Shiny

After multiple calls to the insurance company, visits to practically every dealer in town, test drive after test drive and perusal of far too many brochures and web-sites, I am happy to announce the arrival of Grant's new baby.



Not our actual vehicle, but just as purty!

Johari me, please

'Cuz all the cool kids are doin' it!

Dear Car Manufacturers

You could really expedite this whole making-a-decision-which-car-to-buy if one of your cars had a dock for our iPod.

love,
Allison

My sweety

Five years ago today, it was a cold, snowy day and I married the man I had been looking for my entire life.

My husband is my friend and my lover. I know that I can count on him to support me, to defend me and to always love me. He makes me feel beautiful and sexy. He makes me laugh and nearly never makes me cry. He tells me all about his day and listens when I talk about mine. We often have the same thought at the same time; when one of us says it aloud, the other marvels "I was just going to say that!"

Yeah, marvel is a good word. My marriage is an on-going marvel to me. The companionship I share with this man I met on the internet has transcended any expectations I had. Turning my life upside down to be with him has made my life come right side up.

I love you, sweety!

Adventures with hairspray

For those of you who don't already know this: I generally keep my hair quite short. I like it short and spiky or sleek and elegant. When it gets too long, it gets kind of limp. I try to avoid that stage, except that I am terrible about making appointments with my stylist. And to make it worse, in the last year, my hair has grown exceptionally quickly, which means my usual 6-8 week cycle pick up the phone to make an appointment just isn't cutting it anymore.

Hee. I made myself snicker there.

Anyway, my hair is very long right now, I haven't had time to schedule a cut and we are going out tonight. Which means only one thing is possible.

Yes, tonight I have BIG HAIR.

Cindy and Marsh would be so proud.

The shame of it all

I am reduced to stealing food from my stepkid.

On Saturday I was helping Grant replace the bathroom ceiling fan thingy. The helping that involves go-fer-ing and the handing up of tools. But I started feeling kinda lightheaded, because, been sick and all that, you know. Anyway, stopping to eat something while my husband is cursing up a blue streak at a very stubborn home project was not exactly in the cards, until I went downstairs to fetch some duct tape and spied the Costco box of goodies Tom had bought. Specifically, I spied a granola bar. I grabbed it and sereptitiously surruptitiously sneakily devoured it between screwdriver changes.

Today, I got home from work absolutely dying for some ramen noodles. Downstairs to check the box, where voila! a small case of Mr. Noodles doth reside. I took one. I may take another, later.

Hey! We don't charge him rent, you know.

Paradox

There are many good things about living 3,000 miles away from your mother, especially when your relationship has always been rocky at best. I truly, without irony or sarcasm, believe this separation has done wonders for our relationship. But there are times when I wish we weren't quite so far away.

My mom and dad are 83 and 82 respectively, and the last time they came to visit it was very difficult for them. The travelling was not pleasant, even when Air Canada provided a wheelchair. Once they arrived, there were adjustments, some successful, some not so much. And yes, when my mother comes to stay there is always the possibility of some serious fireworks. And tears. Have I mentioned the tears?

And yet.

When I spend time with my husband on Georgian Bay, one of the things that I cannot get away from is how much my mother would love it. The scenery. The wildlife. The simple beauty of it all. She would adore it as much as the daughter she raised to appreciate those kinds of things does. And not being able to share it with her is hard.

The truth is: I want my mother to appreciate the life I have found. There has always been so much criticism, but now I know she would love who I am and where I am. I wish she was here.

The price of low insurance?

For those of you who might be wondering what is happening on the new car front: we are STILL WAITING for the insurance company to tell us what our compensation will be. It has been three weeks since our accident. The limit on our rental car will most likely be reached tomorrow. The woman at the insurance company has told us not to worry about that, but we still worry.

We have decided on the Jetta, but the best case scenario (they have the car we want in stock) is 2 days delivery. The next option (they find it at another dealer) is 4-5 days. The worst is we have to wait up to 4 weeks.

We have reported everything promptly and completely. We have checked in on a regular basis to see if they have everything they need. They have been promising us a number for over a week, a number that might be significantly lower than we think we should get, which would mean further negotiation.

We are annoyed.

How organic is that?

I just polished off a bowl of edamame. Now I am drinking Tazo Green Ginger tea and listening to the Indigo Girls.

Too bad it's too cold to wear my Birkenstocks...

Of course I am. yup.

