Baking Stuff, Burning Stuff, Stretching Stuff, Complaining About Stuff

 I am having a weird sensation (weird but not unaccustomed) where thinking about sitting down to write a blog post feels like going for a colonoscopy or writing a math exam. This makes no sense - writing a blog post is neither mandatory nor unpleasant. Just going to free-associate here to get something down so I can stop feeling like I'm in front of a firing squad. 

I got these new notecards and I am currently obsessed with them. Making a list of people I can send them to. 

On Saturday I threw a party for Matt and our friend Margot, who were born two days apart. I made them each their favourite cake and then realized I'd inadvertently made it look like I was having a party for my 6-year-old twins.

And yes, we did light candles and sing happy birthday to them - as a group we really commit to a bit when a bit is there to be committed to.

I got my hair cut and coloured last week. I really like my stylist - she is funny and kind and loves Eve (whose hair she also cuts) and works with me on my wonky hair. The past few times, though, I feel like she either forgets what we usually do or doesn't really listen to me. I know it's hair and it grows back, but it's expensive enough and my hair is troublesome enough that I get cranky when I don't get to have my magic hair for a few weeks after it's done. I was not feeling great and complaining to Eve on Facetime a couple of nights ago (while totally aware this is a totally first-world problem) - particularly that one streak of my bangs was blonde instead of brown which was making it not lie well with the rest of my bangs. I knew I would probably feel better the next day (more on this later), it was just really vexing me. I'm more just saying this because weirdly, I quite like the pictures of me from the party.

This is a dress I bought at a fun store downtown while Zarah was visiting last summer. If I'd thought I would like the picture I probably would have moved the Roots bag.

I had to crop this more severely than I usually would because I accidentally made it look like I was wearing a tiny Elmira College baseball hat (and like Angus is about to fire a ball over my shoulder).

Margot took this one, so it has less weird stuff needing to be cropped out. 

In a few weeks when I look back at these pictures and don't like them anymore they probably will have disappeared from this post, so no harm done? 

The "gentleman in his little vest, sipping" that Swistle mentioned from this post is our friend Tony, and Lucy finds him similarly enchanting.

Had my first big air fryer fail. I tried to make roasted Brussels sprouts. The recipe said to use the Air Roast function, which I hadn't used before, and may not again. When I do them in the oven, the Brussels sprouts get crispy outside and soft inside and the little leaves that fall off get super crunchy. In the air fryer, the bigger pieces of sprouts were uncooked after being roasted the recommended time, and the outer leaves were black. I ate one experimentally and Matt tried not to laugh when I yelped "it's charcoal" while spitting it into the sink as quickly as humanly possible. Big fan of every other vegetable I've cooked in it. 

So about the night I wasn't feeling well. Earlier in the day I had tried to go for a walk and it was sunny but so bitterly cold and windy I felt like the sun should be dinged for false advertising. My eyes were watering so much I couldn't see where I was walking, and my lower back immediately started to ache. I flounced home after a short walk and decided to do yoga instead. I went to YouTube and looked for something healing or comforting because I was sore and frazzled. I ended up doing a 'yoga for lymphatic flow'. It felt really good at the time, and the backs of my thighs were pleasantly achy afterwards. When I went to bed and tried to read, though, I felt wretched. My shoulders, neck, back, hands and ankles all hurt. Just the blankets resting on my feet was incredibly painful. I was coughing more than I had in months, and everything just generally sucked. I had no idea what was going on, and finally just turned off the light and tried to sleep, while feeling moderately sorry for myself. 

The next day I found some woo on the internet about lymphatic massage making you feel momentarily ill because of the lymphatic system moves toxins through the body so they don't stay and make you sick. For the life of me I cannot decide if this is good sense or wacky woo, but the next day I felt much better. Maybe the recent intense physiotherapy and yoga are just overtaxing my immune system and hey look, it's March Break, maybe I'll just calm down and read and rest for a few days. Also, my bangs are fine and I am aware that it was probably the flushing toxins talking. 

There, that wasn't so hard. You're not that scary.