FINALLY! *

So I’ve been a little sick the last few days. It started out like strep throat which, of course, hit me during our Canadian long weekend. By the time my doc’s office was open again the lurgy had morphed into a cold where antibiotics were useless. It was a weird and wonderful sniffle where I’d suddenly cough until I gagged and I’d sweat until drenched. My voice warbled, my tummy grumbled and I was very out of sorts. One of those kinds of viruses that make you feel like ass but don’t quite knock you on it. Being upright felt terrible but lying in bed was worse; really boring.

While I missed a much needed haircut and a consultation for laser hair removal (what a sexy theme) I did manage to go an ‘Emergency Preparedness’ seminar at my local community centre. I was asked to attend as I am on-call for a week every month or so for emergency situations in my apartment building. We don’t have an on-site manager after business hours so some tenants, including me, were hired to be available if the shit hits the fan. Figuratively. If any real shit hits any actual fan and causes a big mess then that is the tenant’s problem and isn’t considered a real emergency and, therefore, not my responsibility. However, if the fecal collision causes fire, flood or injury then I’m the one who calls the authorities and lets them into the building.

So what I thought was an informal chat about general emergency situations turned out to be an emotional plea from a uniformed fireman to get it into our thick heads that an earthquake, THE BIG ONE, was imminent and we should all GET PREPARED!

Now if you live on the West Coast you have heard your whole life that there is going to be a HUGE earthquake; sometime between the next minute and 600 years. This sort of time-frame doesn’t really light a Boy Scout fire under my butt to ‘Be Prepared’ with any kind of urgency.

Well sisters and brothers, after 4 hours in gory detail of what to expect when (not IF, dammit, but whennnnnnn…) The Big One hits I have been converted. I am now a card carrying fear monger. I’ve been spreading the anxiety to others and, to practice what I preach, spending the last few days compiling my emergency kit and making list of what I need to know to survive in the urban wilderness sans water, food and a toilet.

In the past, when thinking about what I would do in event of an actual earthquake I have to admit to assuming that, yeah, there will be a jiggle or two and I could just wander down to the local community centre, my nearest emergency resource location, and get water, food and medical assistance as I needed. Even seeing all the terrible news footage of the big California quake in the 90’s and what happened after Katrina I still managed to blame that on crappy building codes and stupid government policy. I rationalized that the Canadian government actually took care of its citizens and that we (the grand yet ambiguous we) had our shit together and would be taken care of.

Oh ho! Soooooo not the case. Denial was my bedmate but now I sleep alone. Afraid and alone. All sorts of acronyms were thrown at me but the one that sticks in my mind the most is YOYO. That, my friends, translates to You’re On Your Own. I learned that it will be at least 72 hours, if not several days, before anybody can expect any kind of assistance from authorities and aide workers. OMG! That means unless you provide the basics for yourself you are SOL. And if that is the case nobody will be there to hear your whining so STFU. Also BYOB. I packed water but vodka would work too.

So many interesting points were brought up, yet the one foremost in my mind was the suggestion to pack garbage bags into your emergency kit as it is likely your toilets will no longer work and you basically have to poop somewhere. Fabulous. The Bag of Shame.

* Um, actually this post is about a week old and I still have to catch you all up on even more recent news. Also my Bloglines isn't working right so I have to catch up on all your blogs as well. Bear with me. I'll be around, I promise.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Snuggle Time With Mrtl

I was very thrilled to have been able to meet with Mrtl and Mr. Mrtl this week. On their way to their new digs in the Deep Dark South they drove through my wee town and we met up for breakfast. This was a landmark moment for me as it was the first time I've eaten in a restaurant in over 3 years. I went out for lunch with my folks within a few days of my cancer diagnosis and had such a raging panic attack I had to flee the premises. I hadn't eaten out since. So I decided that meeting The Mrtls was the perfect time to test my new brain chemistry. SUCCESS!

I had a giant pancake.

