Life Lessons Learned The Hard Way

Whfropera is so kind to have agreed to help me troubleshoot my radio.blog issues. Hallelujah! Thankyouthankyouthatyouthankyou…

In the meantime I am going to tell you about my Houseguest From Hell. This happened several years ago and I am sure I have blocked out a great deal of the truly heinous things that happened. I will tell you about what I can recall.

Several years ago I got a phone call from a friend’s ex boyfriend. He had been in New Zealand for a few months and was back in town. He was also homeless due to the fact that his roommate had installed interim roomies in his room and they had to be given sufficient notice before he could reclaim his place. So he asked if he could stay with me for 2 weeks. I said no problem, as I am nice like that. I also had no idea what was to come.

I should say right off that I live in the world smallest apartment. My total space is 385 square feet. The rent is cheap and the location prime. What can I say? Normally, it is just the cat and I. When you work 12+ hours a day you don’t need a lot of space to clean on your precious days off. I have a tiny bedroom, a slightly larger living room, a miniscule kitchen and a larger bathroom than you would expect in such a hovel. I have a sofa bed in the living room which, when unfolded, takes up the entire space. He was sleeping there. I was working on a film at the time so I set up these rules:

1. No TV hockey games while I was home. I needed my peace and quiet.
2. No friends or girlfriend when I was home (I know this sounds bitchy but I was away so much, including all nighters, that he had plenty of fun-time when I was gone)
3. Contribute to food.
4. Feed the cat.

No a lot of restrictions but you can guess what happened. There were plenty of times, after 16+ hour days when I would come home to a house full of rowdy drunk hockey fans and a crabby girlfriend. Add a frightened, starving cat and an empty fridge and I would be pissed. Really pissed.

But I thought that two weeks of hell would go by quickly and things would end. Then he told me that he needed to stay for an additional month. He had nowhere else to go. Let me just say that the Kranki that is writing this now would totally evict this hockey watchin’ ass to the streets. The Then Kranki felt bad and decided a stern talking to was all that was needed to rectify the situation. Um…. nope.

He had no money left either so I found him a little job so he could pay me some token rent and contribute to food a bit. He totally blew off the job and ate me out of house and home. I then started hearing from my neighbours that he and his almost-too-young-to-be-legal girlfriend were having door-slamming fights when I was not there. I heard one for myself that night. I gave them another stern talking to and got hostile looks. No apology. I bought my neighbours gourmet cupcakes as compensation.

I have to say I just don’t know what to do when you tell an adult to do something and you get blatant childish defiance in return. When you are doing them a fucking favour no less. Well, you throw their defiant asses to the streets, is what you do. I have really learned my lesson.

So for a whole six weeks I had a smelly guy, his pubescent girlfriend and misc. party dudes watching hockey at my tiny home. Did I mention that I don’t have any doors in my place? Well, except for the bathroom but that one didn’t even have a lock. The cat hid under my bed for the whole time. He said he would forget to feed the cat because he never saw one. I could have joined her under that bed. Everyday I would go to work and get a lunchtime crowd begging for a daily update of gory details of the angst that was my life. It got to be almost comical. I could write a screenplay.

The girlfriend eventually practically moved in as she got jealous and felt she had to be around to stop things from going on between her boyfriend and me. Believe me, NOTHING was ever going on between me and The Sponger. I told her so. It didn’t matter. I then had to literally walk over their bodies on the sofa bed to get to my kitchen in the early morning hours. I would tell him to get rid of her and he would agree and then she would be there the next day. Same with the friends. Same with the hockey. There were times I came home and his friends were over and he was out. Seriously. I could have wept. I think I did.

I have no idea where this guy is now. It turned out he was terribly mentally unstable and ended up doing some bad shit in the world and to himself. He fled back to New Zealand for a while but about a year ago I saw him waiting for a bus. I drove right on by.

Tehno - Wasted

I have spent the last 6 hours trying to troubleshoot this song playing thing on my blog and I am going insane. I had it actually up but no songs were playing. Then I had it running and perpetually searching for the playlist. Most of the time it is coming up URL not found. Yet it IS there. I know it is. Holy frustration. I will keep trying. But don’t hold your breath.

Wild roses.
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White flowers are my favourite.
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Spot the herons!
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Weekend Warrior

Happy Memorial Day everybody. It is a normal workday in Canada as we had Victoria Day last weekend. Something about the queen and all. Typical human ignorance on my part.

I went to Sunday Family Dinner night at my parent’s place. We get together almost every weekend for dinner, which I think is a great tradition. Honestly, I am pretty much suffering from scurvy by Sunday and a home cooked meal is exactly what I need to keep my gums from bleeding. I do not cook for my own self.

My mom and I went for a walk in Stanley Park, which is right at their back door. This is similar to New York’s Central Park where we have a little peninsula, surrounded by ocean on 3 sides, that is a park in the middle of urban Vancouver. The Seawall is a 7ish mile trek around the park and a must do if you ever visit. Don’t worry as many Starbucks are nearby for sustenance. The park is criss-crossed with roads and trails. The drive is nice but some sick-assed pervert gropes women in the trails on a regular basis. We are trying to catch the bastard. It was totally safe where my mom and I walked, as it is right by the tennis courts and therefore very populated on a sunny evening. One of the main attractions of this particular corner of the park is an area of trees that house DOZENS of heron nests. They think it is the largest grouping of nests in an urban area in the world. It is amazing that they nest so close to each other. The birds are so big and the nests so small too. It is a miracle that no babies have fallen out. They are all just getting their flying feathers and are really cute with their downy bodies and flappy wings. They make this sort of clacking noise as they beg for food from momma and poppa. It is the weirdest sound.

I also took some nice photos of the plant life in the park. I see so many great flower photos on various blogs. However, I have the black thumb of death so I don’t have any nice plants in the house. Actually, I think it is my apartment and not me that kills plants. Too hot and dry. Cacti grow great, though.

Slavery

I was sitting at my computer reading blogs when Yoshi wandered out from her condo to get her some Momma Lovin’. I hold onto her head and kiss her right between the eyes. She loves this. I then will gently pick out her eye gunk as I hate this on cats. She loves this too. I know I am lucky. She even sits there and lets me cut her nails. Blessed, I am. Anyway, as I was sitting here kissing my blissed out, purring kitty it struck me how amazing it is that she knows this is an act of love. I know the momma cats wash the kittens and she might be reverting to kittenhood fantasies about being cleaned. I just don’t know for sure. All I know is that I can squish this cat’s head and kiss it for ages and she trusts me implicitly. I could be preparing to eat her for all she knows. I feel so honoured to have her trust as she doesn’t give it out to just anybody. In fact only my parents and I can touch her. She will hiss and bite anybody else. Period. She has always been that way despite all my attempts to socialise her. Those Siamese. She is why I cannot get another cat or a dog. Partly it is because she would kill them. Mostly it is because I fear that adding to the family would change her love for me in some way. I couldn’t bear it. I am SO her bitch.

Miss Smelly Buminski

Just because you haven't seen her for a while.
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I Dare Not Speak Its Name

I have hesitated to post about this in the past as I have felt it is really Dooce’s area of expertise and I don’t want to step on any toes. It is kinda embarrassing as well. But this is my life and I said I wouldn’t hide behind niceties. I am talking about CONSTIPATION! Yes, I am one constipated girl. In fact I have decided my long time lack of poopage is maybe why I got cancer in the first place. All those toxins raging from my rear end to my boobs. Just a thought.

