I Gave Up Ambition For 2019 (clickbait title)

Can we talk for a second about guilt?

Specifically my  guilt, because I don't know if you've ever felt like this. Or maybe you have?

Do you, as a "creative", feel guilty if you're not doing something All.The.Time?

Do you glance over your shoulder to see if the wolf is almost at the door if you have a few days or weeks to put your feet up?

Ever felt like less of a person because you weren't madly writing your next play/song/book?

Let's talk about this quote for a second:

For the record, I agree with Mr. Tozer 100%. But here's the thing. If we're not taking a little time to enjoy our progress before launching into the next thing, what's the point? 

Let's recap:

Five years ago in January I was subletting an apartment. Then I moved into my brother's place. For three years. I barely got any work in the city, putting all my effort instead into my spring/summer job up north. I had yet to meet my boyfriend. Finding the 500 dollars (!!!) I needed to pay rent for the bedroom I lived in was often a challenge. I had never taught a class. I had almost never performed professionally, except up north.

And now:

It was almost exactly two years ago that I found my sweet little basement suite on Craigslist. I have never had to borrow money to pay the (substantially more than $500) rent, and I've never been late. Not once. I started teaching music classes. I've performed professionally all over the place. My new band has recordings I actually enjoy listening to. In order to help pay for the apartment (and to pursue my theatre dreams instead of playing it safe), I was out of town; away from my home and my love for 25% of the calendar year. 

So here I sit , at 11:30 am, in my Space Kitty onesie and a toque (my apartment is cold in the winter, it turns out). I had a green smoothie for breakfast- part of a regimen of health and lifestyle changes and challenges I'm spicing up my life with- I did my yoga, I was just about to get into the shower... 

And then I thought: I don't have to. I don't work on Thursdays, the onesie was soft and fleecy and warm... 

So I sat my fleece-covered ass down and started writing this post. 

You know, if you've read this blog before, that I struggle with The Hustle. I love my work, but I also love my downtime. I believe strongly in a work-life balance, except for me? the scales will always be more weighted on the Life side. 

I came back from two months away and I started working pretty soon after, but let's be real here: I only work about 20 hours a week right now. I have a sweet deal, because my teaching jobs pay pretty well. So, what's happening during the hours in which I do not work? 

Am I calling colleagues and making connections and generally hustling for the next contract? 

I am not, but I AM calling venues and looking for places to play gigs and gearing up to play regularly with my band after a forced hiatus because I was away for so long.

Am I writing songs?

I am not, but I've started work on adapting a favourite novel into a 1-woman show.

Am I running/doing HIT/going to yoga class?

I am not, but I'm doing 20 minutes of yoga a day at home (thanks, Yoga With Adriene!), drinking green smoothies, cutting out alcohol and coffee, limiting sweets, cooking at home, walking or biking to work, drinking lots of water. 

I'm also learning German. (More on this soon.) I quit using Facebook again (okay, only 2 days so far, but it feels good).

I have a list of goals on my bedroom wall, in colourful post-its. I am actively working on most if not all of them. 

I'm also watching more Netflix and YouTube videos than I have in ages. In my onesie. 

This is precious time for- much as I loathe the term- Self Care. Precious time to enjoy my home  and re-connect with my sweetheart after being away for 8 weeks. 

So, do I have a takeaway from this post? Is this just monstrous self-justification for a month of laziness? 

Perhaps. 

But you know, when I stop feeling guilty, I realize that I also feel... happy. Would I want all my months to look like this? Well no, but I also don't want all my months to be frantically busy, either. 

I think we- as women, but also as a culture of creative, self-employed people- are conditioned to sacrifice, to be uncomfortable, to hustle, to be overburdened.

 [Read this post, by a blogger I adore, if you want to get an idea of what it means to be juggling too many things.]

When we don't feel like this: stressed out, exhausted, juggling multiple projects, we feel guilty for not Doing It All. What bullshit. 

I have a holiday booked for this summer. When it rolls around, I want very much to feel that I earned it with a lot of honest, hard work. But when the soft times come, I also want know that I savoured them in the best ways I could, with leisure and self-improvement and domestic pleasures.

And then, just maybe, the wolf at the door will also just lie down on your doorstep and take a little nap. 

