This day is not going well.

May 27th, 2010 No Comments

So, last night, I had a wicked sinus headache. I either get spring allergies, or sinus headaches when it rains, I’m not sure which. Possibly both. Either way, they feel the same, and often turn into migraines. Hooray.

So this morning, shockingly enough, I woke up with a migraine. Crapmonkey, I can’t afford to miss work, but … well, there is death in my skull.

Whatever, curled up with the dog and slept. Had managed to wake up and was trying to convince myself that I could go into work, and … the building fire alarm goes off.

Okay, so I’ve lived in apartments of some sort pretty much all of my adult life. There were a few houses in there, but mostly apartments. Plus, I’ve always worked in office buildings. So I’ve heard my fair share of building fire alarms. None of them — NONE OF THEM — were anywhere NEAR on par with the sheer horribleness of the sound of this alarm.

I admit: I’m a “wait til I smell smoke” kind of fire alarm girl. I’ll keep an eye on the situation, poke my head out into the hallway, and look out the window. But especially when I lived on the 9th floor… eh, I’m not really into trucking all the way down if I don’t have to.

So I wouldn’t be surprised if this particular alarm was designed to stop people like me, because JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT NOISE. I already felt like I had skewers sticking into my temple, that alarm turned them into BLUNT SPOONS DIGGING INTO MY SKULL.

And of course, it’s not just me: Justice is home with me, of course. Justice, the dog who is wigged out by odd sounds. Justice, the dog who has a panic attack at the garbage truck. Justice was not pleased with this noise. AT ALL.

Ok, so we’ve got: Migrainey Donna, Terrified Dog, and WORST ALARM EVER. Yes, okay, I get it — we’re going outside. With the rest of my neighbours. And their dogs. Effing hell. Well, still better to be outside than in. Just to be safe, because there was a good chance we’d have to pass very close to another dog, I muzzled her up. This isn’t something we usually do, because she’s very, very manageable under normal circumstances. I only ever use the muzzle when going to the vet these days.

Yeah, this is not one of those normal circumstances, muzzle it is. Luckily, we were able to duck across the street pretty away from the 20 or so dogs in front of the building. Justice was displeased.

Sure enough, nothing terrible. Fire truck showed up, alarm was turned off, and we trotted back inside. I poked my head out to see if I could find out what was going on, but the best I’ve got is “false alarm”. Awesome.

The result of said adventure is that I feel like I’m going to die, and the slowly fading migraine is RIGHT BACK WITH A FUCKING VENGEANCE.

I’m going to go pretend I don’t exist now.

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A wee bit of soapy fundraising

May 26th, 2010 1 Comment
Breast Cancer Soaps

 

These just got unmolded tonight. They’re my first round of breast cancer soaps! Colored with french pink clay and red morrocan clay, these soaps are great for your skin (excellent facial soaps for oily skin!) and smell delicious.

These are my breast cancer soaps. All proceeds from breast cancer soaps now and in the future (they’ll be the ones with the embossed ribbons) will be donated to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. They won’t be ready to go for a few more weeks, but they’ll be ready in time for the Blim Community Market at Car Free Day!

I’m very pleased with how they came out, and can’t wait to try them!

Single Breast Cancer Soap

 

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i’ve already spent too much time doing things i didn’t want to

May 23rd, 2010 1 Comment

when i was 17 i was a blowjob queen
picking up tips from the masters
i was so busy perfecting my art i was clueless to what they were after
now i’m still a blowjob queen (far more selectively)
i don’t make love now to make people love me
but i don’t mind sharing my gift with the planet
we’re all gonna die and a blowjob’s fantastic

And you wonder why I love Amanda Palmer so much.

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Thundershirt: A review!

May 20th, 2010 8 Comments

My review isn’t nearly as funny as this one, so you should just go read that. But I’ll add my voice to the “Huh, this actually seems to work.”