What I am experiencing now is a whole new level of blockage not yet felt by my body in my lifetime. The fabulously effective and expensive medication I use for chemo nausea has constipation as a side effect. The power of this cancels out the diahrrea side effect of the chemo. Completely. I would so love the runs right now, as what is coming out of my butt is more akin to rocks. When my caboose is actually producing, that is. I am presently scarfing prunes like I normally inhale chocolate as well as taking fibre laxatives twice a day and all the various other dietary eases I can think of. No joy. I was poopless for SEVEN WHOLE DAYS and then once I saw some action it felt like my poor ass was plundered by poop pirates. I have actually PRAYED over this. I am also afraid of cheese.

Ok. What next? This is adding insult AND injury to an already sucky situation. What can I do to ease my pain? I guess I could go through Dooce’s archives but I would rather start a whole new forum here. Any sure-fire pooping remedies? We are talking nuclear strength here!

Oh GOD!

Did anybody else see that El Divo crap on Oprah today? Simon missed the boat with this boy band. These guys suck ass with a ferocity not yet measured. Is it just me?

Complete IDIOT!

I have ordered a portable MP3 player due to a lovely financial gift from a family friend. I am perpetually poor so I am always slow with acquiring new technology. I am gonna load that sucker up and sail through chemo. I used to be so savvy about music but due to that aforementioned poverty I am also not buying CDs like I used to. I thought I'd be very clever and install an audio component to my blog (inspired by What's OPERA Doc?) to let you all know what I am listening to on any given day. But I can't make it work. I pasted the code but all I get is that funny square saying the URL is not found. It asks me to copy my music onto my server. Do I need separate server space or can this be done with Blogger alone. Anybody out there with any tips? What you see on my blog is what I got. Any help would be appreciated. MUCHLY!!! Also please let me know what you are listening to right now. I love learning about new bands. Educate me, PLEASE!

Major Turnaround

Today is a beautiful day. We have just had a bit of really cold and rainy weather and then all of a sudden it is 29 degrees* out. People are walking around in shorts and tank tops. It is amazing. My apartment gets very hot though as it has southern exposure. The poor cat is limp as a dishrag. The good part is that I have a beautiful window box or two to watch flourish in the sunshine. The hot spell is supposed to last over the weekend too so my brother and sister-in-law will have great hiking stories to tell at Sunday Family Dinner Night. More sweat drenched posts in my future. Chemo makes me very intolerant to the sun and heat so I will be hiding inside for the most part. But the sun makes me really happy.

*84.2 F for American Folk

Tagged

I was tagged by requiscat for a MEME post. I did it a few days ago so here it is again if you are interested.

Memory Thursday

I had my first totally nausea free day yesterday and it was wonderful. I ate tonnes of yummy food and felt great. Yippee! Today my mom is coming over and planting flowers in my window boxes. Then we are going for a little walk.

I was laying in bed this morning and a memory came back to me that I haven’t thought of in a while. I am going to write about it so maybe I won’t think about it again for a long time. I also know that by writing about this memory I may incur the displeasure of my parents as they factor into this memory quite a bit. You see it isn’t a pleasant memory and when I think of it I get very angry.

When I was growing up as a teenager I lived at home along with my younger brother. He lived in the basement while I had a room upstairs. There was a bathroom downstairs that we all used to shower in. I guess it wasn’t very respectful of my brother’s privacy to use his shower all the time but the bathroom upstairs was often in use and the shower wasn’t very good. So we would go downstairs and walk through my brother’s room and use the shower on a daily basis. It had one of those pocket doors that would slide into the wall when it was open. Sometimes after I would have a shower and emerge to find the pocket door, that didn’t have a lock, was open an inch or so. I would think that maybe I didn’t shut it properly or somehow with vibrations of people going up and down the stairs it would slide open on its own. Although there was no lock on the door we always knew when it was in use as the light switches were outside in the hall and the door would be closed. If nobody was in it the door would be open and the lights would be off. Easy. We knew what the score was and nobody got walked in on as far as I know. Years literally went by and one day I was in the shower. What was different was this time I was wearing my contact lenses. Normally I wouldn’t and therefore be totally blind. I looked up over the glass door of the shower and noticed the door was open a good foot. Suddenly all those years of finding the door cracked open became clear. Somebody was spying on me in the shower. I yelled and the voice I heard was of my brother’s good friend and he said, “Sorry! I thought I left my wallet in the bathroom.” I knew this was bullshit and freaked out. I was furious. That fucker had been spying on me showering for ages. I felt so stupid that it hadn’t occurred to me until that day. But often when I would shower I wouldn’t know that he was over, as he and my brother would be working on their cars in the yard. It just never occurred to me. I stormed upstairs and had a good cry. I felt really violated. When I told my brother he just looked devastated. I feel for him now, as I would have felt terrible if the roles had been reversed. That night I told my mom and dad about what had happened. I totally expected my dad to be furious and kick his ass. He wasn’t. He told me that I was being overly dramatic and boys would be boys. He said that my brother’s friend didn’t get to see very much as the glass of the shower was textured and that it was no big deal. I got even more furious and said what if he had spied on mom. Then my dad did get angry. Only about the potential that this had happened to my mom. But he never talked to this kid about what he had done and I had to face this guy in the house several times after that. He acted like nothing had happened and I felt like he thought that he had gotten away with it. I got no apology and no acknowledgement about what happened. I was really upset. I totally felt like nobody cared about what had happened and me. Nobody cared that my privacy had been violated in a major way. I knew that this wasn’t ok but nobody seemed too concerned. I have to say that since then I have explained to my parents how much this upset me and they have apologised and admitted that they didn’t handle it very well. But I still get angry about it. I still feel bad about it. Maybe I shouldn’t but I do. This guy’s name comes up in conversation at family dinners every once in a while and I just want to shout, “YEAH!! THE ASSHOLE WHO SPIED ON ME FOR YEARS WHEN I SHOWERED!” But I just sit there and feel uncomfortable instead. I don’t know why this still bothers me after over 15 years has gone by but it does.

Wrongness of EPIC Proportions!

I spoke too soon. I mentioned still having hair and the Gods took that as a sign. A sign to allow my hair to drop out of my head like a water spraying out of a fountain. It is everywhere. And I thought it was everywhere before. Well, I did not know what EVERYWHERE meant. I literally can see it falling before my eyes like little dancing dashes. And the dandruff! Hela icky. I even have dandruff on my arms. Ok, it is flaking skin. But I am not a flaky skin person. This means I have to suddenly, for the first time in my life, break out the lotion. Just when I eliminated a step out of my ritual with the lack of hair a whole new one gets added. Did I mention that chemo gives you ZITS. Pimples where you have never had pimples before. There is just no end to the tragedy. Zits, no hair and flakes. I am never going to attract a cute doctor.