To Be A Rock and Not To Roll

Good gravy! Is anyone else having trouble yanking themselves out their holiday torpor, or is it just me? This December I had a dangerously seductive combination of (just) enough money, and plenty of time off, and I'm a bit ashamed to say that I really did very little over the holidays. I read, I lazed with the cats, I didn't even see many friends, if I'm going to be honest. I was a wee bit of a hermit, and I kind of liked it. 

But now the New Year is here, with all of its
New! 
Fresh!
Beginnings! 
Jolting me unwillingly out of my comfortable little rut and back into the fast lane.

Jay sent me a link to this lovely little animated video. Go ahead, watch it. It won't take long:

"I feel like that rock," I admitted to him the other day. "All this stuff keeps happening to me and I just want to... sleep." 

I feel a strange kinship with the sleepy little rock in this movie, who just wants to rest, but keeps being yanked into the most extraordinary situations, kind of like an inanimate Forrest Gump. 

Which is making me face an uncomfortable truth about myself:

I am the kind of person who lets things happen to them rather than making things happen. 

Which isn't to say I haven't had an amazing professional life. Let's see, I've

• played live gigs in Istanbul
• spent 5 summers doing historical theatre in a gold rush town
• made my living (kinda) as a freelance musician
• played in all kinds of bands, from Turkish to left-wing folk to Slavic soul
• worked for all kinds of theatre companies in Vancouver and elsewhere, from tiny struggling companies to some of the top professional companies in the city. 

...and all kinds of other good stuff.

But imagine how much more interesting it could be if I made my own plans?

If I said 

• I'm going to write and perform my own 1-woman show.
• I'm going to record an EP or album this year and get some of my talented friends to play on it.
• I'm going to take classes and learn something new this year to make myself more hireable.
• I'm going to actively improve my singing and piano playing.
• I'm going to contact more seniors' homes and get them to book me as an entertainer, rather than waiting for them to call me. 

Wow! I just came up with most of that stuff in 5 minutes! Imagine what could happen if I put some real time into making my life happen. 

But making your life happen instead of letting life happen takes courage.

It means letting go of your (my) fear of rejection and ridicule.

It means working hard, every day. 

It means never getting comfortable, always challenging yourself to try something new, something scary, something hard. 

But there are so many rewards, and my own history proves this. 

When I decided to apply for a music director job on the BC Arts Alliance website, I made a connection that would lead to six years of demanding, rewarding, life-changing work in a northern town.

When I left a stagnant relationship, I opened myself up to new adventures, and it gave myself and my ex-partner a new lease on life.

When I say 'yes' to teaching a class that I don't know much about at the music school where I work, I learn so much, and feel way more relaxed and at ease the next time I am challenged to take on something new.
I decided on a whim to go to Seattle and take a class with a yoga teacher who really inspired me. It was a wonderful weekend.

When I took decided to join a dating website, I met a wonderful man. And yes, I was the one who contacted him! In fact, he'd gone on to the site that day to shut down his profile, as he hadn't had any success, and then he saw my message. So...

When you take action, amazing things can happen. And yeah, I know that I sound like a goddamn motivational speaker on TedTalks right now, but I'm psyching myself up, yo. 

Today I got up, went for a run, did yoga, and worked- actually worked- on some stuff when I found out I had extra time because a meeting got cancelled. It's the first day in this new year that I can actually say that I felt supercharged with energy and purpose. And yeah, I know I'll backslide, but I really do believe that there can be a snowball effect. After all, as that cute little cartoon shows, an object in motion tends to stay in motion. 

The time for being a sleepy little rock is past! 

If I can look back at 2016 next January and honestly say that I took more control of my life, I will be beyond proud, even if I failed at some things. Especially if I failed, because that means that I put myself out on a limb, big-time. 

Because I'd like to say "Oh, torpor? Apathy? That's so 2015!" 

Sick Day.

The baby cat is delighted to have company at 9am. She darts around my room, stopping to weave happily against my legs or rub her furry body against mine. Although I love her, I am not so delighted this morning.
I am home because I am sick. Strep Throat, or something else that has made my tonsils pop up like golf balls. I sleep for over 8 hours, and I wake up feeling like hmmm, I could use a nice long nap right about now. 
I don't have time for this! I was supposed to be at the pumpkin patch today, on the last of the really busy days, working 6 or 7 hours to give my paycheque a final boost. I've been pushing through the last few days, but last night I realized that there was no way I could go in today, and I called in sick. I never call in sick.
I am seeing a sexy-hot motorcycle-driving man who thinks I am- to use the words of my 19 year-old friend- the bomb. I had to cancel our date last night because I realized that I was too tired and sick to even take pleasure in the thought of making out with him, let alone the reality. Not to mention that when you have infected tonsils your mouth tastes as though something died in it. He texts with offers of hot soup or a ride (in a car co-op car, not the bike), and I thank him and refuse. I've known him for less than 2 weeks; I don't want the sick, hairy-legged version of me to make an appearance in our lives just yet.

