Well Played, Brain Fog

 I'm off today, so I woke up naturally after a really good sleep. I got up and washed my face and put the pieces of my CPAP other than the hose in the sink with soap and let them soak. On the way past the armoire I took two Aerius because my allergies were so bad a couple of weeks ago I literally had snot running down my face if I didn't constantly mop it (sorry). My sister the pharmacist said to try a different allergy med - I usually take prescription cetirizine, which is Reactine. It worked really well so I have the Aerius sitting on the top of the armoire. But I didn't put the pills in my pill counter. Can you see where this is going? You probably do, if you have an ounce of sense, which I am apparently lacking.

So the CPAP parts are in the sink and I go back to take the meds in my pill counter. Just as the small handful of pills is sliding down my throat I remember that I also have not removed the Cetirizine from the pill counter. And that is already a double dose (ever since we moved to Ottawa and I had the kids I have year-round allergies. Blame the city, or the children?). 

Then I have another frightening thought and check the pill counter to find that I have just taken Wednesday's pills, because apparently I took Tuesday's minutes before although I have zero memory of doing it. 

So now I've taken a triple - sextuple? - dose of allergy meds, and I was already experiencing confusion, which is one of the symptoms of antihistamine overdose. I will be fine. I consulted my pharmacist sister again and she said people do this all the time, this shit is confusing. She said my eyes and mouth might be very dry which they SUPER ALREADY ARE so I'm going to maybe chill on the couch with water and eye drops within reach. 

I told Jody I would call someone else if I needed help with this since she's already more than fulfilled her Friend Good Deeds Quota for the week. She still gave me some helpful tips:

So apparently in order for a pill organizer to work you actually have to LOOK AT THE DAY. Ugh, so many rules. 

Hope you all have a good day without any dizziness, rapid heart beat or agitation. 

In Which I Screw with Mother Nature and Have Some Regrets

 Going to swipe Martha's Simple Woman's Daybook post idea today (although I have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone and 'simple woman' is making me giggle, which kind of makes it a self-fulfilling name, doesn't it?) This will fulfill my need to rhapsodize about my amazing weekend and also breathlessly detail my harrowing journey home.

Outside my window: An exceptionally ill-mannered display.

My weekend: FABULOUS. I drove to Hamilton Thursday and took Eve out for dinner. (She didn't want to be photographed because she's been in the lab all day and felt gross, which is silly because she looked adorable). I dropped off leftover Halloween candy and her favourite bagels. I always go to Barrie to visit my friend Zarah (HI ZARAH) in the fall, and now that Eve is in Hamilton I stop there the first night for an extra visit between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I drove to Barrie Friday morning and we commenced our usual activities - eating stuff, buying stuff, meeting her friends for coffee, wandering around downtown, talking about everything under the sun, getting a little bit high and doing a puzzle, admiring the cat.

This afternoon: Recovering from the absolute madness that was the drive home.

The summer after second year university, my boyfriend and I went to Lake Placid to do some camping and hiking. We stayed in a Bed and Breakfast out in the middle of nowhere one night, and went out for a walk. We hadn't realized how close to dark it was, and I don't think we even had flashlights (and phones weren't a thing). We were wandering around this dark road late at night, and we started to hear animals crashing around in the bush and I thought, What are we, actual morons? You know those horror movies where the locals in a little town sacrifice a couple of out-of-towners every decade or so? If that had been us, we would have deserved it.

I wasn't as blithely ignorant yesterday. I knew there was going to be weather. I thought if I just took it slow it would be okay. Not fun, but okay. And it nearly was. It was snowing, then hard, pouring rain, and there were cars and transports in the ditches. I felt like I was doing the right things, but presumably everyone in the ditch thought the same thing. 

Why didn't I stop and get a hotel? Do people actually do that? It sounds eminently sensible and yet the thought of stopping somewhere and having to wait it out seemed unbearable. 

I was seven hours into what should have been a five-hour drive (at one point my GPS said the time left in my drive was two hours FOR two hours) when I came off the 401 onto the 416. It was dark, there were tall trees on either side, and now an unbroken wall of snow was coming at me. I suddenly realized that I had, in fact,  not been clearly envisioning what 'really bad' could actually be. It felt impossible to keep going, and unsafe to stop. If I slid into the ditch I felt like I might be buried before anyone found me. I was doing major yoga breathing and crawling along at 40 kilometres an hour. I almost called Matt, but I thought he was in the air between Dubai and Singapore and even if he was reachable it just seemed mean. I skipped around the friends list in my head and settled on Jody (HI JODY). I think I subconsciously knew that she grew up around here and knew these roads well, but mostly where flipping one's shit is concerned, she just doesn't. She was a calm voice in a blizzard of panic and regret and, well, blizzard. She established where I was, how fast I was going and how soon I could safely get off somewhere and regroup, and talked me through every minute of the next however minutes (seemed like hours, was probably less than thirty minutes) until I could get off in Kemptville and find a Tim Horton's (HI JODY THANKS FOR RESCUING ME). 

I had several texts and phone calls from Matt and the kids and my mom. Angus had been acting as worrier in chief while Matt was in the air. I got a peach lemonade and checked the weather to see how long I might have to wait, and then looked outside and realized the snow was nearly stopped - I might have hit the exact worst window of the entire day. I got back on the road and had to call Jody two more times to make sure I was going the right way because my brain had stopped working (HI JODY THANKS FOR NOT CALLING ME AN IDIOT). Somewhat humorously, driving while the roads were shit but the snow was light now seemed the height of smooth sailing. 