Mini Update

Feeling much better today. I did the complete opposite as last chemo and took my mega anti nausea meds for too short of a time. So I went back on them and am feeling waaay better. I had a chocolate milkshake yesterday in honour of Sharkey who swore by them through her chemo. I am even on my way to being a juice mistress as I was talking to my neighbour and she had a juicer she never used. Hello! Pass that puppy on to me. I just need some fruit and veggies to put in the fricking thing. The sun is shining and I still have hair. I must have had a lot to begin with as it is still falling out like crazy. I have some bald patches where it rubs against the pillow. Kinda like a baby. I think I had a bit of weird growth of hair in the early stages of chemo as I am finding odd textured hair mixed in with the regular stuff. I know many people come out of chemo with completely different hair. I hope I don’t end up with a pube head. That would be very disappointing if not down right scary. Keep your fingers crossed.

Closet Shit Disturber

I met my dear friend Pablo when we were both working at a very trendy shoe store. This store was so trendy we actually got to meet a whole shwack of very famous people. Ironically because we worked at this shoe store we were considered local celebrities ourselves. We never had to wait in club line-ups. We often got free drinks and if we went out as a group after work we could hear people whispering round us, “There are the people who work at THAT store. Look at their shoes.” And we always had fucking fabulous shoes. We used to think it was so funny as we made shit money and had to handle people’s feet all day. The GLAMOUR!

I am a terrible sales person. If you are really not sure about the shoes you are trying on I am not going to force you. In fact I will encourage you to go out and have a coffee to think about it. My bosses heard me do that a couple times and I really caught it. I didn’t care. If you are not enraptured with the shoes you probably shouldn’t buy them. That is just my opinion. Shoes are often bought on a completely emotional level. It shouldn’t be forced.

I loathed my job a lot of the time. I especially hated it when some poor 12-year-old girl would shell out three years worth of babysitting money on a pair of shoes I knew would fall apart in a couple months.

One of the highlights of my day would be when the local strippers would come in to get boots. We carried a line of shoes called ‘SLUT’, which were very popular with strippers. They were good customers and very low maintenance. Sometimes they would do bits of their routines for us. The strippers used to pay for their SLUT boots in dollar bills. I could look in the cash drawer and know whether we had a stripper in that day.

Another highlight of my day was when we would get the cross dressers in trying on stuff. We are not talking drag queens or transvestites, as they would come in as ladies. We are talking about those kind of weird old men who come in wearing polyester pants and acrylic cardigans who kick off their scuffed oxfords and want to prance around in SLUT boots for as long as they can. They NEVER bought them. They would cram their size 11 feet in a woman’s size 9 and mince around the store. We were under strict orders to flat out tell them we didn’t have their size in ANYTHING and get them out of the store ASAP as Madonna or some 12-year-old with babysitting money might drop in and get frightened. I, on the other hand, would not only accommodate their requests but I would encourage them by bringing out other shoes for them to try on. Man, if that is all it takes for them to get their jollies for the day I am all for helping a poor guy out. I used to get into major trouble for that too. I didn’t care. I liked to think of myself as their Fairy Godmother.

It's All About ME!

I saw this on Susie's site so I thought I'd tag myself. To be honest I am still not feeling great and fear I have possibly lost my sense of humour forever. I hope to perk up soon and be able to blog like a blogger should. Until then here is a MEME list.

Three names I go by.
-St@cey
-St@ce
-Ass Mistress (but only to a certain someone)

Three screen names I have had.
-St@ceyloo
-Crankypants
-Von Krankipantzen

Three physical things you like about yourself.
-Height
-Eyes
-Hands

Three parts of your heritage.
-English
-Welsh
-Canadian

Three things that scare you.
-Spiders
-Swimming in the ocean
-Panic attacks

Three things you are wearing now.
-Charcoal coloured yoga pants
-Pink camouflage hoodie
-Leopard slippers

Three of your favourite bands or musical artists.
-Henry Rollins/ Rollins Band
-Blondie
-The Ramones
(that was really hard and I didn’t do a great job)

Three of your favourite songs.
-Red Guitar – David Sylvian
-My War - Black Flag/DOA
-Warm Leatherette – The Normal
(even harder and really out of date as I haven’t bought CDs lately)

Three things you want in a relationship.
-Love
-Fun
-Acceptance

Two truths and one lie (you have to guess which is which).
-I am a picky eater
-I backpacked around Europe
-I am a sore looser

Three physical things about the preferred sex that appeal to you.
-Strong forearms
-A little bit of stubble
-Can fix things-talented hands

Three of your favourite hobbies.
-Reading
-Design
-Blogging

Three things you want to do badly right now.
-Eat sushi
-Go shopping
-Throw a party

Three careers you are considering.
-Interior design
-Clothing design
-Retail storeowner

Three places you want to go on vacation.
-Africa
-Australia
-France
I could go on for hours…

Three kids names you like.
-Cole
-Beatrix
-Chloe

Three things you want to do before you die.
-Widely travel
-Start up a successful business
-Meet a great man

Three ways you are stereotypically a girl.
-Obsess about my weight
-Love shoes
-Drink tea

Three celebrity crushes.
-Henry Rollins
-Keanu Reeves (don’t talk and ruin it - just let me look at ya!)
-Jude Law (that Alfie flirtatious look he had)

Pulp Fiction

I can’t say I eat a lot of fast food but my diet sure could use a clean up. I am pretty sure I don’t poop as much as I should. If that was TMI, tough shit. For you and for me! I recently read a book outlining a diet to rid oneself of cancer. It entails lots of enemas, something I have avoided in my short life. That and vitamins that cost a lot of money. I cannot do this diet now as those vitamins would interfere with my chemo and make it not work. If I am going to feel pukey all the time that chemo had better be working! The other thing it favours is juicing EVERYTHING! I have never been a big juice fan but I think I can change if it means keeping the cancer away. My brother and his wife juice a lot and they are sickeningly healthy. So does another friend of mine and while he is not healthy he is better because of it. I have been researching juicers on the internet and they span a whole spectrum of cost and possible features. Let’s just say if I wanted to I could buy one for the same price as my car. Or I can get a decent one for about $100.

I am curious, any hardcore juicers out there in Blogville? Is there a brand of juicer you could recommend? Or do you have any great juice recipes. I have to say I am a bigger fan of fruit than veggies but I’d love some tasty recipes of any kind. And what is up with this wheatgrass shit?

Shake, Rattle and Roll

Ok. I am very PO’d! This is just not fair! Instead of feeling better I am feeling worse. My nausea is getting WORSE!! I don’t know why this is happening. It is the weirdest sensation to be nauseous and hungry at the same time. I wanna EAT!!! The meds are helping a bit and then it will just come upon me as a wave and gross me out. This makes me MAD!

Rant over…for now. Last night we had a wonderful spring storm with lightening and thunder and everything. These kinds of storms are quite rare so to get some real flashing action was a treat. It started just at sunset and lasted until I fell asleep. Yoshi was all tucked up behind my knees and didn’t even flinch with the racket.

Thunderstorms are one of my favourite things. Several years ago while I was travelling in Jamaica it was the just the beginning of hurricane season. This was the only time I could afford to go. Every afternoon there would be a short spate of storm activity and then the sun would come out and roast me and my diarrhea-ridden ass. Once we were sitting at an outdoor beach bar while the rain was sleeting down and this horrific sizzling kapow noise hit us. There was no separation between the flash and the thunder. Lightening had struck a palm tree about 30 feet away from us. The fronds were literally ON FIRE. And the smell. Ozone like I have never experienced before and a weird burning aroma from the poor tree. We decided to go inside during storms after that. The funny thing is that nobody at the resort even blinked an eye. The bartender just gave us all a round of drinks on the house. So we just turned out backs to the smoking palm and continued drinking.