Last night I went shopping for late-night snacks with my brother and it was as though a split personality had taken over: in my stash were lemons, ginger, Kombucha, superfood-salad-mix... and also jalapeño cheese puffs, Skor Bites and Sour Cherry Blasters. I ate a bit of all those things last night and let me tell you, the health foods and the non-health foods were both equally delicious.
I get my computer out to do some accounting while I sip my green tea. Three hours later I've switched to coffee, the receipts are still un-tallied, and I've been Facebooking, blogging, and looking at online boot and clothing sites for far too long. Fail.
The baby cat flops onto a patch of sunlight and rubs against the other cat until she starts grooming her. Love me. I feel too horrible to love: sore, tired, unwashed.
Time to slow down, whether I want to or not. I check the calendar to make sure: yep, it's been only 2 & a 1/2 weeks since I got back and a myriad of things have occurred: friends, dates, passion, concerts, dinners, music, rehearsals, workworkwork... I read one of my sister-in-law's health mags this morning: Average time before readers think you should see someone before sleeping with them: 3.9 months. 
Oops.
I guess my body made an executive decision amidst all this craziness and just shut me down the only way it could: by disabling me for a while. Time to take a me-day or two.

Bro & sis-in-law have left town again, so I'm back at their downtown pad with these guys:

"Breakfast. NOW."

"I only lie on the floor when I'll be right in your way."

It's a nice life. I need the space and solitude to get some big assignments done for school, so this 4-day Easter weekend away from home is a godsend. I have the peace to get my work done, and having a dog around means that I have to take breaks from work and get out in the spring sunshine. It's all about balance, baby. Being right downtown among the water and the parks and the coffee shops is also great. (I know, we have all of those things in abundance in my neighbourhood too, but it's nice to experience some different ones). I got up at 8 this morning, walked the dog for half an hour, came home and ate breakfast, and worked for 4 hours on my arranging assignment. Then another dog-walk, followed by internet browsing and blogging. I have a band gig late tonight so it's nice to be mellow this afternoon.

The end is nigh, at least where school is concerned. If I can get through this week then there will be little else to worry about in the way of assignments. I only have a few exams and although of course I'll be studying I'm not worried about any of them. The luxury of doing well all year is that I don't have a lot of last-minute cramming to do. I'll be getting ready for my move up north once school winds down, and taking a short road-trip with my mom. We only live hours away from Seattle, and I haven't spent any time there for years. We'll be going to this restaurant and this bar which are owned by my favourite food blogger. We'll be roaming the halls of Pike Place Market, which pops up, wildly altered,  in my dreams from time to time. Basically the whole 3 days in Seattle will be about eating and long walks, which are me and Mom's two absolute favourite things in the world. (Here's hoping that the long walks cancel out some of the eating!) Oh, and we may try to find a museum or a play or a concert to take in as well, if we can fit it into our busy schedule of walking and eating.

It's almost 5 o'clock. Almost time to leave my little piece of paradise downtown for the wilds of East Van and some Turkish Gypsy pop. Happy Easter.

Gig Madness!

It's come and almost gone, the weekend I was dreading. Three gigs, all of them challenging in their own way, and all of them were fantastic. Not, always, technically the best playing or the purest singing. But at every one of them I found things to delight in, whether it was the joy of trying something new (playing accordion in a leather mask, anyone?), reviving an old band with a bunch of friends  (Flying Folk Army!) or winning over a crowd of jazz fans on a sunny deck (Pender Harbour Jazz Fest)... it was busy, and exciting, and exhausting too (I got about 2 hours' sleep last Friday night).
So once again I feared something because it seemed too challenging, too scary, too much work... and it became pure fun, from beginning to end. You'd think I'd learn by now, right? Nope.
I have another hectic bunch of weeks coming up: a project that I should have done more work on over the summer is finally here, and I need to buckle down hard to get it done. Plus, there's school, which is a whole 'nother thing. I want to keep my head above water. I really want to not fail any of my courses. And then there's my social life- I'd like to still have a few friends in four years when this academic craziness is all over.
Do you know what I do? Some people cook to relieve stress, some people make things or take long baths... I eat, certainly (and damn you, Capilano U, why do you have to have a Tim Horton's lurking so that I want to buy donuts all day long?), but mostly I come home and grab the electronic bug zapper. You know, it looks like a tennis racket, but when you press a red button it becomes electrified and kills bugs on contact.
What can I say? The summer heat is still upon us, fruit flies are breeding like mad in our kitchen, and the zap! spark! crack! of the Bug Racket fills me with inner peace after a long day.