After breakfast Mr. Mrtl left us gals to go do his Man Stuff so I took Mrtl back to my place to meet Yoshi. The key to a successful Yoshi interaction is to show no fear, ignore her at first and then just start to pet her like you are not expecting to become intimate with her claws and teeth. Obviously Mrtl is well versed in Insane Feline Psychology as she not only pet Yoshi but held her tense little body without bloodshed.Seemingly Sweet Encounter (actual life threatening situation)

After a thorough fur removal from our clothing we hopped in my car and drove to Granville Island where we walked through all the stores and drooled over the food.

Exactly why sneeze guards were invented.

We tootled to Walmart for some necessities and then had a coffee in the mall.

Back at my place after further Yoshi harassment we both chatted with Susie on the phone for a bit. That was pretty damned cool. And surreal. There I was sitting in my apartment with Mrtl talking with Susie Fairchild. I almost expected Bucky to come dancing out of my bedroom wearing assless chaps.

The sun was shining and the temps were balmy so Mrtl and I took a walk through Stanley Park and visited the local Cupcake Consumption Facility on Denman Street. We figured we'd done enough walking to have spare calorie units to spend. I had to sample a new flavour so I am officially overdrawn. *button pops off jeans*

Heron Poop Zone-Largest Urban Heron Nesting Site in North America

We finished our walk and Mr. Mrtl picked Mrtl up for the next leg of their journey. We took a farewell photo where I attempted to look cute and petite next to Mrtl who is cute and petite. No such luck.

I Has Too Menni Veggeecheezbrgrs

It was GREAT meeting you!

You can check out some more photos of our meeting at Mrtl's Place including Yoshi wearing some fabulous knitted hats compliments of the magic fingers of Mrtl.

My Own Private Store

Some of you have shown interest in my fabric grocery bags. I've put them all up on FLICKR so you can check them out.

The Scoop, The Poop, The Skinny

*big sigh*

You have no idea how many times I've said to myself that I HAVE to update my blog and then get totally distracted and, well, don't.

So sorry.

Here is what is happening with me lately.

I am EXTREMELY busy.

Specifically I have, with very little notice, committed to participating in a craft fair. In theory this is a great thing. In practice it means I've been up to 2-2:30 am every night madly sewing stuff to sell. I've got lavender owls (Nighty Night Owls), little zippered pouches, fabric magnets and fabric grocery bags.

I seriously lost my mind and bought a total shit load of incredibly beautiful designer fabric (like several hundred dollars worth [I am a total fabric whore at the best of times but I went overboard with this]) planning to make billions of these bags. Well, it takes about 2 hours for each bag so I am totally running out of time before I am running out of fabric. I know I can sell stuff at the Christmas craft fairs but I really want to do well this weekend so I don't feel bad for buying so much.

You know, that evil mix of guilt and high expectations and stress? I call it 'Oh My God What Have I Done!?!' - That would be me.

Did I mention that somehow I got roped into the committee that is arranging this craft fair (actually they are calling it a Art Market but it takes everything I've got not to call it a Fart Market to their faces) (you know-because it rhymes) (and because I am a 10 year old boy deep inside) so I've got that on my mind as well.

And Oh YES! I've started a little job while not time consuming is also very much on my mind. And then all the work I am doing for UrbanBeast.ca is taking up some serious time.

So the poor blog is really being ignored. So is Yoshi who punished me by pooping on my bathmat the other day. The first time she has ever done anything like that in her 10 years on this planet. The same 10 years that nearly ended when I saw the poop. But it did work as I very quickly stopped ignoring her. Very loudly too.

Anyway, so that is my life right now. Please forgive my lack of updates.

Also anybody want to buy a fabric grocery bag or 6?

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Snoozapaloooza

It has been a bit of a rough week here in my body. I've been getting terrible migraine type headaches which then lead to horrible neck and shoulder spasms. If I'm not in pain I'm on painkillers or hung-over from painkillers. This is something I deal with often this time of year due to the seriously wacked out weather (you called it Squirl!) that occurs with Springtime. High pressure followed by low pressure etc. several times a day. Rain, sun, hail, lightening, sun, rain, sun, wind, cats, dogs, toads, blood filled rivers...

You get the picture.

