Thursday, 23 April 2015

Vacationus Horribilus

Ok. I will state for the record that I am a lucky monkey who doesn't have the right to complain about anything and I am very fortunate and first world problems and what about the children, blah blah blah. We've got that over with, ok? I get it. But I need to tell you about my less than perfect luxury vacation.

I can't call it a horrible vacation, because there were nice moments. Moments.

When we left Toronto, I had the beginnings of a cold. By the time we'd checked into our room, I had a block of cement mucus in my sinus cavity and a fever. You know how the world is slightly off kilter when you have a fever? Ya, I had that. I was literally stumbling around the resort, which, thankfully, went unnoticed, because that is what most people do at these places. But I wasn't stumbling from the mojitos.

Some people slather themselves with suntan lotion whilst on holiday. I slathered myself with Vicks Vap-o-rub. Yes, I bring Vicks Vap-o-rub with me on vacation.

Number of days of torrential rains: 3.5

Highest temperature reached during our week in Cuba: 25C. With windchill it felt more like 15C. Seriously.

The number of vegan options on the menu in our section of the resort: 0
There was one vegetarian option. I ate a lot of french fries and papaya

The number of near-panic attacks I had fuelled by my fever and my super exciting imagination: 3

The number of full on panic attacks in which I was scared that I might die, or even worse, I might throw up in public: 2

Number of nights I lay awake scared that Brian was going to die: 1

Number of nights I lay awake wondering what I would do in case of tsunami: 1

Number of minutes spent in pool: 10

Number of minutes spent in pool before I got a sunburn: 2

Number of minutes spent in ocean: 2

Number of sea urchins that stung Brian on the bottom of his foot: 1, but it was really big and mean.

Number of hours Brian worried that his leg might have to come off due to sting from really mean sea urchin: 4

Number of times Brian sighed because he wasn't able to go on epic countryside runs because of foot swollen after sting from really mean sea urchin: 453

Topics of conversation favoured by Brian, other than not being able to go for a countryside run : 0

Topics of conversation favoured by Ellen, other than current panic attacks being experienced: 0

Number of room service meals ordered because not being in pyjamas was just not an option: 4

Number of activities other than looking for weird inbred resort cats favoured by Ellen: 0

Number of days into vacation when we began missing the pets and wondering what they were thinking: 2 minutes.

Number of days into vacation where we started to want to go home. 2

Sick as crap, sunburned, panicking and sad.

The nicest moment on the trip was when Brian and I looked deep in to each other's eyes and knew, really knew, that we were both having an equally crappy time. it's things like this that make a marriage last.

So we are thinking maybe next year we might enjoy a staycation. Significantly less luxurious but at least we will get what we pay for.

Wednesday, 8 April 2015

Bathtub of Horror

Like most people, I enjoy a good soak in the tub. It's not about getting clean, because, really, you are just sitting in a soup of your own skin cells and hair and fart bubbles. No, if you want clean, take a shower. Bath time is for relaxing and for getting your body back up to normal temperature after having too much frozen smoothie.

In all the apartments I've lived in I've had horrible little 4 foot long tubs where I had to choose between my shoulders or my knees being in the water, unable to stretch out. So, if my shoulders were warm, then my knees were cold and wet, waiting their turn in the soak.

 When I was able to buy my first condo, I was thrilled that it came with a soaker sized jacuzzi tub! Oh the relaxing times I would have with a book and a glass of wine. Just like they show women in the movies when they want "me" time.

Or "Look At Me" time.

Word to the wise, don't spend extra on the jacuzzi tub. That thing sounds like you're sitting next to a jet engine and really doesn't do much more than make you super annoyed and stressed. Ahhhh, I think I'll take a long soaky bath in this screaming water belcher. Not so much.

I have a friend who once had a huge, round jacuzzi tub that had, like, disco lights in it, and a sound system. I felt my life meaningless whenever I saw that tub.