My tiebreaker was between being a strong leader and being loud and obnoxious.

Guess which one I chose?

You scored as Oboe. Oboe. You're an oboe. yup. Bassoon 92% Oboe 92% French Horn 83% Cello 83% Trumpet 75% trombone 58% Violin 58% Flute 58% Clarinet 50% Tuba 42% String Bass 33% Viola 17% Percussion 8% If you were in an orchestra, what instrument would match your personality? created with QuizFarm.com

Sick and tired

I am both. Plus I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I have had a case of laryngitis for approximately 2 months now. It faded somewhat while I was in Mexico, but I think that was simply because I wasn't talking much. I had a physical just before leaving for holiday, so I seriously doubt there is anything really wrong, but I just can't seem to get healthy!

Second term reports are due at the end of the month and I am ridiculously behind in my marking, mainly because I am too exhausted at the end of the day to focus on my students' work. But I am setting myself up for some marathon marking sessions, and quite honestly, I am not sure I have the energy.

Can someone tell the 649 people that I am ready for my big win now?

Another soundtrack

I am on a lonely road and I am traveling
Traveling, traveling, traveling
Looking for something, what can it be
Oh I hate you some, I hate you some
I love you some
Oh I love you when I forget about me

Listening to Blue by Joni Mitchell takes me back to my dorm room at College 5 at UC Santa Cruz. That was before our college was mature enough to actually have its very own name and not just a number. My solo dorm room was one of the top floor rooms, with vaulted (albeit cement) ceilings and some enterprising student had built some bookcases into the wall. My room didn't feature the (entirely illegal) loft of my freshman year, but it was cozy and had a lovely view of our woods-covered campus.

Deborah Barker introduced me to Blue and Constant Comet tea. We would sit in her dorm room, listening to Joni and savagely criticize other people. Deborah also dragged me to the local Arty cinema to see The Children of Paradise and nodded sagely when I sobbed all the way back to the campus.

Most people called her Debby; I was the only one who could call her Deborah and get away with it. I always liked calling people by their complete names rather than nicknames, and Deborah thought her name sounded "different" when I said it.

Deborah was there when I made my feeble attempt at suicide; in fact, our relationship was a major factor in my depression. Her anger at me, and mine at her proved too strong for our friendship to endure and we parted. We would encounter each other in the halls and pathways around the Arts buildings; it was just like meeting up with an ex-boyfriend. Somewhere in my correspondance box from that time is a bitter and very long letter she sent me. Romantic breakups have never had quite the same passion as Deborah's and my breakup.

After I left UCSC, I got a letter from her. It was a strange letter, almost as if none of the things that had passed had actually occurred. We got together a few times and it was almost like before. Except it wasn't.

I haven't seen or heard of her in more than twenty years, but she does linger. Especially when there's a mug of tea at my elbow and Joni Mitchell's voice soars.

All I really really want our love to do
Is to bring out the best in me and in you too
All I really really want our love to do
Is to bring out the best in me and in you

Anniversary

A year ago, Grant and I started the South Beach diet. For one year, we have successfully eaten our way to several pounds lighter. I am currently hovering between 136- 140 lbs, which everyone in my life assures me is just right.

Losing weight has made me a bit more obssessive about my body than I necessarily like. I suspect that some of it has to do with the aging process, as well. That, and watching too much Nip/Tuck. But for the first time in my life, I actually begin to understand why women choose plastic surgery. You stare at those bulges on your thighs that just never seem to go away, eye that loose bit of skin around your middle and wonder why the first thing you lose is that lovely bit of fat that actually gave you cleavage for a period of time. The perfect bodies assault your senses on every television and movie screen and you wonder "How can I get that, too?"

Don't worry, I am not having surgery. I have started a Pilates class and I am trying to get myself into a bit of a workout routine at home. I know that I can tighten up some of these loose bits and that I really don't need to lose any more weight. I don't like it when women of "certain age" get too thin and start to look haggard.

So, I am ready to start the maintenance of my new weight. That's good, because part of me is sick to death of dieting. Still, in many ways, coming off the diet is more stressful than going on it was. There is a fear that I will slip up terribly and suddenly find myself with 30 or more pounds back on. But I tell myself that won't happen, because I know what to eat and how to manage my weight in a healthy way. Plus I have extra motivation: I sure don't want to find that by the time summer rolls around, I won't fit in the new bikini I bought a few weeks ago!