Smithing

I just realised that I had not finished posting the "Kiss My Pope Ring" series. This is the last one.
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Pondering The Mysteries

I have been thinking a lot about Kylie Minogue over the last couple of days and her recent breast cancer diagnosis. We are the same age. I can’t say that I am a huge fan of her music but I have to admit she is one sexy chick. Two weeks ago my dear friend, Mr. P, saw her in concert while he was visiting London. According to P it was “Faggot Wonderland” and he had the best time EVER. As you all know I was at home getting chemo for my own breast cancer and was not able to partake in the festivities.

Whether you live a very ordinary life like myself or an extraordinary life like Kylie Minogue cancer never comes at the right time. Interestingly I have since learned that cancer often comes at the worst time.

At my very first oncology doctor’s appointment one amongst the millions of medical questions my doc asked me was how my life was recently. I told her that things had been going especially great lately. I mentioned that I was in the process of opening my own business that very easily could have meant a fair amount of financial freedom after having to “borrow” toilet paper from my folks on more than one occasion over the years. I said that I found it all too coincidental and I was very bitter about it. She smiled at me and told me the reason she asks that question is because more often than not she has found that newly diagnosed cancer patients are at the best parts of their life. That more often that not her patients tell her that things have very recently improved in some way like new babies or marriages. Sometimes a new job or a new house. Even retirement and an impending world trip. I didn’t really know what to say to that, as I couldn’t even grasp a reason why that might happen. It doesn’t make sense to me.

I can’t say I have ever felt like a rock star but I can certainly say I am now going through some of what Miss Minogue will be going through all too soon. I can’t imagine doing this in the spotlight. I wouldn’t mind having Olivier Martinez holding my hand through the tough parts either but it can’t be easy to be part of a scene that is so body conscious while dealing with breast cancer. For me there is no 3rd party before and after. I don’t have a boyfriend or husband who knew me as I was before and will have to get used to the changes after everything is done. Part of me is relieved but part of me is sad about that too. I will only have my subjective memories. And I am not just talking about the physical changes but the mental and emotional ones as well. She has images of her body splashed everywhere. She has copies of interviews and articles about each and every step of her career. The comparisons are going to be enormous for her. It is and will be a strange time for her as it is for everybody whose life drastically changes from one day to the next. She was on the top of her game.

I just feel really sad for her.

Self Portrait Thursday - Lighting Stand-Ins

This is me and Yoshi. I swear it is. I am the one with the black wet nose.
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The Seduction

Hey Yoshi. How are ya?
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Is he actually FLIRTING? My sign is "Go AWAY!"
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Sleeping with the enemy!
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I feel so dirty.
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Hey? What just happened?
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Day 5 of Second Chemofication

Yet another good day. I have been feeling more tired than yesterday but have eaten way more. The soup du jour is MISO. Lots of it. Yummy! I ate a baked potato with some yogurt on it too as well as a strawberry fruit popsicle. All is good.

Thanks for all the recommended reads. Keep those coming. I love to read and go through a lot of books so I am always looking for more material.

Spent most of the day either in bed or on the couch watching TV. Just got the first 2 discs of Season Three of Six Feet Under from my mail-in DVD rental service thingie. Those haven’t been shown on TV yet here in Canada so I am ahead of the crowd for once.

Had a wee visitor today and I took pictures so I will post those as soon as I recharge up my camera again. Ha ha! Something to entice you to come back.

Shaggy

Day 4 of Round 2 of Chemofication

Not too shabby is how I am feeling. Still lots of snoozing and such but food is not the enemy this time around. It is not my closest girlfriend either but I am eating grapes and pretzels and bananas and stuff like that. I get a little weirdly queasy off and on but nothing too bad. The best part is that I am not so toxic feeling this time. Only a few strange smells and bad tastes. Not too weak, just sleepy. I can’t say I am up and at em’ but I can email without too much stress and am able to chat on the phone and such for the most part. I just don’t feel like I am going to fall over or hurl or explode or anything like that. Good news!

My hair is falling out like gangbusters but no bald spots yet. I have a lot of hair to begin with so I will be vacuuming my bed out for days to come. Maybe I will shave more off but that is almost equally messy. Overall I am pretty thankful I can stay in my comfy home and deal with all this. I couldn’t imagine getting up and putting on my wig for work every day. The Mom Poo came by to bring me my daily dose of grapes and we had a visit. I am going to watch a DVD now and get horizontal again. Yoshi must be fed first or I will get no peace.

Thanks for all the nice comments. It feels good to know that there are lots of you sending good thoughts my way. Keep ‘em coming as well as yummy suggestions for eating. I have been craving Yam Tempura Rolls today. Hmmmmm. Doubt they would go down well but maybe next week.

Chemofication - No Problemo

Day 3 of 2nd Chemofication


Hey, it ain’t that bad this time. I ate some grapes and then some broth and crackers today and while it is not going down smoothly it sure isn’t rebelling much. Oh JOY! Oh BLISS!

I am not getting a lot of the weirder side effects yet and I hope they never come. No weird smells and bad tastes. I snoozed for most of the day or read my smutty library books. I don’t feel as gross or out of it like last time.

I am so excited that this might actually get better and better. I can actually see a future where after chemo I might not have any side effects at all. Now that would be a treat.

The only down side is that I didn’t win the $25 million lottery last Friday. Dammit!

Round 2 - Day 2

Day 2 of Second Chemofication

Not at bad day. Snoozing galore and even a little snack around midday. Went down fine, wanted to come up again but I would let it. Kranki=1. Hurlage=0. I am feeling better overall this round which bolsters my spirits a great deal. Just maybe this will get easier as time goes on.

The portacath hardly hurts at all now although there is a delightful yellow bruise all around it. And my hair is starting to fall out with a vengeance. I am worse than the damned cat. I have to de-hair my pillow several times a day with one of those sticky rollers. Works great. Still a little creepy though.

See, I have nothing exciting to tell you but no news is good news, right. Just hanging in there and listening to my body.

Why don’t you all tell me what fun you had this weekend. I am living vicariously through you!

#2 Chemofication - Day One

Just got back from Chemofication Part 2. Had raging panic attacks in the waiting room but my blood counts were up and I was ready to rumble. They used the portacath, which was very easy to use, and I can hear my veins thanking me already. Peep…peeep…See that is them honouring my concern over their wellbeing.

Must keep this short, as I am feeling pretty out of it. Ativan is my friend. It went ok today. I had to wait longer in the waiting room which got me all twitchy and then I started out alone in the chemo room but about 30 minutes into my treatment we got company-2 chatty ladies. So I was a little more anxious then but did ok. I am still here typing so obviously nothing bad happened. Just brain antics. Freaky deaky mind farts. The usual.

The Mom Poo will be returning later bearing pillows and gifts of nutritious food. Have even eaten a few crackers hoping if I keep my tum full it will feel better after opposed to the empty, cracked douche bag it became last time with me eating nothing for 6 days.

OK! Nothing is making much sense. My tortoise like reaction to everything around me is thwarting any attempt at cleverness. I should lie down and stay down.

I am fine, I am 1/3 of the way through my appointments, and I have a very concerned cat that is watching me like a hawk. Time for bed.