I'm not sure which is worse; the headaches or not knowing what the frick to wear when I go out.

So this post's theme is sleeping. Something I've been doing a lot this week and something that Yoshi is exceptionally good at.

Somebody is going to need a muscle relaxant after this nap.

Sleeping in a Meerkat Manner.

Must...nibble....toes...with dipping sauce.

I'm Totally Seriously...

Guess what? Another migraine looms on my horizon so I am off to bed with more Tylenol 3s. However, I shall return tomorrow (or I guess today but later on, right?). In the meantime check this out. My cross-stitch was featured on this site.

A Lengthy Excuse

My typical Crush Your Cat's Head Friday post is MIA because of an unscheduled change in plans. Without warning it became Fall Asleep On The Couch Ridiculously Early Friday which unexpectedly turned into a Pukey Migraine From Hell Saturday. The next thing I knew it was the afternoon of Brutal Painkiller Hangover Sunday which then predictably lead to Catch Up On My Whole Life Monday.

Here is hoping that Running Errands All Over The City Tuesday will allow for an Obsessively Reflecting On My Boring Mundane Life Wednesday post.

Bet you can't wait.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-A Piss in the Hand is Worth Two in the Litter Box

So Yoshi turned 10 years old on Monday and we celebrated with a can of crab (which she turned her nose up at) and a call from the on-call vet with a diagnosis of severe urine crystals. He seemed quite concerned and hoped Yoshi was feeling better. I had to explain that Yoshi is feeling just fine and has no symptoms at all of this condition. I just had the testing done as a routine thing at her last check-up. He was confused and told me to make the cat drink more water to flush those little suckers out.

Yeah...ok.

So she has a lovely brand new water fountain which she sniffs at and perhaps touches her tongue to but otherwise pretty much ignores. So it just sits there making gurgling noises which inspires a somewhat uncomfortable feeling in my bladder leading to the occasional pee pee dance.

I've now changed her diet from mostly dry kibble with a small serving of canned food to a very smelly large bowl of watered down canned food and a few nuggets of dry featuring actual flavour and texture. And did I mention water? Lots of water.

It is all about the water. And keeping me paranoid.

Did you know that you can't even lead a cat to water let alone make the little turd drink?

I now lurk around her litter box making sure she isn't in any pain or discomfort when she takes a wazz. She seems fine except for the very telling embarrassed posture of her tail. Madam desires privacy and what I am doing feels worse than reading a child's diary. Way worse and much weirder.

If I don't chill out I may be pissing diamonds myself before long.

Your concern bores me.

You have got to chillax.

Sparkly Pee Pee - I Has It.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-About That Time

Yoshi has the most uncanny sense of time. About 3 minutes before her usual dinner hour she wakes up, climbs all over me like a monkey, thrusts her face within inches of mine and gives me this...

THIS LOOK!

Feeeeeed Meeeeeeeeeeeee!
*urgent grunting noises*

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Questions and Some Cute

Holy crap! Look! A Crush Post that is not 3 days late and totally lame. Ok, I guess I can't say for sure about the lameness part. Only time will tell with that.

And now for the crush...

My mom went to Target and all she bought me was this frickin' elephant hat!

Duuuude! They are so going to kick my ass on the playground.

I know that was pretty cute but don't go yet! I still need you! I don't think I've mentioned on my blog that I have new product on www.urbanbeast.ca available for sale. Blank notecards to be exact. I do send out a newsletter every time I add stuff but if you haven't signed-up on the website you are simply not in the know about these things. So go sign-up! I'll be adding more cool stuff shortly!

Speaking of more cool stuff. Here is a poll I need you guys to check out. Help me pick what Yoshi photos I should get made into magnets. Seriously, I need help. An objective opinion, if you will. So vote!

Opinion Polls & Market Research

Dating Myself

This is so awesome in so many ways I don't even know where to start.

The Curse Continues

It has been a less than fun week for me. I got sick. Quite sick. In fact 2008 will forever be remembered as The Year I Puked On My Birthday And I Wasn’t Even Drunk. And if you don’t know me then you cannot fully understand how traumatic this was on a couple levels.