*I may not be around too much in the next few months as school is really kicking my ass. However, I will try and check in once a month at least, and as a personal challenge, I am going to try and add a photo every time, to make this blog more interesting on the eyes. Wish me luck...

So you know how some days you really feel as though you could scale mountains? Hell, some weeks are even like that, if you're lucky. Last week was one of those: I went running, did an epic 12-km hike with my bro and sis-in-law, saw tons of great friends, played and wrote some great music, including my first-ever solo set playing songs that I wrote (!!!)... it was a pretty fantastic week, all told.

Today is Monday. Today, getting out of bed and getting dressed was a pretty big deal.
My phone didn't ring.
I haven't been outside all day and now it's not even 4:30 and it's getting dark.
I meant to get at least 4 hours' worth of practice or writing in and instead I wasted time looking at Facebook and obsessively re-checking my email.
It's one of those days where I feel to my bones that no one will ever love me again, and I might as well bury myself in a pile of chip bags and Kleenex and balloon up to 200 pounds and get 20 cats and knit them all little sweaters.
The weather is gross.

I blame the weather, quite frankly. Last week was mostly sunny and cold. Today it's damp and overcast and my body just doesn't do well with no sun which is a bit of a problem, given that I LIVE IN A RAINFOREST ENVIRONMENT, FERGODSSAKE!

On the plus side, I have been eating really, really good food for the last few days. Some of it I even cooked at home. I'm on a middle eastern kick right now; lots of hommous and tzatziki and cauliflour and beets and lamb.

On the plus side, I did the East Side Culture Crawl this weekend, which is just so fantastic. All these wonderful artists and sculptors and musicians open up their studios and you can walk right in and look at their work (and admire their funky homes). It was sunny and cold all day Saturday and yesterday, and my friend Ari & I took in quite a bit of Art, in between grazing on all the snacks that obliging artists had put out, and gorging on charcuterie and cheese at Au Petit Chavignol. We joked that our crawl had more to do with eating than art, and it was true.

Most of the paintings, jewelry and other stuff, was out of my price range. I did, however, buy this:


In case you can't tell what it is, I will tell you: it's a pretty silver pendant, in the shape of a pumpkin seed. How perfect for moi.

I'm going to admit that this day has defeated me, and curl up with some chocolate and a movie.

i have been sitting so long, my ass is numb

trying to write things but the words don't come

waiting for inspiration but my skies are grey

feeling like i wasted this free day

there are a million things i should get done

but do i want to do any of them? not one

emails are trivial, phone doesn't ring

no willpower to practice or sing

i could complain or simply shrug and say

"this day's a write-off, tomorrow's a new day"

Stop the presses! Professional Musician Actually Caught in the Act of

Practicing Her Instruments!

Stunned partner, friends say they've "never seen anything like it!"

It's sad but true. I don't often just sit around and work at becoming a better accordion player and singer. Which, I know. "Ambivalent" and "Lazy" probably don't cover the half of it. Being one of those lucky folks who can coast through most things in life without putting in a lot of grind is a mixed blessing I guess: saves you a lot of effort but gives you lousy work habits.

But here's the thing- having to work at a crappy retail job 3 days a week sure gives you (and by you, I mean me) a better appreciation for the work you really love. And a burning desire to do more of that and less standing around making sure grubby little children don't get too violent with puppets that don't belong to them.

So on my days off I'm pleased to report that I've been putting in some long-overdue work on my 2 favorite instruments and actually hearing the results. Which is good, because I have some gigs coming up.

