Hair

The last time that Dad was up, one of the first things he said to me was, "Your hair is getting long!" Was it? I hadn't really noticed, but I suppose you don't when you live with it every day. But comparing it now to the "engagement" picture, yeah, it's a ton longer. So today, I'm going to get it cut (and highlighted again). But I don't want it to be too much shorter. To be honest, I like it long, and the longer, the better. I still remember the "afro" years. I mean, it had to be done. My hair was so fried, and really needed a good long time to recover, restabilize, and decide it really did want to be ringlettey, even at a good length, before growing it out. As much as those years were good for my hair, they were horrid for my self-esteem. My boyfriend at the time took one look at my new hairstyle and said he preferred it long (he hadn't yet joined The Brotherhood, and I hold out serious doubts that he ever will). I spent the better part of high school ignoring calls of "Pat! Hey Pat!" and was confused until I found out exactly who/what they were referring to. After that, it was extremely destructive, and to this day, I am appalled by the meanness of children (and yes, I include people in high-school in the "child" category). There were some "fun" moments, like on the band trip in the Bahamas when people amused themselves on a bus ride by seeing if they could lose pens in it, but oh well. When I started Uni, I decided to grow it out, and thought it took several years to reach a good length, and then a few more before I discovered that salon products really are better for my hair and allow it to grow more before frying, I much prefer it this way. I've even learned to wear my hair down all the time.

There are things I wish I could change. I wish I could knit myself this, but I know what it'd look like. I'd either have to tuck all my hair underneath it and look like I have a very oddly-shaped skull, or my hair would stick out horizontally from underneath it and I'd have to wear it to bed because there's no darn way I'd take that off in front of a living soul before I go in the shower the next morning. Even Mike. I'd also like it if it didn't clog the shower drain, wrap itself around the brush on the power head, or basically didn't make me feel so much like a DLH dog or cat when I'm sweeping/vacuuming/looking at the shirts and jackets I wear a lot. I mean, I shed. A lot. You wouldn't think it by how thick my hair still is, but I do. And I wish I didn't look like a complete ditz playing with my hair, because it's so much fun to play with. :) Ringlets FTW.

So today, cut and highlights, complete with hopefully a band and a half of the Slytherin scarf (damnit, it's going to get done...), 'cause highlights take forever. And if I tell her that I'm pretty much going straight home to bed, she might not do it up too much either. I guess I'm not the only one that likes playing with my hair.

What's new?

Once again, I see a dearth of new content in my favourite blogs. Oh, Gill keeps posting things, but more and more I just want to give her a great big hug and forward her job ads that I get via the sport contacts I have up here... And the Yarn Harlot is always posting about something new, and last week was filled with hilarious server issues ("SMACK MY SERVER!" I can totally relate to that!). But I am not sure what's going on with some of my favourite people, and I really should probably be emailing them and letting them know I'm thinking about them rather than posting something in the slim hope of guilting them into a new post.

What's new in St. Albert? I'm still having trouble arranging the sideboard with only one fish-tank, but I'm not so sad anymore. Dad helped us get the doors off of the useless closet, so now we're figuring out what to do with it. Right now there's one bookcase and one CD case in there, but it needs some paint and a piece of wood, so true arranging probably won't happen until over the Christmas break. Speaking of Christmas, I'm finally starting my Christmas shopping! I should really be starting on the cards and letters, but I think starting the shopping first is okay. I will also try to burn through the rest of the Sarah Keels baby blanket this weekend, as I'm on to the decreasing stage! Oh, and I got my Ravelry invitation, which is totally nifty.

Oh, and I am waiting for snow. The middle of November, and we've had barely a skiff thus far, and the biggest one only stuck around for two days. When it comes, I'm sure we'll get hit hard, but until then, I'm just waiting. I kind of miss it, but I'm glad I don't have to wear my winter jacket yet. Mostly because it's old and needs to be replaced... :)

Open the cookie, and...

Whenever you order Chinese takeout, they give you fortune cookies. Well, Mike and I never eat them. But we save them. Or we did, until a little while ago. By that time, we'd amassed so many of them, they were taking up way too much room. So we broke them all open. There was not one double in the 40 fortunes that we should have read over the past year. Here are some of my favourites.

We must always have old memories and young hopes.
Today is a good day for being with a companion.
Next week, your luck color will be green!
Speak less of your plans - you will get more of them done.
Friends long absent are coming back to you.
You have a charming way with words. Write a letter this week.
Seek out the significance of your problem at this time. Try to understand.
A good movie will inspire you to reach for the stars.
You will make many changes before settling satisfactorily.
Take full responsibility for your indulgences.
You tune in intuitively to people and situations immediately and intensely.
You will always live in interesting times.
Your home is a pleasant place from which you will draw happiness.
You will be honored with a prestigious prize or reward.
Tomorrow your creative side will shine forth with exceptional ideas.

And my personal favourite:

Go ahead and be as sexy as you can.

Mike Guest-posts: Today...

Today marks a sad day in our house hold, as we have lost a very close and dear friend to us.

Ducati

They say that all beta's have a personality, and I think that's totally true. Ducati was really the first thing that belonged to both V and I. I'll always remember him for being the calm one, no matter how much his little cup moved on the way home that little guy was so relaxed. He was with us almost 3 years but we are glad he's not suffering anymore. We'll miss you Ducati, have fun with Ferrari....