First of all I suffer from this pretty severely. And as such I will not get into my particular lurgie with any great details. Secondly it was my 39^th birthday. The LAST YEAR I will be in my 30s. A dinner party was planned and had to be cancelled. In fact my whole birthday weekend was a complete blur of ick and grossness.

I woke up Saturday (March 1-my birfday) quite early with terrible cramps. Whole torso cramps opposed to your typical gurgley tummy type situation. Only now that I am feeling better do I understand how sick I really was as I simply laid in bed, labour breathing through each spasm, idly thinking, “Hmmmmm…I wonder why my stomach feels so bad.” Opposed to say, calling 911 or getting my ass to my doctor.

I eventually called my folks to let them know that I was likely not going to make it to dinner citing ‘gas pains or something.’

I then took some Tylenol 3s and dozed for awhile.

Other than the cramps I felt fine.

Then I got out of bed and walked around a little.

Big mistake.

Gravity was the final incentive my gut needed and I experienced the worst Thunder From Down Under in my life. Thinking it was a good idea to drink a little to keep hydrated it was then I was joined by a disgusting rally from the northern regions.

The next few days were unpleasant to say the least.

As such I was unable to attend the Apartment Blessing and remain cursed. I wonder if my stomach flu was a clever ‘spirit ploy’ to keep me from the ceremony thereby reducing the youthful (borderline) energy I would have contributed to banishing the bad vibes or simply a pesky Norwalk virus compliments of the old people in my building. Either way, well played intestinal horrors, well played.

Spooky

So I like to think I am a very enlightened, tolerant and open minded sort of gal. I have my own little quirky life filled with my own little quirky likes and dislikes and as such maintain a motto of, “Whatever melts your butter.” While I may not agree with or even remotely understand others and what they do in their lives I also don’t like to harsh on anyone’s mellow by being all judgmental and shit. Everybody has to do their own thing, right?

So along with being enlightened, tolerant and open minded I am also mentally about as mature as a teenaged boy. A very poorly brought up, over imaginative, and under stimulated adolescent male. Combine that with an uncontrollable reflex to joke about inappropriate things and I am exactly the wrong person to take to a funeral, bris, beat poet reading, truck and tractor pull, flaky art opening, or interpretive dance performance. While everybody is deadly serious, enraptured, entertained or sad I am cracking my own shit up and hoping to cause others to snicker at entirely the wrong moments with well timed snide remarks. In a caring and accepting way, of course.

I’ve been told this is a defense mechanism to avoid feeling and displaying strong emotions. I call it a cagey survival instinct. I mean, seriously? Have you seen the phlegm fly from a beat poet’s mouth or the strange and alarming bulges flaunted by unitard wearing dancers? I simply have no other recourse. It is either immaturity or complete brain strangulation.

Fortunately I am in good company. My best friend Pablo has made me promise, at his funeral, to throw myself weeping and screaming onto his casket wearing a fabulous red couture gown. Seriously, this is his wish. In the event that he outlives me I’ve asked him to discreetly pour my cremains into the shoes left outside the private dining booths at the local sushi restaurant.

Here is the thing. Next week there is to be a First Nations cleansing ritual performed on my apartment building. We have all been invited to attend. I’ve told you about the fire that broke out (was set?) in the suite above me. Since then we’ve had numerous false alarms and just a couple weeks ago another fire in a suite caused by a malfunctioning clothing dryer. There have been a few deaths of tenants (lots of elderly folks here) and issues with theft. Then throw in some wild water pipe bursts and rampant appliance failure for fun and you’ve got a decent picture of the last 18 months since the apartment building opened. Basically this place is like living in Yuppy Bagdad. I guess there has been speculation that the spirits might be pissed.

Can you see where I am going here? Intellectually I totally respect all religions and belief systems and actually quite identify with the idea of nature worship. The First Nations people were just that, Canada’s first nation. The actual land where I live was very likely the site of or very near an ancient village. Just around the corner is an honest to goddess Indian burial ground/tourist attraction thingy.