Being productive is also helping me to avoid the 800-pound elephant in the room. You know, the one with dollar signs in its eyes and a sign around its neck that says You Owe Me. Because really, who don't I owe at this point? Visa, Cel Phone, Utilities, Taxman, Medical... they're all lining up to take a piece. And I really, really have nothing left to give them. This time of year is always brutal. And I'm lousy with money. So roll on, May. Because although it means I'll be heading far, far away from my home and loved ones, at least there's a steady job waiting for me. (Thankfully, compared to most people with credit cards and mortgages and kids, my debt load is tiny. And I know I can get out with some steady work. It's just that my work is so seldom steady.)

Being at home has also given me ample time to read my favorite blogs and news sites, and so I offer the following observations:

• Why, why, WHY is "DH" the preferred acronym for one's husband in the blogging world? As in "dear husband"? Can we get any more 1950's? Blech.
• I hereby swear to never, ever use the following texting acronyms: LOL, IMHO, ROFLMAO. They annoy me. However, I do admit to using BTW and my favorite: WTF.
• If I have kids, they will never have a "playdate".

Okay, time to do some chores. Otherwise, my DCLS (darling common-law spouse) will come home and shout "WTF?!"

Later, 'gators.

Meme of the Day

I've been a huge fan of SweetSalty Kate's for a couple of years now. In fact, it's fair to say that it was her blog that made me want to start writing again, and that led to the birth of East Van Chronicles. I started reading her blog when she was going through the most heartbreaking time imaginable, so to read about her triumphs and successes these days is truly wonderful.

Anyway, enough gushing. I've been kinda stuck lately on what to write about here, so I'm doing the following meme, courtesy of Kate's other blog. If you like it, paste it into your own blogs and do it too...

The Dread Crew Meme

1) You are facing an epic journey. You may choose one companion, one tool and one vehicle from any book or film to accompany you. Or just one of the three. It's up to you. What do you choose? Companion: Allan Breck Stuart from R.L. Stevenson's "Kidnapped" (he's brave, resourceful, and sexy to boot.)
Vehicle: The Giant Peach from "James & the Giant Peach" (Roald Dahl)
Tool: One Ring to Rule Them All, of course!

2) You can escape to the insides of any book. Where do you go, and why? Into any of Charles de Lint's Newford stories. I've wanted to love in his world (and specifically in his fictional city of Newford) ever since I first read "Memory & Dream". Folk musicians, good friends, artists, dreams, danger and lashings of magic. What's not to love?

3) You can bring one literary character into your current life. Who do you choose, and why? Rupert Campbell-Black, from Jilly Cooper's "Riders", "Rivals", etc series. He'd be impossible, but never, ever boring. Or Lord Peter Wimsey. Hmmm.

4) The War For the Oaks (Emma Bull) is my go-to book. I could read that book fifty-seven times in a row without a break for food or a pee and not be remotely bored. In fact I’ve already done that but it wasn’t fifty-seven times. It was sixty-four. In fact, the only book I have ever literally finished reading and begun to read again. Immediately.

5) Of all the literary or film characters that made an impression on you as a kid, who was the most enviable? George, of The Famous Five. She got to dress like a boy, had a dog, and solved mysteries with her 3 cousins all the time.

6) Of all the literary or film characters that made an impression on you as a kid, who was the most frightening? Pennywise the clown in Stephen King's "It". Slag him at your peril; that guy can write some truly terrifying stuff.

7) Every time I read The Bible, I see something in it that I haven’t seen before. Actually, I'm just kidding. I've still not read most of the Bible. But I have read "A Room With A View" about 1498 times, so I guess I'm still finding new stuff there.

8) It is imperative that The Eight be made into a movie. Now. I am already picketing Hollywood for this—but if they cast Angelina Jolie or Amy Adams as Catherine Velis, I will not be happy. I will, however, be appeased if they cast some plucky, talented lady I've never heard of.

9) The Power of One is a book that should never be made (or should have never been made) into a film.

10) After all these years, the scene in the book/movie "Jacob's Ladder" where Tim Robbins' face goes all blurry in the mirror still manages to give me the queebs.

11) After all these years, pretty much any scene in the book "Frenchman's Creek" by Daphne DuMaurier still manages to give me a thrill. Oh, and when Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy tells Elizabeth Bennett how much he "ardently admires and loves" her. Sigh.

