I need to forward this story to the sound engineer/studio owner. I think he just might appreciate it.
More adventures to come, I'm sure.

Steady On!

Well, recovery's back on an upward swing, and mostly now I'm just sore. I did a bunch of running around today - to Costco (eek!), Safeway (and I actually had to get help out with my groceries. I felt like such a wimp.) Then back to Mum's to cook dinner like she asked me to - though she asked for shake-and-bake chicken and a caesar salad, and well, I just don't roll like that. I figured it wasn't much more complicated to make a good dinner as opposed to a mediocre one. It's just a little more time, and that I have plenty of right now.
So, on the menu? To start, cranberry field green salad with a lime vinaigrette (with my new secret ingredient.) Then, the main course is walnut-crusted apple and goat cheese stuffed chicken breasts, with sides of steamed baby carrots and garlic mashed potatoes.
I'm rather glad I've got my appetite back!!

Still not dead...

And also not wishing for it quite as often, as the pain's getting better. Today is worse than yesterday, but still better than the day before. And here I thought it'd be constant improvement. Well, phblt to that.
Still, nothing interesting to say, sorry. All I'm doing is sitting around, trying not to move too much...and nobody's even home to keep me company. My family's way too busy. :-/
Oh! But Emily (The One Who Is Not My Sister) came to visit me last night - and brought chocolate! And Pam and Robyn came by today and brought me a wee teddy bear from Pam's mum that has a band-aid over its tummy. I feel so loved. :-)

Not Dead!

Well, ya'll, I have good news. They were able to do the surgery laparoscopically and didn't have to cut me wide open. My tummy is this hot pink colour from the antiseptic, and it looks like the world's worst sunburn. Still, I'm pretty darn uncomfortable and in a "decent" amount of pain, even after the pills. So I think I'm gonna lay down for a while, now that I've let you guys know I survived. Ciao.

Nerves of Adamantium

When steel just won't do the trick...okay, so to be honest, my nerves (and knees) are feeling more akin to Jello.
I'm scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning - a laparoscopic cholecystectomy. Anything with that many syllables has to be frightening, eh? Really, I know I'll be okay. It's essentially quite a low-risk surgery. And having experienced the pain of gall bladder attacks, I can fairly confidently say it's better than the alternative.
Besides, I'm such a really tough grown-up - my mommy is coming with me. She'll hold my hand 'til I'm passed off to the OR nurses, and then soon after that I'll be knocked out anyway.
Part of what scares me, though, is that I'll be out of control. And that people who neither know me nor care for me will have rather unfettered access to this poor excuse of a body. They're professionals, and I know it's unreasonable - my mum was an OR nurse for years, I know it's not as bad as all that. I know that if all goes well, there's absolutely nothing to be afraid of, and though recovery will be unpleasant, it shouldn't be too long or exceptionally painful.
But that's if all goes well. There's still a possibility that they won't be able to do the surgery laparoscopically. When I spoke with the surgeon, he said this chance was extremely slim. All my parts seem to be in the right places, so they should be able to get to them okay. But if they can't? If they have to actually cut me open? Then I'll be in the hospital for a week. And I really hate hospitals. Yeah, I used to make deliveries there, and I've been in to visit Mum innumerable times, but it's an entirely different proposition when you're a patient. It's far too much time spending staring at a sterile, white ceiling. Even when I was only there for a few hours a couple years ago, I hated it. I felt a terrible lack of control, and the whole experience just seems embarrassing. I know there are good nurses and hospital staff who do their best to treat patients with dignity, but I'm still scared.
Still, it won't be that bad, as long as the surgery goes well, I'll be in and out inside of a day. The week-long stay is an unlikely possibility. But just thinking about it makes me start to shake. So please, pray (or send happy wishes, if that's your thing) that it'll go well?

Enough with the thinking!

Oh my word. I have my cognitive psychology exam today. I meant to spend a lot more time studying yesterday than I did. Instead I ended up spending several hours working on a relationship. Crying, yelling, and intervention oh my! It sucked, and it was very hard, but I'm immeasurably glad that we talked about it and got our friendship back on steady footing. It really is so good to know that people care about you. To wit, at the end of our meeting...
Reference: A few months ago, someone hurt me pretty bad, and we still haven't discussed it, as that party appears to be unwilling. When it first happened, Dan (who I was dealing with yesterday) saw me crying and said, "Who hurt you? I'll kill him." Rarely have I felt so protected and loved.
Today, after Dan and I had been at odds for over a week, and had just fought it out for several hours, we were sort of debriefing...
Me:"I'm sorry for crying so much. I know it tends to invoke a certain reaction in most men (Fix.Now.) I didn't mean it to be manipulative or anything (I've been accused of that before.) Really I just can't help crying. I've tried! Like that time with SoandSo."
Dan:"Hey, it's okay. We all cry. I even cry sometimes."
Me:"Yeah...You know, he still hasn't spoken to me."
Dan: (immediately) "SON OF A BITCH!!!"
Me: "Haha. Thanks."
Dan: "Uh, sorry. That wasn't very pastor-like. Swearing, in a church no less."
Me: "It's okay; it's Mike's office - it doesn't count."
I'm glad we're okay. What was a fairly complicated fight got broken down into us agreeing to be nicer to each other.
My eyes are still puffy today, though. Several hours of crying will do that. (As previously established, I don't cry pretty. My friend Michelle said, "Hey, we can't all be Demi Moore.") I'm having a hard time keeping them open this morning. Of course, that may have something to do with the fact that I only slept from 12-4 after an exhausting day. I had my alarm set for six, to get up and study, but I figured since I woke up at four, I might as well take advantage of the extra cram time. So I'd better go back to that now.
Wish me luck - I totally need it! Oy.