Will post more when I can. Thanks for all the positive vibes and well wishes.

Pre Chemofication

Today is the day before my second chemo appointment. I am taking it easy and really enjoying feeling good today. I am eating up a storm just in case I feel terrible again for a few days.

Yesterday found me at the Cancer Clinic again for a doctor’s appointment and blood work. I got some very good news. My bone scan came out clean so no metastasis which is a big relief. The tech told me it was a clean scan but part of me didn’t believe her as I had been told the same thing by the ultrasound radiologist and we all know what happened there. I got some potentially minor bad news. My blood counts were low and if they don’t come up by tomorrow my chemo must be postponed until they are at a good level. Some people might consider this a welcome respite but I just want it over with. After tomorrow I will be 1/3 of the way through my treatments and the chemo after that will put me at the halfway mark. After that I am over half way and almost finished. I also know that I should be taking this one day at a time. But a girl can dream, right? When I break it down like that it seems more manageable opposed to something I will be doing until August. That seems very far away. Hell, summer will be almost over!

Tabularasa posted a pic of her with super short hair so I have decided to post one of myself too. She took the first risk. Thanks! I probably could have showered and put on some make-up but I am very tired today and my blood count is low DAMMIT! (I’m sure chocolate will help) and I think you should see me, pasty skin and all. This is what I look like. Frankly, I am happy I still have hair.

So tomorrow is chemo and I am nervous about it as I know I will be feeling crappy soon. But then I might not. Got some different nausea meds so that will help me out. Did laundry yesterday so I am set with that. I have a game plan for eating through this and have got that figured out too. I think part of why I felt so bad last time is that all these sensations were weird and new. I know what to expect now. I also have a big shwack of Ativan. Oh YEAH! Whatever it takes to get through the day…

SPD-Well, It Was Taken In My Bedroom...

Looking like me.
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Sympathy Post

I almost feel bad for that dumb shit who flew over the White House today. He is going to be audited FOREVER!

I Was Tagged

I was tagged by Susie who asked so nicely I couldn't say no. Anything for you, Susie! What you have to do is pick 5 occupations you would like to be and tell us what you would do in that situation. Then pass this on to 3 fellow bloggers. I tag Fueltank, Sharkey Malarkey, and LBo who can post her reply in my comment section since she doesn't have a blog of her own.

If I could be an innkeeper
If I could be a librarian
If I could be a missionary
If I could be a writer
If I could be a bonnie pirate
If I could be a scientist
If I could be a farmer I would grow organic food and give it all away to people who are starving.
If I could be a musician I would play the drums and kick ass.
If I could be a doctor
If I could be a painter
If I could be a gardener
If I could be a chef
If I could be an architect I would build the most perfectly beautiful house for myself and then one for my parents.
If I could be a linguist
If I could be a psychologist
If I could be an athlete
If I could be a lawyer I would work on putting people who are cruel to animals BEHIND BARS WHERE THEY BELONG!!!!!!
If I could be a professor I would lecture on the beauty of art.
If I could be a llama-rider
If I could be an astronaut
If I could be a world famous blogger
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world
If I could be married to any current famous political figure

The End Result
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It's Drafty In Here

Well I did it. I shaved my head. Well, what is left is about an inch long. I think it looks terrible but my mom who had the buzzing honours thinks it looks cute. We’ll just call her The Impartial Third Party. I could roll in shit and she’d think it was cute. My mom is my biggest fan. That’s what moms do and I love her for it. It is definitely times like these that one really needs her own personal cheerleader.

It is actually quite liberating. My head feels lighter and there is no more creepy long hairs falling around me wherever I go. Yuck.

I am not quite ready to show you the results as it is all flat in some places and sticking up in others. I couldn’t shower today because of my recent porta-cath insertion. I will wash it and gel it up for a proper photo soon.

The hair was the final bastion of normalcy. I could almost pretend nothing was wrong but now every time I look in the mirror I will have visual evidence of my cancer. I should say of my TREATMENT for my cancer. That is a positive way of looking at it. It is the cure not the cancer that is causing this.

I am curious about how it will grow back. Will it be curly or straight? It is a little wavy now. Will it be all grey or grey free? It is a little grey now. I wonder.

Porta Potty Installation

Another day, another hospital procedure. I had to get a porta-cath installed this morning. This little gizmo allows the mean nursey people to take blood and fill me up with poison without wrecking my veins. What I didn’t’ really understand was this porta-cath is actually a large lumpy thing, about the size of a large coat button, that is EMBEDDED UNDER MY SKIN ON MY CHEST. Just before sunny camisole weather no less. I am sad. I am also almost The Bionic Woman. But my veins will thank me.

They lay you down on a gurney, pump you full of happy potion (I totally opted for this bit) and inject your neck and chest with local anaesthetic. Then the cut ya open, cauterize any little bleeders, jam this lumpy thing under your chest skin and insert a big tube into a large vein. You get stitched up and sent on your way. Can I just say that smelling your own flesh burn is not something I would recommend? Even on an empty stomach.

The whole thing took about 30 minutes and I was walking out about 15 minutes after that. I am pretty sore now and my head is being pulled to the right at the muscles contract with discomfort and the bandages pull and bind. Need me some more painkillers, I think.

Several people have assured me that this is a good thing to get and I will not regret it. The jury is still out and I will let you know. In the meantime I eat home made chocolate chip cookies. I got a prescription for them.

Follow This Link

I found this blog by accident. It is very cool/chillling/sad/sweet/fascinating. People send a homemade postcard containing a secret to an address and they are posted on this blog. I am hooked now. Post Secret. Check it out.

Spoiled Rotten

I just remembered this. One year when it was either Mother’s Day or Father’s Day I was sitting next to my dad on the couch. I was looking over all the sweet gifties that had been given and I said to my dad, “You guys are so lucky. Look at all those great gifts. I wish there was a Kids’ Day.” My dad looked at me and in the most bitter voice I have ever heard barked, “EVERYDAY IS KIDS’ DAY!!!!”

I think I laughed for about an hour afterwards.

UNMASKED! Mom Poo and Kranki

Here we are at my cousin LBo's wedding. I have a funny story to tell you about this day. I will write about it soon.
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For My Mom

Today is Mother’s Day so I want to send out a huge hug and kiss to my mom.

Dearest Mom Poo

I know this year it has been and it will be especially hard to be my mom with all the cancer stuff going on. So thank you, Mom, for being there for me. Even big girls need their mommas sometimes.

Love from me
XXXOOO

And hugs and kisses to LBo my cousin/sistafriend who loves and worries about me just as much as any mom and who is an amazing mom to her kids.

And, of course, best wishes to all the moms out there. You guys are there for your kids no matter what. Even when they are all growed up!

Life, The Universe and Everything

Just woke up from a lovely nap. The cat woke me many times early this morning with her Yowlin’ At The Ghosties routine so I was pretty pooped.

I was thinking while lying in bed that I haven’t really blogged about my cancer lately. Well, except to bitch and moan about my chemo side effects. The fact is that I am still trying to figure out the whens and whys of my cancer in my mind. It is still very difficult for me to accept this situation.

