...and the pendulum swings

I go to bed tonight feeling much better than after my last post.
I pulled off a surprise birthday party for Janius today that was every bit a success. Making other people happy makes me so happy. 6 others ended up coming! The stress was all for nought.
The guy called. It's all good, until my stomach starts eating my innards again. Argh, external validation, why are you so fickle?
Rob gets added to my list of awesome emails from afar.
I'm going to learn how to ice climb!
I napped. i love naps. Even when you get woken by 5 phonecalls in an hour and a half. I can be a dedicated napper.
I'm at the 9.5 pound mark in my 10-lb book about Enron. Scary that i'm reading it but as in happens quite interesting. There are some great lines too, like when the CEO calls someone "asshole" in a press conference. The whole company is now unraveling before my eyes quite deliciously.
Martha Wainwright is still totally cool.

argh

Okay, I'm blogging out my bile of confusion. Here's what's up.
I spent a saturday night at work. (I'm still not sure that i got enough done for monday, although i definitely feel better. I swear this has to be the last weekend I work in 2006.)
I ruined an awesome christmas gift: gloves that i got ink on.
I'm tired, still a little sick, and I woke up feeling a bit blah today.
New Year's guy is going nowhere fast. So of course my mind is in full-throttle hindsight and self-recrimination gear.
I'm stressed out about some plans I'm making.
And almost as an aside, but of course, most fundamentally: I got an email today that a guy I went on a canoe trip on in September, not even 4 months ago, is dead. He had terrible stomach aches for months, and it turns out it was pancreatic cancer (new and fast-acting). He was like 32, and a great guy. I spent 2 hours loading his canoe on my car, not even 1/3 of a year ago with him.

Now to count my blessings today. deep breath.
- Matt (my friend, not my boss) called from London this morning. fabulous to talk with him. even more fabulous to civilly chat with him about things we feel violently oppositely about.
- last night's dinner for Janius' birthday was very fun. 8 people out in Ville-St-Laurent for sushi
- the last moments of last night involved laughing so hard I could barely breath about "lack of ram", with mira and janius
- i'm getting emails all over the place from awesome people (like erin & kaisa!)
- yesterday it was sunny and above freezing. I walked into work, it was amazing.
- also yesterday: a donut named Joe showed up at work. swear to god. It was a sign.
- i went for a brief run this afternoon in the balmy air and god, it made me happy.

required viewing

"We're about to taken to a dreamworld of magic!"
If you haven't seen this yet (erin!), go to google, type "Lazy Sunday", then hit "I'm feeling lucky". This video rocks.

thursday update

"you say that my time here has been some sort of a joke... some sort of incubating period for when i really come around"

I stayed home sick today. My intestines are not having fun, but I'm alright. I went to the Martha Wainwright concert last night, which totally rocked. I rocked out, gently, and totally wanted to be her. Crazy-ass cool woman, who can sing the blues or les chansons or rock'n'roll. (And she's 29. this is getting scary.)

I just turned down a thinly-disguised booty call. Seriously, don't guys know?! An invitation to come over and watch a movie is not that mysterious. And just presently i was feeling like a dork. So the very consoling track I'm playing is Martha's "Bloody Mother F***ing A**hole" song. Yep, that's what it's called.

Monday, I went to the gym and re-arranged my furniture. On Tuesday, I sent off my guilty plea for my speeding ticket, and found some awesome lingerie. I feel so productive. Tomorrow I'm going to buy an iPod (for someone else) and go to a birthday sushi dinner.

Damn, the American version of The Office is really funny.

war on diabetes

The New York Times is running a series of articles on Diabetes in New York.   Yesterday's article opens:

Begin on the sixth floor, third room from the end, swathed in fluorescence: a 60-year-old woman was having two toes sawed off.

They should totally put that advisory on Twinkie packaging.

Today's article begins:

Santos Alicea tottered haltingly over to the art shop in East Harlem, his legs screaming.

It looks like the Times is taking media activism to a new, un-subtle level.

miscellanea

I am stretched and supple in all kinds of directions after a kick-ass weekend. xc skiing, climbing, snowboarding and yoga. How often do I catch some Bollywood and some Hong Kong mafia action in the same weekend.
A 9-person sit-down potluck of Indian food capped if off most sweetly on Sunday night at Mike's. I love sit-down dinners and communal cooking. I left a few hours later after watching the opening numbers of Aishwarya Rai's latest dvd.
And I've started going back to the gym (yay). I've run into my neighbour Ali twice while there, which I'm thankful for, since ab exercises are so much more tolerable if you can giggle through them.

it's raining, i think

2006 is giving me a lot of love right now.

The guy from New Year's actually called. Hmm, interesting. and stomach-churning.

I ran into a guy I went on a few dates with in the fall at the gym (ha!), and we went for a pint. Very fun, at last. =) He still likes me, but I think he knows he missed his chance.

And then... I was in the Bay today... looking my schleppiest with my Dr. Seuss sweater, hiking boots and uncombed hair, and I get picked up by these 2 cute French guys. (As in frOncais, you just know they will laugh like "on-hon-hon-hon".) I figured why not, so we exchanged numbers. I guess that's the killer secret of the discount lingerie department: it's small enough that there are men around, who will notice you're shopping for lingerie. There's a tip for 2006, gals.

I guess it's the glow. The glow gets 'em every time. Let's see if glow begets more glow.

the killers, again

Okay, i'm pretty much sick of their Hot Fuss album, but dammit, they're so sweet. In keeping with the usual post-Christmas syndromes: it makes my teeth hurt and I feel guilty.

Erin makes a good point about their reproductive capabilities/availabilities. My coworker told me last week that the lead singer (who by the law of band dynamics and sexual selection must be the hottest) is newly married and a Mormon. That's two, probably three strikes against him.
So in a way my theory was proved right. Sorry Erin, but hey, if you're like me, Mormons are pretty high on my list of things that are easy to not pine for. Or stop fantasizing about.

...which reminds me of the encounter I had in a Berlin hostel with two Americans (we were equal strangers) a few years ago. The "where are you from" conversation led to a furtive exchange of coded signals. One Coloradan asked the other "Are you LDS?" The other literally cast his eyes downwards and mumbled "yeah" and quickly changed the subject. I exchanged glances with the Canadian friend I was travelling with, and we backed off, presuming it was an STD. But no, LDS means Mormon.

So, my mildly dyslexic friends, take care -- make sure you know next time whether you're being offered acid or salvation.

New Year's, not New York

So after a big kerfuffle of stress, I didn't end up in New York for New Year's.

So I ended up going to the party I say I'm "always" at for New Years, namely wherever Sam Sewall is at, at this loft above Le Swimming. Last year it was a surprisingly good time, since it turned out that all the people I knew in the city were also at that party. Same thing this year. Much fun, especially with April and Emily. I hooked up with this hot doctor (I know i normally say they're hot, but this one was. Ask Apes.), and ended up leaving the party just before 4. Fighting up St-Laurent at that hour, it felt so good, almost smug, to have been at a private party and not just looking for fun among the clubs.

I walked home this morning the long way, with a big smile on my face. I love being out and about when the year is so fresh, so soft, doughy and tender. It's snowing big fat flakes, of the softest kind. What a beautiful start.

New concept for the night, maybe for the year: Baraka.
Hell yeah, 2006 is going to be good. (I know I said that about 2005, and it was.)