Love,

Mike

No tears

It was an amazing, profound experience. This morning, I got my blood taken without a panic attack.

It even took two tries: one in my right arm, and then a successful one in my left hand, after digging for it just a little bit. But through it all, my heart rate was only slightly elevated, I wasn't reduced to tears or biting hard on my fingers to stay in control, and all I did was avoid the chair and be careful that I didn't smell the alcohol. At the end, I got up, gathered my things, and calmly walked out, patently amazed that no one in the waiting room would be able to tell that even last year, I would have been walking out a complete wreck.

Is it a one-time thing? Is there a switch in my head that went off, saying, "You're 30 now; 25 years of that is enough"? Was it because it was first thing in the morning? I don't know, and I don't particularly care. I'm just glad. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable enough for the chairs, but the nurses said not to even try, then, that it was fine to ask to lay down if that's what helped. But if I can do this without panic, that would be wonderful.

Facade

There have been some changes in the building I work in. The meeting rooms have been upgraded with LCD screens and "new" furniture (used, but surplused from places that are higher on the totem pole that we are). New storage areas have been created. The fitness centre has some new equipment. An LCD panel above the reception area announces the events of the day. The elevators have received a spiffy new coat of paint. There are new industrial-strength electronic air fresheners in all the bathrooms. Who knows what tomorrow has in store?

I look on all of this, however, with a large amount of cynicism. This building is old. What good is an industrial strength air freshener when the toilets don't flush properly? It covers up the smell of remaining waste products, but doesn't solve the underlying problem. Yes, the paint makes the elevators look nice, but doesn't solve the issue of missing floor indicators, open and close buttons that may or may not work, or the obviously original sign telling people how to use the emergency phone. And the upgrades? It might as well be a sixty-year-old woman wearing a Bratz T-shirt. Do we care about LCD panels when we have to wear long-johns to work just to stay warm, inside the building?

But if I had to be perfectly honest, probably the reason for my cynicism is more personal than the fact that I think they should be fixing the plumbing and heating before putting in gadgets.

This past Saturday marked week 52 of my weight goal tracking. Those who maybe have been following the tracking may have noticed that I haven't updated it in a good long while. There is a reason for that. There is nothing to report. My completely attainable goal of 30 pounds in 52 weeks... proved to be completely unattainable. Completely. I don't even need to weigh myself to tell you that. The good look I got of myself in the mirror on Sunday saves me the trouble. There has been no change in my overall mass in 52 weeks.

That's not to say there haven't been changes. Before nearly completely giving up on my gym, I was able to do 45 minutes on the elliptical trainer, and probably could have gone longer. Even when I was fencing, I could barely manage 10 minutes. Pilates, when I was in those classes, really made a difference on how my back felt. I wouldn't say the pain and tension went away completely, but I really felt like it eased a bit as the muscles moved and strengthened. After a year, I think I have a tiny bit more energy. Not a lot, but enough that I notice most days.

But no change in my weight is a hard one to come to grips with. It feels like the changes above are like the LCD panels, the air fresheners, and the new coat of paint. Facade changes. Surface changes. Not fixing the underlying problem. And with my still tenuous self-esteem, naturally I focus on the negative rather than the positive. Sorry, Mike.

There are new changes on the horizon for us. Once Christmas is behind us, Mike and I are planning to take out memberships at the leisure centre in St. Albert and work out together at least once a week. I am also going to try to avail myself of their pilates classes. I have taken courses in nutrition and am in contact with a nutritionist, so changes in the way I eat are taking and will take place. But I know that my sister is right; I need to accept that I am the way I am at this moment, and like it. Love it, in fact. But a year of efforts--some aborted, I will admit, but efforts nonetheless--with no discernible effect make that particularly difficult this week.

Especially when I see the paint every time I step in the elevator.

Darn

I just got a work email from the Edmonton Sport Council, and what leaps out at me? Capital Region Archery Club Programs.

Ooo! thinks my brain.

Wait a second, say my arms.

*sigh* Must find a sport that works for both.

Where have alllllllll the trick-or-treaters gooooooonnnne...

I was singing that in my head last night as I sat reading my book, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

We live five minutes' walk from an elementary school, and even the local junior high is not far away. How many trick-or-treaters did we have last night? Sixteen. Great. Now I have to eat all the leftover candy!

Granted, there were a couple of cute ones. Like the two year old dressed as a giraffe who was already on her way to the next house by the time I got to the door. And the little four year old who, upon her dad's encouragement to say "Trick or treat," looked up at me and said very clearly, "TREAT!" And the weather was nice, and every single child who came to the door was dressed up in a fairly extensive costume.

But sixteen. Only sixteen.

Note to self: only buy two bags of candy next year.

In other news, Mike and I had a fabulous time in Drumheller. Pics are up at Picasa, and the Reptile World pictures are in a separate album for anyone with snake or lizard issues, but Mike has asked me to let you know that if you skip that album, you're missing pictures of the highlight of his trip: holding a lovely boa constrictor named Brittany. Even I have to admit, she is lovely. I petted her. No, I didn't hold her. For me, the highlight of the trip is less easy to pinpoint. If I had to pick three, they would be the Horse Thief Canyon lookout, playing with the mini-tripod, and having Mike go to bed at the same time as me. I know those are odd things to pick out, but there they are. Now it's back to the grind. Wake me when it's Christmas...