Right off the bat it was difficult for me to even understand that I had cancer because all the tests I had came out negative until the very last one. I have written the whole story on how I was diagnosed so you know that all indicators showed that there was no cancer. Then to find out that it had spread to my lymph nodes after once again all indicators pointed to a small localized area is very difficult to reconcile. Frankly I keep wondering if they have made a mistake. I know chances are they haven’t but I shake my head over it on a regular basis. How did the ultrasound not pick up the 1.6 cm tumour in my underarm? They said they saw a cyst there but tumours don’t look like cysts. The surgeon said in her notes that she felt this tumour but she never told me she felt anything. After my surgery this same surgeon told me that my lymph nodes looked fine to her. Wouldn’t you think she would have seen that tumour then? It just doesn’t add up. My cancer is not supposed to be aggressive so how come one day there was no lump and then the next there was? If this cancer took about 6-8 years to form wouldn’t you think I would have noticed such a tumour in my very small, less than A cup breast before it had spread to 9 lymph nodes? I just don’t get it. I don’t UNDERSTAND! How did this get so far without me noticing it? How did this happen to me?

I don’t understand how I can have cancer and feel fine. I keep on thinking that I should be feeling something beyond the lump. How did I get cancer at 35 years old? I am vegetarian. I don’t abuse my body. I don’t deserve this. I am a good person.

And that is the worst part. I know that people don’t deserve their cancer and that very nice people who have never hurt anybody in their lives get cancer every day. I know that the world does not work like that but I keep on thinking that I don’t DESERVE to have this. I didn’t do anything wrong. My family didn’t do anything wrong. I keep on having to remember that so called divine justice doesn’t go out and only afflict those who have done wrong with just punishment. It just doesn’t work that way. So then I wonder if I was nasty in another life and this is karma. But then that makes me sad that I would get punished in this life for something I did in another. It doesn’t seem fair either. And then I tell myself that the world is just not fair and that is the way it is. Little kids get cancer and they are innocent. They don’t deserve it either. I am vainly trying to reconcile something that can never be reconciled.

I have said it before and I will say it again but cancer, and car accidents and death and horrible things that happen every day to people –you never think it is going to happen to you. This is the sort of stuff that happens to others. Although I know that when I go to the cancer clinic I am surrounded by people who have cancer, I have never felt so alone in my life. I have never felt so afraid either. Talk about life challenges. I HATE uncertainty. I hate not being in control. Well I have got to get over that. I have to find a way to make that way of existing OK in my mind because I will have this lurking in the background forever. I have been changed. I hate that I will never be the same again.

Tiko McTicklesworth

This is Tiko. Or Little Fattie.
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Reminiscing

I was reading Squirl’s Blog this morning and a story she posted about her cat reminded me of the cat we had while I was growing up.

Our family had lived in an apartment until I was 10 years old when we moved into our very first house. Up until that time I had shared a room with my little brother. Now I had my own room for the very first time. Until then we had not been allowed any pets beyond many fish and a budgie so right off the bat my brother and I started moaning for a cat or dog.

We went to my aunt and uncle’s for Easter a few weeks after moving. Lo and behold my cousin’s girlfriends’ cat had just had kittens and they had one left. A male Siamese who was one the goofiest things we had ever seen. Of course we got on the phone to my dad who had stayed behind for work and snivelled and begged for this cat. He finally relented and we brought the beast home. I named him Tiko. This cat loved everybody and if you moved your body in any way that created a lap type protuberance he was on it. And then sucking your fingers. He was really weird.

Tiko also had another habit that was very destructive and caused all sorts of trouble in the house. Tiko would eat clothes. Every door had to be shut against him. He could sneak in and devour a sock in 3 minutes flat. Then he would barf it up right where you would step in it on a midnight bathroom run. It was truly gross. That cat ate his way through hundreds of dollars worth of clothing over the years. The vet didn’t know what to do with him. They told us we could pay for thousands of dollars worth of tests and never know why he did what he did. I have heard they now believe it is a need for extra fibre that causes cats to eat strange objects and that it can be fixed through a prescription diet. But at the time nobody had a clue why he did this. One time he snuck into my parent’s closet and ate the cuffs off a dozen sweaters hanging off the rod. My brother and I often found our coat cuffs wrecked after we had only draped them over a chair for a few minutes. We would get into so much trouble but my parents were caught out with their stuff a couple times so nobody could really point fingers. And Tiko would suck that pointed finger anyway. One time he ate the entire collection of stamps my dad had soaked off letters and postcards that were drying on paper towels in the bathroom. My dad was so mad he tossed the cat out the window. I think it was to get him away so he didn’t strangle him. There was a deck right there so he landed with no problems but he was lucky he got off so easy. Nobody messes with my dad’s stamp collection and lives to talk about it. One time he carefully picked all the pantyhose out of my visiting cousin’s closed but not locked suitcase and ate all the cotton crotches. This cat was seriously fucked. But we loved him.

He was totally cross-eyed and would often climb up tall trees or onto the neighbour’s roof and not be able to get down. Then the Siamese howling would commence and not stop until he was rescued. One night my dad had to carry a ladder up to the neighbour’ back deck and rescue the yowling cat at 3am in a rainstorm. We would have left him but the neighbour’s bedroom window was right there. Not to mention the whole neighbourhood being able to hear his racket.

Tiko, despite his faults was really a sweet cat. It had the uncanniest ability to wiggle in between my parents in bed and push them both to the very outside edge. He would climb into bed with me and lay on my back pinning me down so I couldn’t turn over. He would come back for more when my brother would torture him, as young boys are apt to do. Poor Tiko, he just kept coming back for more.

When he was getting on in years he made friends with Teddy, the next-door neighbour’s young chocolate point Siamese. It was like a second childhood for him. We would come home and find them both sleeping on the bed or playing in the garden. One day Teddy disappeared and Tiko was never the same after. The owners think somebody stole Teddy. Poor Tiko never got over it. He seemed to age faster after that.

Once we came home and found that Tiko had stolen a beautiful sheepskin moccasin from the neighbour’s house. He had a bad habit of wandering into other people’s houses around the hood. Everybody loved him so he never learned to stay away. He was so fat even though we watched his food intake like a hawk. Probably he was eating out at fancy houses daily. Anyway, we found this slipper half consumed in our basement. Tiko hurled up colourful bugle beads. Then the neighbour stopped by and asked if we had seen his slipper. Tiko’s reputation was spreading and we were so busted. My mom totally denied it and buried the offending evidence deep into the garbage. She feels guilty to this day. We were all enablers for his terrible habit.

I was long moved out of the house when Tiko collapsed in front of his food bowl one day. We knew he was not going to get better. He was 16 years old at that point. I visited the next day and I couldn’t believe how thin he had become overnight. I felt terrible. He was so cold and I could see his spine poking through his skin. The next day my parents had him put to sleep. I cried like a baby. I am crying now. He was really a lovely cat.

Miss Smelly Buminski

Yoshi Friday.
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Spike

Well SPD went by uncelebrated in my house because I thought it was Friday yesterday. Does that make sense? No. And it doesn't explain why I didn't put up a portrait on Wednesday. Well, that was because I KNEW it was Wednesday. Don't ask.

This is my theme this week - Space Cadet. I am so out of it. Frankly, my employer should feel lucky that I am not working through this. And I am self-employed. Chemo brain already? That is my story and I am sticking to it.

Instead of trying to make sense of the stuff whirling around my brain I am continuing my "Kiss My Pope Ring" series. Enjoy.