12) If I could corner the author Robert James Waller, here’s what I’d say to them one minute or less about their book, The Bridges of Madison County: "Your book stunk. It had no redeeming features. As a bookseller, I was embarrassed to sell it; in fact I actively tried to prevent customers from buying it. It came out over 15 years ago but I still grit my teeth with rage when I think of how crappy your writing is." Actually, I'm way too polite to say that. But oh, how I wish I could.

13) The coolest non-fiction book I’ve ever read is The Size of the World. Every time I flip through it, it makes me want to pack it up, pack it in, and start traveling 'round the globe.

Re-Vamp

In an effort to avoid some composing work, I've tweaked my blog header a bit, thus wasting a good hour and a half! Inspired by the wonderful ladies at Shutter Sisters, who pointed me in the direction of a really fun Polaroid app, I've put up some of my favorite pictures of my 'hood, taken by moi over the past couple of years. Not only did I mess with the wonderful Rollip to create the faux-Polaroid look, I also had to download Picasa to create the collage effect. Do you like it?
*clears throat and waits anxiously for non-existent feedback*

Just think of all the useful things I'm learning while I'm avoiding doing the real work I should be doing! At this rate, I'll be a graphic designer before long...

Forget April. April is only the cruelest month if you do your taxes. Which, not so much around these parts. (Please not to read, Revenue Canada.) February: that is the cruel one.
I don't know why, but I'm always scrambling in February. Always broke, and overworked both. (Except for last year, when I had no money and no job. Fun times.)
Exacerbated by the fact that there are so many days to "celebrate" in our little family of two. Valentine's Day, of course. Jon's Birthday. Jon's mom's birthday. Our anniversary. When you're broke and stressed, ya don't feel much like partying. Oh, and J has a "lower respiratory infection" this year too. Which mean he could fill a sink with all the phlegm he's carrying around. If he wanted to. If I let him fill sinks with phlegm.

In spite of the fact that work is piling up (which means that the dishes are too) and there is illness around, I feel pretty positive this month, and here's why:
I am trying to adopt a new policy of embracing the busy times instead of letting them get to me. After all, I did in fact ask for this work. Actively looked for it, in some cases. And will enjoy almost all of it. So why get upset when things get a bit hectic? The only real downside of being so busy means that every individual thing gets a bit less of my attention; well, I can live with that. No one's called me out yet for shoddy work, so I guess I can learn to be easier on myself.
We are also going out more right now: I saw two plays and a gig this week and it made me appreciate the arts scene we have here and my own small place in it.
And finally, we're going to celebrate the milestones in our lives in a fun, low-budget way. Some friends over for J's birthday. Dinner somewhere for the anniversary. A meal we can chuck in the oven for J's mom's birthday. (I love ovens! Why did it take me so long to realize they weren't just for nachos?)
The weather smiles on us and sends sun instead of dreary rain. I have work, and the promise of money soon to come. A loving man who sleeps, still, and hopes to shake his winter sickness soon.
Next time, I'll straddle the line between good taste and caution-to-the-wind: my next post will be about... sex and romance!

Seems I'm not alone in being alone...

Excerpt from week 12, the final week of my online film course:

The following is an interesting paradox:

We dream of such things happening to us—of rising to the occasion, scoring our first film, and doing a splendid job. Then, when some opportunity actually comes along, self-doubt finds a way to slowly creep in and erode some of the confidence we have in ourselves.

I refer to this as SCAD, short for Situational Creative Anxiety Disorder. This is very typical and happens even to established film composers. We must find a way to downplay these doubts and press onward.

So very true!

Meaty Goodness

A short day at the Patch today, thank goodness. As I put on my Facebook page: "Alison is having a fight with the lamb she ate for dinner yesterday. The lamb is winning." Blech. 'Nuff said.

I love, love, love being noticeably smaller than I was 2 weeks ago. And I will do my utmost (within reasonable limits) to stay that way. But I'm realizing that my utmost does not include ingesting huge amounts of red meat every day. For one thing, it's hard (and expensive) to buy meat that's safer to eat: non-medicated, free range, etc. Why lose all this weight just to fill my body with toxins, hormones, additives? For another: well, before this low-carb thing started I was toying with the idea of being mostly vegetarian. It just feels like the right thing to do, for my body, for the animals, for the planet. With a carnivore companion in my life, I don't think I can be totally veggie. Also, when it comes right down to it, I like meat. Love it, sometimes. But I walked into Chapters this afternoon and one of the first things I saw was the cover of Michael Pollan's new book In Defense of Food. And this is the slogan on the cover: Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants. It was as if it spoke right to me. Of course, life will be easier if mostly plants includes eggs. And cheese. And yoghurt. And maybe some really good chocolate, once in a while. As I've said before, baby steps, people.