***MRTL Style Tangent-you have no idea the true implications of this post for epic personal irony and blistering schadenfreude. For YEARS my friend Pablo and I have joked whenever things go bad in our lives that we must be living on an ancient Indian burial ground. In laughing hysterics, we yell this conclusion to each other after we’ve ranted about the latest fucked up shit we’ve had fall on our respective heads. This concept is loosely based on the whole Poltergeist premise that weird things happen when your subdivision is built upon a defunct gravesite where the developers were too cheap to move the actual bodies. Our theory is that it is clearly only a matter of time before our TVs will swallow us whole and only after serious convincing will we be grudgingly ejected from our closets covered in Jell-O goo. Now factor in that it appears not only do I possibly live on a real motherfucking ancient first nation’s site but that I apparently need to kiss some spiritual ass. It truly doesn’t get any better than this, folks. A cosmic full-circle moment only achieved by the truly cursed. ***End of MRTL Style Tangent.

So this is what I am facing. I want to be supportive of my fellow tenants and help facilitate a positive and happy living situation for everyone. I am also very curious about what this ritual entails. Supposedly if I attend I will receive a personal cleansing package for my suite compliments of White Standing Buffalo, our Ghostbuster. With my health track record I could use all the help I can get. I do like the idea of a ‘house blessing’ and ‘spiritual housekeeping’ of sorts. But…

I truly do not know how I can possibly get through something like this, dignity intact and without offending pretty much everybody. You know the harder you try to contain the giggle the bigger and more uncontrollable the giggle gets? Please don’t make me have to hold anybody’s hands or drum or sing or oh-sweet-lord dance…

Dude. I’d better go clean my closet for when it vomits me out.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Sunday Snooze Report

I've been busy shopping and cleaning and getting ready for my cousin to visit on Monday. She is almost 20 years old so I have to make my pad as cool and groovy as possible. This is no small feat and I am, frankly, exhausted already.

Yes, I know by saying cool and groovy and pad I've just earned all 20 year olds' distain forever. Like, who totally cares?

Yoshi has been helping me out by sleeping the whole weekend and keeping her shedded fur in a small easily contained area. However, she has resorted to some creative coping postures to avoid the pungent stench caused by me scrubbing and wiping with vinegar. My apartment smells like a salad. Environmentally safe for everybody but none too pleasant for sensitive noses.

Regular cute sleeping posture.

Smell avoidance sleeping posture.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Fur Child Jamboree*

Discovered a new game today...

Playing Airplane!

Checking out the horizons. Totally relaxed.

The soles of my feet are still tingling from all the purring.

God, I love my cat. Who needs kids?

* It has been brought to my attention that what I mean to type is Gymboree. As noted above I do not have kids so these errors are practically mandatory.

On Being Cool and Groovy

Me: So how was your day?
Mom: Nothing went right today. I didn't get much done. It was a total fustercluck.
Me: What? Wha...hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaa! *chokes on own spit* Do you mean clusterfuck?
Mom: OH! Um...yeah.
Me: I like your version better.
Mom: Me too.

So from now on 'fustercluck' is an official word to be used by 74 year olds when their day goes to H-E-Double Hockey Sticks.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-On a Cold and Snowy Day

Ok, so it isn't actually snowing today but it did on Tuesday and it is still pretty miserable out. Yoshi is hunkered down in her new snoozen furzen pretty much all the time.

However, she can still manage to look glamorous.

This photo brought to mind a certain film from waaaay back...

Is it Dr. Zhivago?



Or Star Wars?

An Update: In Case You Were Wondering

So Yoshi seems to have bounced back from her tummy bug and is almost back to eating normal amounts. Sadly, my paper towel supply is sorely depleted and my carpet will never be the same again. Thanks for all your get well wishes.

You may have noticed that I twittered that I was off to the cancer clinic for an appointment. I am still going every 3 months for check-ups and so far they seem very happy with my progress. I found out something interesting as far as how they calculate survivorship, though. I’ve been counting my cancer-free status since I got the all-clear pathology test after my mastectomy in Feb. 2006. It turns out they start your cancer free countdown from your very first cancer positive biopsy test. Makes no sense to me but that is how they roll in Cancerland. So according to them I’ve actually been cancer-free (or whatever they call it) for 3 years. I thought it was 2 years next week. Hmmmm…3 years works for me!