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Vigilante Justice

I fear I may have got you hopes up too high about my sweet revenge. I did not put a laxative in her tea although I thought about it. I did not cut up her laundry that I had to wash and dry and fold for her every week although I thought about it. I did not infect her laptop with a virus although I thought about it. I will tell you what I did and you may not understand how this was vengeful to me.

1. I was consistently polite, on time and committed at my job. I always had a smile on my face. This showed her and my co-workers that I was a professional even though it was my first big league gig. It also emphasised how petty she was.

2. I stayed calm, cool and collected when inside I was scared, angry and stressed while she freaked out over every little thing.

3. I arranged for a parting gift for her that I knew she wanted and would love, knowing that EVERY TIME she used the gift she would know deep down in her black shrivelled heart that I was the only one who knew to get it for her and was responsible for its purchase.

4. I packed up and shipped out her personal belongings (Designers get their belongings shipped via courier free of charge so they don’t have to deal with 4-6 months worth of luggage on the plane. Nice perk, huh?), carefully wrapping everything in tissue and making sure it was packed beautifully knowing that when she received her personal items she would see my name on the manifest as the person who TOUCHED ALL OF HER STUFF!!!

5. I wrote a really nice blurb in her farewell card about how it was such a pleasure to work with her.

I can be pretty subtle.

Basically I was the bigger person and took the high road at all times so I would know deep down that not one single bad thing she had to say about me had any truth to it whatsoever.

I also know something about her that she doesn’t know that makes me smile every time I think about it.

She told me this story when I was still in the good books about how she received a lovely very expensive watch (a brand I covet myself) as a gift from a producer/director/big wig for a film she worked on. A few months later she asked a worker bee to take the watch to the jeweller as the battery had died. She said that worker bee came back and told her that once the jeweller got the back off the watch it was found to be a very good imitation. She said she laughed and bought a real one to replace it as she loved the style so much.

At the time I complimented her on her watch as it was another brand of pricey jewellery that I also covet. She said that her husband, now deceased, had given her that watch as a gift. It meant a great deal to her. Not more than a week later she gave me this watch to take to the jeweller as its battery had died. It was one of those situations where I put it in my purse and checked on it a million times as I was so afraid it might magically jump out and loose itself. I went to a very fancy jewellery store as I knew they would treat the watch right and could be trusted if I had to leave it. The repair clerk whistled in appreciation when he saw the watch and when I explained that it wasn’t mine he asked me if I knew how much it was worth. Believe me, I knew. He went to put a battery in it while I waited. Then he came out with a smirk on his face. You guessed it – FAKE WATCH!!!!!!

I never told her. I told everybody in the costume department though.

A Favour

*****It has occured to me that some of you who know me may know what designer and show I am talking about. I ask you not to mention this in the comments section so I don't get sued and have to hand over my sushi money to this rich woman. I NEED my sushi, people.

A Long Post So Get Yourself A Beverage

I put it out there that I would take suggestions from people on what to blog about. Not too many of you actually suggested topics which means that you can not come back to me and complain about how boring my blog is getting or how long this post is. You have been forewarned. Susie suggested that I post something about working in the film industry. I didn’t work in it for very long but in this biz that doesn’t necessarily mean that I would not have a lot to talk about. I do. Working on films has got to be one of the most bizarre occupations out there. There is no glamour. None. There is lots of aggravation, terrorizing and angst. Lots.

The first job I did was as an assistant designer on a low budget indie film. I had volunteered on short films in the past but this was my first paying gig. We had so much fun and the higher-ups were so funny and cool that it completely negated any crap I had to deal with and I have to say there was very little crap on that show. It was a great first experience and it completely spoiled me. No other job I ever had since was that fun.

The very first union job I did was in the summer of 2003. I got the job as a total fluke. It was the busiest summer in ages for the city so crew was in short supply. The fact that I had metalsmithing experience, made costumes for my cat and actually owned a Bedazzler were the chief qualifications for my employment. I was a craft costumer, which means I did all sorts of crafty type things to do with the costumes and accessories without actually being a seamstress and working with clothes. I altered jewellery, made hats, and did, well, all sorts of fun and crafty things. The glue gun was never far from my hand. The designer on this gig was from L.A. and quite famous. I will not say her name or what show this was as I talked about it with some friends and family and we decided that even though I could back up everything I am going to tell you that she could probably sue me for slander. This is the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

I started the job after the previous craft costumer was fired. Should have known then what I was getting into. I was warned right off that this designer was “very temperamental’ and quite “eccentric”. Learn from my mistakes, if you hear this about your boss DO NOT TAKE THE JOB! I was very much looking forward to working with this designer, as she is a very talented woman. Chances are you have seen a movie she has designed and you have commented on the costumes. I really thought I’d learn a lot. What I did learn is that the film industry is not for me. First of all I should mention that I am the kind of person who when stressed does not spazz out and loose it. The more stressed I am the calmer and quieter I get. My focus gets deeper so I can get what needs to be accomplished done. If you think about the dynamic of a costume department it is solely made up of women with a few flamboyant gay men thrown in for fun. Can you say drama? When you are surrounded by people who are freaking out on any given day over any given situation and you are not freaking with them some people think you are not taking the situation seriously. I was taking things very seriously but I have to set the tone here so you can understand what I was going through. I am not cut out for film work on many levels.

When I started the job I was very much in this designers good books. She loved me and what I was doing. She gave me a lot of creative rope to play with. I hung myself with it eventually but I will get to that in good time. While I was in the good books there were other costume crewmembers on the shit list that were systematically fired for very stupid things. One woman was asked to leave because she sat down without being invited in a meeting with The Designer. Another woman was fired because she talked too much about her husband and child. Basically The Designer would get some hate-on for some poor worker bee and that person would be dismissed. Then the next person would be picked on until a grand total of 6 people were fired over the 3 months of the gig. Even though I was in the good books I knew I could be demoted to a resident of Dumpsterville at any time. It didn’t take long. I won’t tell you what single incident precipitated my demise but let me just say it was very petty and reflects very poorly on The Designer. After than I could do nothing right. NOTHING.

I used to get the jobs I had to do in little bunches as the fittings would progress and once an outfit was confirmed then I would have to start making accessories for the outfit. We have prep costumers in the costume department whose sole responsibility is to shop for the department. I would get the prep costumers to buy my supplies a lot of the time but after the first firings we only had one to do all the work of 2 or 3 people. I found it much faster to go to the huge craft store two blocks away to get my more immediate supplies, as I needed them. A lot of the time I wouldn’t even know exactly what I needed unless I scouted the store myself. The Designer started complaining that I was spending more time out of the workshop than working. This was completely untrue but I was told that I was not allowed to get my own supplies anymore. So picture this, I would get work to do on Day One. The prep costumer would be out of the office at this point so I would have to phone her to tell her what I needed. Most of the time she would be too busy to get my supplies that day so she would get them the following day and they would arrive at my desk at the end of Day 2. Sometimes then I would even have to wait to get colour/material approval before I could start. Then often I would actually start working on the project the day after that, on Day 3 or 4. So I started getting in trouble because I was waiting 1-4 days to start projects. This was so frustrating as I could have got most of my own my own supplies in 30 minutes from this craft store and the poor overworked prep costumer hated having all that extra stuff to do on top of her already overbooked day. One day The Designer came into my area and saw me working on something she had told me to do a couple days prior. I had just finally got all the components I needed to start the project. She started screaming at me saying, “I am over this now! This should have been completed already!” and grabbed the item out of my hand and threw it in the garbage. It was not even close to the actual deadline for completion but in her mind it should have been finished moments after she thought of it. I didn’t explain the situation to her as we were expressly told that we could not “bother” her with details as it “distracted” her from her “creative process”. I just sat there and apologised.