I also love drinking 2 litres of water every day. Don't know how I went without doing so for so long. My skin is clear, my eyes are bright... 'course I pee every 5 minutes, but at least that allows me to get off the tractor-drawn wagon at the Patch for a mini-break every once in a while. Yesterday was insane. Working from 10am until 5, no breaks. Seriously. No breaks. Gulping food between wagon-loads of people. For those of my 2.7 readers who don't know what I do there, I sit on a wagon and sings to loads of customers as we ride out from the main gates to the Pumpkin Patch. And then again as they head back, clutching their pumpkins. It's a fine life, for 3 weeks. Any more and you'd go nuts. Being outside all day is actually wonderful, even in the rain, although we all moan and complain when it's wet. The pay is fantastic. The people are awesome. It's the same bunch of starving musicians every year; it's like a time warp. And the same tractor drivers, the same farm and produce store employees too. I'll say one thing about Harry Hogler (isn't that the best name ever for a farmer?): he certainly seems to inspire loyalty. I'll probably still be working there in October 2058, wrinkled and slower, but still singing "Oh Susanna" with all the energy I possess. They don't do breaks there, as I mentioned, but the pay is good enough to almost compensate for that. Oh, and I have a bit of a crush on one of the guys who works there, so that brightens my days there quite a bit.

You know what I would love, though? I'd love to be able to get my hands on a recent list of people who thought I was sexy, or crush-worthy, or whatever. Wouldn't we all? I would love to read that list and go Ohhh. So that's what he thought of me. Hee hee. But I will have to settle for being chatted up on the bus by the wild-eyed man wearing a big silver skull ring. I know he liked me.

My body's in shock today.
It just came back from a weekend at my Dad's, a place where bodies routinely say Is it after 5 o'clock? Then I believe I'll have a glass or 4 of this delicious local wine. And another helping of this wonderful home-cooked meal. And then I'll just flop right here on the enormous couch and watch my annoyingly skinny brother eat a pillowcase-sized bag of caramel corn. What a great idea! Let's have another bowl of cheesecake brownie ice cream!
My Dad's place is not always Gluttony Central, but he does like to relax and indulge when the kids come to stay. And we fall right into line with that, oh yeah. But the pounds piled on, and J & I came back and said well, now's the time. Let's start that low-carb thing we've been talking about for ages. And so we did. And my body is howling for bread and sweet things, waking up tired and sluggish. I wait for the breakthrough day that's supposed to happen, where I will wake up feeling energized and no longer craving something, anything made with flour. J grins and says "I think I can get behind this Atkins thing," and happily devours another bacon slice. (Don't worry, we're eating tons of veggies. But J does love him some bacon.) Meanwhile, if I don't feel better in a day or two I'm gonna make a huge bread-man in the shape of the late Dr. Atkins and devour it all.
After the kids-together vibe of the weekend, where 4 people in their thirties bedded down happily in my dad's basement with the only responsibility being who was going to walk the dogs, I am also feeling very no I don't wanna about buckling down to my various jobs that are coming up fast. I know, it's whiny self-indulgence. I know I'll do it, and hopefully do a good job. But there's always a few days of fear before I get to it.

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My mom left today for the east; starting the tour van at 6 this morning for the long drive to Standard, Alberta. They'll rest there tonight, then keep heading towards Sault Saint Marie for the end of the week. Touring children's theatre is hard work; I should know. She popped in to say goodbye last night, exhaustion already lining her face from weeks of rehearsals. She'll be 63 next month, probably celebrating her birthday by performing 2 shows in some tiny Ontario town. I wish I could give her a bulging savings account and tell her she never has to work again but instead I watched her leave in awe and sadness. She is my mom, my best friend. And I wish she didn't have to work so hard to keep the wolf from the door.

Of books, Mad Men, and vertigo

I'm working on a list of 100 Facts About Me to post here, but sheesh- it's hard going! Might take awhile. (And then only 4.6 people will ever read it. And of those, maybe 0.7 will care. But it's fun to do anyway.) So in the meantime...