Lesson learned, for now at least. I should have stayed in Barrie. I am not an emergency room physician, I am a school librarian, and missing a morning of work would have been a negligible thing. It was a stupid risk and I should not have taken it. 

I am wearing: bike shorts and a tank top because I'm about to go do yoga and try to unlock my knee, and thermal socks because the floor is cold - don't try to imagine it, it's too sexy for anyone to bear. 

I am listening to: Apple music classic station, because I am being all zen and shit.

I am thinking: How happy I am that among the 120 traffic accidents yesterday no one seems to have died or been seriously injured. And also how egregious this headline is (I feel like Nance will be with me)

I am feeling: Fervently grateful and suitably chastened on a personal level. On a bigger-picture scale, I am overjoyed to hear that, as my friend Liz (HI LIZ) put it, "SCOTUS rejected the snake-handlers' petition to revisit Obergefell". It's only a battle, not remotely the war, but still, it's good to see. 

I am reading: Blogs, catching up from missing posts on the weekend when I only had my phone. And this book which needs to be returned to the library posthaste. Giving it 50 pages to decide if I continue or fire it and move on to all the other library books that also need to be returned.

I am cooking: Nothing, because I left on Thursday and Matt left on Saturday and we were already low on groceries. I pulled a loaf of oatmeal bread out of the freezer and I have eggs and a couple of wrinkly apples, I'll be okay.

I am watching: I just finished Professor T, which was very enjoyable. I'm not sure what I'm watching next.

I am going: Maybe to get groceries, maybe not. I'm off until Wednesday but will probably go out for bar night tomorrow. 

This week: In a spectacular example of locking the barn door after the horse has been stolen and buried in a snowbank, I have made my winter-tires appointment. Two more work days, some work around the house, four more blog posts and a play Friday night - it's in my calendar and I know who I'm going with, but not what or where it is. Presumably someone will let me know. And I should cook something at some point - probably something Suzanne has posted about, riding her kitchen coattails has been serving me well lately. 

Well THAT was Terrifying

 I had a great weekend but I made an unwise decision about driving in bad conditions today and - nine and a half hours later after what should have been a five hour drive, tops - am feeling both grateful and suitably chastened. Will blog more after I get over my adrenaline-dump nausea and get some sleep. On the brighter side, a picture of Zarah looking extremely Canadian getting me ready to leave this morning.

Home looked like this. My sisters in Christ, I ask you, what the whole entire frigid fuck? 

Boobies!



I'll Remember This on Mother's Day

 The Halloween Party host just sent out some pictures and I was looking at them again. This reminded me of the time years ago when my parents were living with us for a few months before they got their new house. We went to the Halloween party, came home and dropped the kids so my parents could put them to bed, and went back for a bit. When I got home my mom was in the kitchen about to go down to bed. She looked at me and said "so did you have to drink that penalty drink?" because I was wearing a colourful long skirt with a v-neck top. I said, a tiny bit indignantly, "no, I had wings on and I was a Gypsy moth." She was walking down the stairs and yelled back cheerfully, "oh, that's kind of lame!"

Random pictures I came across while looking for this one.

Indiana Jones and cheerleader

Snow White with bony friend

Snow White super feeling herself

Smunchkins

Facing the Music

 I tried to schedule a surly Thursday post and I wrote it and then reread it and it all seemed so ridiculously petty I couldn't bear to post it.

There's been something I've been thinking about off and on since I went to Cityfolk for Indigo Girls and Melissa Etheridge and then saw people talking about it on Reddit. Most people were rapturous, floating on nostalgia vibes, couldn't say a bad word. A few people complained that Emily Saliers' voice was not what it used to be. And it definitely wasn't - it sounds like she maybe has a tremor that affects her voice, which could mean some scary things for her health. One person said "sorry, the Indigo Girls set was weak" and another said if they'd known they wouldn't have gone to the concert.

So these are the random thoughts I've had about that.

What do musicians owe their audience? I've kicked it around, and I think what I've settled on is that they owe us the best set they are capable of performing on the day that we see them. There are multiple issues that could affect this - temporary sickness, permanent sickness, age, etc. If their sound deteriorates to the point that people don't want to pay to see them anymore, then that's fine.

If you're thinking of paying big money to see a musician/band that's important to you, do you do any research to see what their last few concerts have been like? It was not at all difficult to find discussions about Emily's voice in recent years. I didn't look up anything because frankly I didn't care. The Indigo Girls were the soundtrack of my youth, and I was in no matter what. I was also seeing them at a festival, so the tickets weren't crazy expensive. Eve bought much pricier tickets to see one of her favourite musicians (Ethel Cain) - took an uncharacteristic risk on a re-seller who didn't send the tickets out until two days before the concert - and you better believe she knew the ins and outs of every recent concert.

I saw the Indigo Girls in Toronto almost exactly thirty years ago when my friend Janet bought the tickets for my birthday. I am not the same person I was thirty years ago, and I did not expect that they would be either. I saw Melissa Etheridge about five years ago, so I was pretty confident she would still be flawless, and she was. 

I wasn't particularly bothered by the people who complained. I understand the disappointment. Nance's recent post made me think about it again - she's in the 'concerts are too peoply' camp. If one of your favourite acts is coming somewhere nearby do you jump on it, or consider all the factors? 

Wordless Wednesday

 More properly "not MY words", but that doesn't flow as well. And now I'm adding a bunch of words anyway. Damn, I suck at this. I present, Eve being salty about Daylight Saving Time six years apart.