People Suck

If the title didn't tip you off, I'll let you know right now that you'll need to look elsewhere for your Christmas Cheer.
I try very hard to be a good friend. I know I'm not always successful, and I know that some of my moods should come with warning labels. I get that I'm not easy, I really do. But I work at being nice, at doing kind things for people, at saying encouraging things.
I don't know what I'm missing, but people always seem to find something lacking. Half the time, I'm honestly left wondering what on earth happened. I'm so confused, and hurt and feeling left out and unloved.
Pout.
I'm seriously considering becoming a hermit. With internet access, of course.

'Cuz Tom Hanks Said So

Ok, deep breathing now. I've got my statistics final in twenty-five minutes. I think I've crammed everything I possibly can into my head, and all I can say at this point is: Thank God this exam is open book. If nothing else, I'm definitely going to need to look up the ridiculously profuse use of Greek letters.
I'm about this close to a panic attack. I'm in the International Building, which is infinitely quieter than Old Main, which is definitely helping. Listening to the people around me - studying Animal Biology (the parts of a cat's brain, to be specific.) and some Arts stuff..."Who's that crazy guy?" "Um, that doesn't really narrow it down..." Several minutes pass. "Oh, I know. Andy Warhol." Well then.
I forgot to spray my suede boots again, or rather neglected to buy the stuff in order to spray my boots. I bought the spray at WalMart today, but little good that does me now. My boots are wet, my socks are wet, and of course, by extension, my feet are wet. This alone makes me want to go home and hide under a blanket. Possibly a heated one.
I want to cry. But that's really about the least constructive thing I could do.
Besides, there's no crying in baseball. Or statistics, apparently.

Escape Plan

Oh, Lordy, I can't wait for exams to be over! If I have to look at another statistical problem again - ever - after this Wednesday? I will go completely bonkers. So far the stuff I'm reviewing seems nice and easy. ie, The New York Yankees have a 0.6 probability of winning the World Series. Two other teams have a lesser but equal chance...yada yada lol. Anyway, what it boils down to is simple algebra and while it took a minute to remember exactly how to do that, it was quite easy, because if we know all the probabilities, and they're not convergent, they have to add up to one. Or something. Isn't the world lucky that I'm not teaching this stuff? heh.
Anyhow. On Saturday morning before I started recording (shortly after I last posted, in fact) I went down to the church to practice and sort some things out for the session. And I did practice and run through scales and such, but more than anything, it was just a chance to unwind and just....breathe, on some sort of deeper level.
A lot people think about running away to a tropical island, or a wild African safari, or anywhere that people stop talking about Paris Hilton.
Me, I dream about a quiet room and a piano. Okay...maybe a tropical island with a (Weather-protected) grand piano...a wood finish grand. Ahem. Anyway.
There's a lot of escapism for me, sitting in front of a piano, and I don't even have to write (though I usually end up doing so.) Playing scales is relaxing. (I'm a freak.)
Someday, I will have my own home, and a real live piano in it. Someday.

What now?

Well, as much fun as I had with Becca the other night (we stayed up and watched MI3 and Take the Lead) I really shouldn't have done it. I'm all backwards - and my sleep "schedule" (ha!) is screwed up enough to begin with.
This morning, I don't think I'm writing because I have something invaluable to say, (like I usually do?) but because I have nothing else to do! So thrilling.
I'm in the studio again today, and that's at least part of the reason why I'm losing sleep. At $50/hr, how precisely we spend our time in the sound booth becomes a major stress point. I'm working with a wonderful group of guys, and they're doing a great job - but, much like me, they're not infallible musically. And so we screw up, and we do it again. And I have to remind myself that it's all part of the experience, and not to worry so much about what's going to happen when we inevitably run out of money.
How is it that I have so little faith? I've been provided for, amazingly, time and time again. School, conferences, a large chunk of what CD money I do have wasn't pre-ordered copies but rather a gift given in faith.
I'm terrified that I'm going to let people down. It seems that so many people believe in me, but I know it to be unfounded.
Breathe. One day at a time, right?
It's still dark outside...
I need the sun to rise.

Finish Line