A health update, just 'cause. I felt so awesome yesterday; I was on fire. Went for a killer run; felt energized and invincible. Biked to a Zeellia rehearsal and home; loved it. Drank tons of green tea and water to stay hydrated. As I was heading to bed, noticed that I felt slightly woozy and dizzy, as if I'd had a few too many (I haven't had a drop of alcohol for over a week). Thought: Oh well, I've overdone it a bit. I'll just sleep that off... Woke up this morning with a case of vertigo! That's worn off, thank god, but I'm still feeling kinda crappy. What gives, health gods? Don't make me feel so good one day and then yank me down to earth again the next! 

Watched Mad Men last night with J. We're both loving it- it's a shocking reminder to me of the mind-boggling chauvanism the original Feminists had to fight against; gives me a whole new respect for them. Wouldn't want to live back then, but it's fun to watch. 

Read a funny post from Beck yesterday. I wish I could link you to it, but I've momentarily forgotten the name of her blog. Anyway, it was a post about how she'd written a scathing review of Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love, but had taken it down because she was afraid it was too mean-spirited.  I read some of the comments, where people hotly agreed or disagreed with her original post, which I wish I could've read. I have to say, I luuuurved that book, and have read it many times. But I can totally see where the naysayers are coming from: that it can be seen as flaky and self-indulgent and part of the whole navel-gazing, self-centred spirituality that we Westerners are perfecting lately. This review makes some good points, and I really enjoyed Googling other opinions on this hugely popular book. 

I guess where I come from is that I like reading about how a woman my age makes her peace with the fact that she doesn't need children to complete her life, (because- duh- goin' thru the same thing here, folks) and Gilbert was lucky enough to take her child-and-husband-less self off to 3 very interesting places for a year, and concentrate on sensual and spiritual pleasure which sounds delightful. I mean, who wouldn't like a year to focus solely on doing what you feel is right for your mental and spiritual health? And get paid a fat advance for the privilege? And of course you're going to piss off others, who say Well, your flaky-schmaky quest for god is BS, lady and I'd like a year to go stick my head up my ass but there are bills to pay and butts to wipe and how dare you rub your lucky fate in my face and have the cajones to whine about your love life?

Which, ok. But we don't all have to make the same choices. I can see why some folks think that it's part of this whole OprahmagazineEckhartTolleBuddhistLite self-indulgence masquerading as self-help. But I think you can also enjoy this book as a fun piece of travel writing and the story of how one woman had a transformative year. 

Anyway, rant over. 

I get up around 10 these days, adapting my schedule to J's late-night one. Get stuff done during the day, work on the computer nights, watch movies 'til 2am once J has returned from doing his show... it's actually a pleasant schedule, and one I'll miss once we swing into rehearsals this coming week and I have to get up around 8:30.

We rented "The Walker" last night; an odd little film, and one that's unusual enough that I have to remark on it here. (BTW, if you actually enjoyed "The Bucket List", talk to the hand. That "film" wasted two hours of my life- not to mention wasting 2 great actors- and I'm pissed.) Anyway, about halfway through "The Walker" I said to J "Did you notice that the protagonist is a gay man? Who has a lover? This is unusual..." And indeed it was. How many mainstream movies can you think of (other than those films about Capote and I don't know if they count 'cause they're bio-pics) where the leading man is a homosexual in a relationship? And both of them help solve the mystery of the murder that drives the plot of the movie? And the lead character's gay-ness, although certainly a defining part of his character, is not the subject 'round which the whole plot revolves, but just a part of his life? Like I said, an odd little film; slow to get going but well-written and quietly subversive.

In a spectacularly complex Work Avoidance Technique, J & I visited the pet store a few days ago and got a new, smaller fish tank, complete with new "tenants" to inhabit it. It looks great, will be easier to maintain than his old 30-gallon monster... and will probably start fading into the background of our busy lives again quite soon, until we have to remind ourselves that yes, we have an aquarium, and its occupants need caring for. We've actually been researching ferret ownership, ever since I spotted one at Mister Pet's and fell for its winning ways. Apparently they sleep lots, and are curious, smart and playful when awake. However... it's never a good idea to impulsively rush into buying a pet, so if we do get one, it won't be for ages yet.

The weather has cooled off and clouds cover the sun, which makes our apartment livable these days. I'm almost looking forward to Autumn, to putting aside time and money for piano lessons, improving my playing skillz, woodshedding. It'll feel like a new beginning or something.