Effervescent
writerly girl seeks opportunity to put pen to paper.
Writing style is alternately described as humourous,
flippant and offbeat. If
you have a publishing adventure you'd like to share,
drop
this girl a line.
It's
raining sheet and sheets. In fact, this morning it was
more like ice and less like rain.
Lovely
lovely husband of mine came home from work to pick Emma
up from nursery school and drive her to JK. That meant
my feet stayed dry.
I've
been feeling sluggish today, so I did some shopping.
I discovered that I can buy postage online at canadapost.ca.
Yahoo! I found some Riopelle stamps that are really
pretty, as well as a bunch of other stuff. Thus inspired,
I finished a postcard I've been working on. This is
the
front of it.
Tomorrow,
I am taking an arty metal workshop. I hope I get to
wear coveralls and wield a big torch. Wish me luck!
a
<thursday
march 4, 2004 - 7:13 a.m.>
Youngest
is quarantined with pinkeye today. (Is it my imagination
or is my right eye feeling a little gritty this morning...?)
It's
times like these that I realize how different she is
from her sister.
Sarah:
sobs in fear at the doctor's office, refuses to let
him look in her eye (which can be problematic if that's
what she's there for), but when it comes to getting
the drops she's pretty good. She doesn't like it but
will succumb with a little bit of coaxing.
Emma:
pretty comfortable with the doctor, is easily amused
by the promise of stickers, but when it comes to getting
drops in her you need a second pair of (adult) hands
to keep her still.
Having
kids is weird. There are days when I hardly believe
that I'm a parent.
a
<monday
march 1, 2004 - 10:17 a.m.>
Oh,
so here's me in my in my new
winter coat. I blocked out my face because I have
the tendency to grin like an idiot. And Mark doesn't
take good pictures of me. :P
[transcribed
from notes scribbled in my notebook last night]
When
the mood strikes I can be a very good multi-tasker.
For example, at this very moment I am watching the Oscars,
drinking a cup of superheated milkwithvanillaandonecubeofsugar,
reading an interior design magazine (which depresses
the crap out of me), writing this, and thinking about
numerous Important Issues and one nekkid woman. But
more about that later.
Mental
rambling one: Why am I watching the Oscars? Answer:
because I like to see what people are wearing. I also
like to see Hollywood stars look nervous on the podium,
a shooting gallery where many are revealed to be human...
and a few fries short of a happy meal. I like it when
they goof. I also like it when they deviate from the
script. Otherwise I think the Oscars are a waste of
time, money and energy. Why can't we be the kind of
society who rolls out the snazzy red carpet and honour
scientific achievements? Isn't our idolatry of Hollywood
a little misplaced? Why does Nicole Kidman have to look
like a popsicle stick ... and I'm not talking about
just her body shape, but the colour of her hair/skin.
Ugh.
Mental
rambling two: After my fitness class I was in the changeroom
when I noticed one of the head EWEs come out of the
shower. (If you're not sure what I'm referring to you
will have to go back a little
bit.)
I'm
not sure what guys do in the changeroom, but women go
to great lengths to check each other out, and not be
noticed doing it. It is subtle. It is brutal.
Did
I check her out - standing there in full and defenseless
nudity? I sure did. She had no hand weights, there was
not exercise mat, BOSU or lycra/cotton blends to hide
behind. It was just a few moments of peripheral sighting
but it was enough.
It
was enough to firmly solidify my theory that people
look sexier when they're dressed. I include myself in
this grand generalization.
But
don't think that I was the only one doing the looking.
I could feel her eyes burning into the tender and unused
muscles between my (very sore) shoulder blades. The
difference was that I wasn't showing much skin. I was
just changing out of my gym shorts into jeans. But she
was totally checking out my powder-blue Elita-covered
fanny emblazoned with the number three, with the words
"Freestyle" over it.
I do think I have a fairly good boot, as far as things
go. Hers was ok. This EWE is about 10 years older than
I am. I've been seeing her in her spandex for weeks
now. She's extremely fit, yet in those fleeting exposed
moments I saw traces of her age - ones that can't be
willed away no matter how much you exercise or count
calories. Will I be like this someday? Yes. So why is
it so hard to deal with it?
Ah
jeez. I just reread this post. If this doesn't reveal
neurotic body-image issues I don't know what does. <sigh>
I do think I have a fairly good boot, as far as things
go. Hers was ok. This EWE is about 10 years older than
I am. I've been seeing her in her spandex for weeks
now. She's extremely fit, yet in those fleeting exposed
moments I saw traces of her age - ones that can't be
willed away no matter how much you exercise or count
calories. Will I be like this someday? Yes. So why is
it so hard to deal with it?