Anyway, I think I posted a TMI list a few weeks back stating that Christmas not only brought me yummy food and great gifts but also a very grinchy bowel. I’m still trying to inspire, um, generosity in that area so I’ve been scheduled for a CT scan in a few weeks to check out all those important bits in my tummy. Nobody expects nastiness there (my blood tests came back normal) but once you’ve had cancer these everyday aches and pains cause worry and stress and, very rarely, might mean something more serious. So I have that to look forward to. It means a very early morning, large amounts of water to consume and a lot of waiting around. Well worth the peace of mind.

And thanks for all your good luck wishes to me too. Yoshi and I are so lucky to have you.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Poor Sick Muffin

Laying down funny and favouring her tummy. I wish there was a kitty equivalent to ginger ale.

Poor Yoshi is not feeling well. She stopped eating last night after her 6 pm wet food dinner and barfed a couple times today. She rallied a bit and ate a little wet food for dinner tonight and then promptly yacked it up again. Poor little pooper. But she just ate a little more food a few minutes ago and it seems to be staying down. I hate it when she is sick because she is normally such a healthy cat. Also because she never manages to hurl on the linoleum parts of the apartment. Only on the beige carpet part and exactly where I walk most.

I took her to the vet on Monday for just a check-up. I do that every couple of years to confirm that she is healthy and happy. Since she is going to be 10 years old this March they suggested a geriatric blood panel to look at her function levels. I got a call that I have to bring her in again for a re-check as her kidney functions were a little off. Could be very early kidney issues or just stress. Considering how she tried to climb down the back of my sweater during the exam I am thinking it is probably the stress. However, I think she might have picked up a stomach virus while at the vet. So many germs there. They also shaved half the fur off her neck and chest to take the blood sample so there will be no more costumed photo-shoots for a few weeks until that grows back. It didn't occur to me to mention she is a world famous calendar model.

So poor, poor Yoshi. And poor me as the sole clean-up crew. And poor carpet too.

Addicted to Lube

I've been seeing little blurbs here and there on the internet about people who are desperate for chapped lip relief and pining for their favourite lip balm that always seems to be missing when they need it most.

FYI!

Not all lip balm is created equal.

Over the years working as a film costumer I've spent a lot of time in the company of make-up artists and I've gleaned a lot of very interesting and helpful information about skin care products and the like. Industry secrets, so to speak.

For instance:

-do not spend a fortune on face cleansers-Cetaphil is simply superior to most fancy skin products. It is non-allergenic and fragrance free and super gentle. And fairly inexpensive. AND available in bulk at Costco.

-I've discovered that most make-up artists use Maybelline's Great Lash Mascara. Not some super fancy brand. I've occasionally seen an actress insist on Lancome or Dior but even the most fancy of actresses know that Great Lash is a great mascara. Soft black seems to be the colour make-up artists use the most. And it costs well under $10. Which is good when you should be replacing your old germy container every few months.

But the greatest cosmetic swindle I learned about is lip balm. Here is the thing, any lip care product that contains menthol is DRYING! In effect it makes your lips feel cooler (and less painful) in the short term but actually makes you dependant on the product overall. What happens with products that either cool or warm your skin (lip balm, sore muscle rub etc.) is they only override your nerve endings which distracts them from sending pain signals to your brain. The cooling/warming confuses your pain receptors for a short time.

So lip balm like Carmex, Burt's Bees and others that contain menthol (or feel cool on your lips when applied) just dry out your lips and make things worse. In effect you become addicted to them for the temporary cooling sensation they provide and the whole time they make your lips dryer and more painful.

So what could you use instead?

Petroleum jelly based products like Vaseline, Labello (what I use) and others that make your lips feel coated and slippery BUT NOT COOL!

So there you go. I never thought I'd ever write a beauty post but I thought I'd pass on the lube to you.