When Weirdo and I bought the house we are in now, again, it came with a jacuzzi tub in the ensuite. It was a good soaker length, so I knew I'd be able to fit my monkey arms and legs in and everyone would be happy and toasty, even if I knew enough to avoid the jacuzzi option.

la la la la la la la la la la

Except by the time it makes its way to the top floor, There is only enough hot water to fill the tub about 25%. And then the rest is tepid, and then plain cold, water. They call this "energy efficiency". I call it straight up hateful. I had to bring a kettle up and boil water several times, adding it to the cooling water, just to get the tub at a temperature where I wasn't having shivering fits while hugging my knees. It wasn't perfect but it worked.

Until I realized that millipedes had set up light housekeeping in the jacuzzi jets of the tub.

this effing thing

So finally I am laying back in the tub, the cares of the day floating away, getting my body temperature to just above reptile, and next to me I spy a little floaty friend with a billion horrifying legs, and razor sharp jaws (probably).

I removed myself from the tub.

Just a one off, perhaps? No. They live in my freaking bath tub. Whole families. Generations of creepy alien insects. A veritable Forsyth Saga of Shuddering.

So I no longer take baths because it's too cold, and too damned terrifying

The cats are fascinated, though, and will sit inside the tub, staring at the nozel like its full of (billion legged) cat treats.

Once in awhile they catch one and I will find only a few rogue icky legs, that might be mistaken for leg hairs, but really aren't.

It's only showers for me, sadly. So I am clean, but cold and unhappy.

There is no God.

Sunday, 1 February 2015

Hi again.

So some woman I don't even know asked me today if I was ever going to post again. She is a quilter I met on Facebook. I have no idea how we are connected. I do not quilt. I have more quilter friends on Facebook than I do, say, people I know from my high school. What I have learned is that quilters are super intense about quilting and they like wine. Anyway, she's a nice lady and so, Teri, you weird stranger, here you are. A new post. And it only took me ten months and one friendly nudge.

 So you're probably wondering what I've been up to. Probably thinking I'm writing a new album, a novel. Maybe I've been travelling. Digging wells in Botswana. Being a volunteer fire fighter.

 Nah. I've been watching TV and eating rice crackers. 

But some stuff has happened. I'll get you caught up.

 We got a new cat. A friend of mine who is way, way more vegan than me, had a cat that needed rescuing. Needed rescuing real hard. So, despite Brian's fear of black cats, we took on our third cat. We named her Mickey, after my mom. But we call her Mertz because that's the sound she makes. Pretty much nonstop. Especially in the early early morning time. She is now Brian's favourite. He says all other cats in the world suck compared to Mickey/Mertz.

 My friend Bill and I did a fundraiser concert in support of Happily Ever Esther, the new farm animal sanctuary for Esther the Wonder Pig and her farm friends. It was my first solo show in, um, 14 years. I was nervous, but we had fun and we sold out 2 shows and with the help of some generous donations of raffle prizes, we raised over $3000.

I cry for the animals.

 Went to Cancun with my friend who exercises a lot and is super hot. She's also smart and funny and nice, so I didn't fill her bikinis with sand and scorpions. She was also kind enough to hold my hand while I had a panic attack for no reason. I'm super fun to travel with.

those are defined abs on my friend. It is not an appendectomy scar.

I had some quality nose picking time.

 I watched some excellent tv and read a couple books.

I learned a new term for the tiny bathing suits that older, overweight men wear: Budgie Smugglers

 I continue to stalk Castle. Not Nathan Fillion. I'm mad at him because he ignores my Twitter shout outs. But the character he plays on TV still gets all my lovin'. I'm a bit concerned that the show has jumped the shark, but I will continue to watch. Because love is like that.

 Bill and I did a show at Christmas. We had special guests join us, including the amazing Peter Lebuis and Megan Saunders and Paula Henry. We sang the songs from the old days.

fa la la la la

 I went to visit my mom.

 I somehow acquired 8 new quilter friends on Facebook. Who the hell are these people?

 I continued to not care about sports.

 That's about it.


See you in 10 months.

 Here is a poem.