One day I got called aside for a talk with The Designer and my supervisor. I thought I was getting sacked for sure. I have never been fired from a job and I didn’t want to start with my first union gig. I was sure I would be blacklisted for years and never work again. The Designer was obviously very upset and she started telling me that I was making her tea wrong. She explained that she had complained to my supervisor about it and she was sick and tired of shitty tea. I apologised and told her I was making it like I was shown by one of the now fired employees. She very seriously said that THAT GIRL had been making it wrong too and it just had to stop NOW. I couldn’t help it but I laughed. I told her she should have just come up to me MONTHS AGO and told me instead of letting it bother her for so long. I then had to go to the assistant designer and apologise to him too about his tea being too weak.

The day of infamy that I will never forget was one morning when the real deadline was at the end of the day and a couple spare worker bees were conscripted to help me complete all my tasks. We had had to hire a driver for The Designer, as she was too nervous to drive. However she rarely used this person and kept on getting rides with the assistant designer anyway. So this driver was asked to help me for the day. We all knew that if The Designer needed her driver that his poor soul would stop whatever she was doing to help and go do her thing. All The Designer needed to do was phone. I needed some supplies for a leather project immediately. The driver was in real life a leather expert so I asked her if she would go get the necessary items and to do this project. I called the supervisor to make sure it was ok. She didn’t answer her phone so I left a message telling her what I was doing. All of us decided that it was probably ok to send this person on this errand as she had run errands earlier in the day and was merely a phone call away from The Designer if she was needed. So this driver ran the errand in about an hour, came back, finished the project and was helping out on something else when one of the crew from the set popped by and told the driver that The Designer was wondering where she was. The driver got very worried and checked her phone messages and there was no call from The Designer. We checked all the office phone’s voicemail and there were no messages from The Designer. So the driver called The Designer to see if she had missed anything. When asked by The Designer what she had been doing all day the driver replied that she had run an errand for me. She did not say that this errand was work related and that she had run errands for other people and that she had spent most of the day at the workshop doing actual work. She just mentioned me. So The Designer asked to speak with me. I knew what was coming but I was not prepared for what happened. I have never been screamed at like that in my life. If I was actually in this person’s presence I am sure she would have jumped me and pummelled me to a pulp. The Designer was hysterical. I was under no circumstances to override her authority and blah blah blah. And that I had, ”ROYALLY FUCKED UP HER DAY!!!!!!!” Then she slammed the phone down in my ear. Now remember that she had never phoned the driver to say she needed her. The only difference is that with the looming deadline the driver was in the workshop more rather than running supplies back and forth from the workshop to the set thereby occasionally in the view of The Designer. In all probability The Designer didn’t ever need the driver but was just pissed that it was me who had used her driver. If the driver had mentioned running errands for anybody else there wouldn’t have been a problem. Remember there had been about 6 weeks of Kranki Hate-On prior to this episode filled with weird, petty and downright incorrect accusations against me by The Designer. So what did I do? I told her that I understood perfectly and that it wouldn’t happen again. I did not apologise, as I didn’t feel that I had anything to apologise for. The next day I was removed from my craft job and sent to work on set with extras. A very clear demotion. I was devastated.

Once on set the angst did not stop there. As that month went by things went from bad to worse to hellish. Pretty soon I was not allowed to speak to The Designer. Then I was not allowed to look at The Designer. Then I was not allowed to go into the office if The Designer was there. You know how humiliating it was to have to ask co-worker to get supplies I needed from the office because I was not allowed in there? Very. Then I was not allowed to talk to the actors. Then I was not allowed to dress the extras. My final job was checking off the extras’ names on the call sheet and taking continuity photos. My coworkers were afraid to talk to me. I was a pariah. It was obvious she was trying to get me to quit. I learned later that the union had started to question the firings or she would have got rid of me long before. So what did I do? I stuck it out just to bug her. At a HUGE personal emotional toll. When I learned that she was not moving on to another show but staying for yet another extra week I sobbed like a baby. It was the most stressful time knowing that no matter what I did it would be wrong and I never knew when she would jump out to get me. For instance, just to illustrate how screwed I was, one sweltering day I didn’t notice she was in the office and I walked in holding my jacket. She came roaring around the corner yelling, “What are you doing?!?! What do you have in your hand?!?!?!” like I was stealing shit. What I was actually doing and what I said was, “I am hot so I am hanging up my jacket.” Which I did and I spun on my heel and walked away. I am not kidding. It was that bad.

Her final parting shot to me was that she gave every single costume crewmember a gift except for me.

Tune in tomorrow when I tell you the subtle ways I got back at her.

Turds and Hurls

I got tagged by Spoonie. She is lucky she is so nice and lives so far away or I'd.......

Turd in a punch bowl
Makes me want to hurl
Turd in a punch bowl
Not for this party girl

Here are the rules for Turd Poetry:
1. Write a four line poem with the 1st and 3rd lines being "turd in a punch bowl"
2. Make lines 2 and 4 rhyme, using any topic
3. Tag three other bloggers and force them to post a turdy poem on their own turdy blog.

I tag Suburban Misfit, Precision Girl, and Mouse!

Playcat

The sun is shining and Yoshi is taking advantage of it as usual. This particular position is a first, though. That appendage hanging off the side is her LEG! You can just see her tail peeking out from under her other back leg. Even for Yoshi, this is a whole new level of slothitude.
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Kiss This

Feather Boa Ring
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Here is another instalment of the Pope Ring series. I am trying to remember what the display case was like for this project. I don’t have any photos although if I know my dad he would have taken some at the opening night show. I will have to ask. I seem to remember it was some sort of Gothic arch contraption with a bunch of black feathers. I always was a drama queen. It paid off for me this time as I won the prize for best design that year. Other times it has caused me to be grounded for a month. It is all about context.

You Asked For It!

Silver, velvet and semi-precious stones.
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Best day so far! Guess what I did today? I did LAUNDRY! Four whole loads! I know, not exciting but I am so happy to be able to actually DO something. I hate to say it and I know many would disagree but lying on the couch gets old pretty quick. I could probably lay on the couch for longer if I didn’t neeeeeeeed to lie there. Since I had no choice in the matter it became most intolerable. Reverse psychology works on adults too.

I have had a couple requests for pics of my jewellery. I have not done any jewellery outside of a work situation for over 5 years. I no longer have a studio since my parents moved out of the familial home into the “Love Shack” near the park. The shack doesn’t have a basement so I don’t have a studio.

What I am going to do is post a photo each day of jewellery stuff I have done in the far past. I will start off with my graduating class project titled, “Kiss My Pope Ring.” This seems fitting due to recent events. Every piece is a ring but take that term loosely. Few of my rings are actually wearable. Mostly they were self-indulgent creative pieces in a so-called jewellery format. Most of the photos are not great quality due to the difficulty in photographing small shiny objects with inadequate camera equipment but you will get the gist.