The above link is actually where I first heard about Thundershirts — I’m in the same community as the above poster when she asked for referrals for it, and the response was pretty positive. It’s based on the same premise as weight blankets and hug machines for autistic kids, squeeze chutes for cattle, the Tellington TTouch, and a variety of research by Temple Grandin. And, because even though it seems odd, it makes sense to me. I like the lead apron at the dentists office. The weighted feeling feels nice. I like having 2-3 blankets piled on me when I sleep, not just because I get cold (although that’s a part of it) but because the weight feels nice.

So. I don’t know why it works, but I at least sort of get it. Anyway, the first link up there, with the review of Sodai’s reaction to the Thundershirt, I decided it was worth the cost — especially since, thanks to Phantom Publishing (thanks you, Nicole!), I was able to find someone who would ship it to Canada without charging almost me as much as the shirt itself.

Still, it feels a bit ridiculous. What, a grey Star Trek uniform shirt is going to calm my dog down? Right. Sodai’s owner is right on with the uniform comparison — I half expect her to perform the Picard Maneuver as soon as I put it on. Er, the one listed under “Background” on that page, not the bit about warping.

But hey, in my quest to soothe the anxious beast, I’ll try just about anything.

Justice does not care for fashion.

We didn’t have quite the same reaction as Sodai. Justice did not immediately roll over and transform into a stoner. I purposely made sure she stayed calm & low key — no playing in the Thundershirt, I want this thing associated with being calm and laid back as much as humanly possible. Because she alert barks about weird noises, I also didn’t want her wearing it any time I couldn’t immediately pop up and soothe her back down (she’ll calm down right away if I can stand up and talk to her for a few seconds, but if I’m say… playing warcraft in the middle of a boss fight, or at a soapmaking spot where if I stop, I’ll ruin the entire batch, it’s not ideal.)

So we’ve only tried it out a few times. And initially, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I only had her wearing it in situations where she’s already fairly calm, so it was hard to see any result. And that’s fine, I don’t want to REALLY test it until she’s comfortable with it and associating it with not flipping out. So far so good. She seems pretty okay with it. I was almost considering taking her to the vet in it, but I really want to work up to high-omg-crazy anxiety situations with it.

I put it on her today while we were sitting around at home making sure that she didn’t have any adverse reaction to her new meds. Before I put it on, she was alert barking every few minutes at Every Little Noise, and generally driving me up the wall. In fact, it was half the reason I put it on her, just on the off chance she would jesus christ dog, shut up, even a little.

Aside from a couple of minor growfs… she didn’t bark once the entire time it was on (about an hour and a half). Holy crap.

I thought maybe it was a fluke and maybe it was just super quiet (in the middle of the day in my building? right — we have cement walls and *I* can’t hear much, but she sure can) and as I was getting ready to go into work, I took it off. Immediately back to alert barking at Every. Stupid. Noise. I don’t mind alert barking when there’s something to alert to — like, someone coming in the door, or very loud noises. But little tiny day to day noises like OTHER PEOPLE DARING TO EXIST WITHIN AMAZING DOG HEARING EARSHOT? Shut up, dog.

Well, huh. So far, this looks positive. I’m planning to escalate the use of Thundershirt with “things that make her anxious” and see if it helps. Admittedly, with us starting the anti-anxiety meds at the same time, it’ll be hard to see what’s helping, but this isn’t really a scientific study… this is “how do I help my dog not to see the world as evil” and “what works for us.” So far, I’m impressed.

Also, thank god, Justice is super thin… and has no love handles with it on. (Sorry, Sodai! Your muffin-top is very pretty…)

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Sometimes I just want to put on my bunny suit and scream

May 20th, 2010 6 Comments

I get the feeling that the above subject is how Justice feels a good deal of the time.

So, we all know this, I have a dog with a crazy amount of anxiety. This expresses itself in leash reactivity, mostly toward dogs, and taking “normal moments that are a bit anxiety-ridden” and turning them into huge scary productions.

Case in point: The vet. The vet is a scary place for ANY dog. It’s full of other scared dog smells, weird smells, strange people… you get poked and prodded by a stranger, things get stuck up your butt, you can often hear other dogs crying, whimpering, barking, they occasionally put needles in you…

Now take a dog who goes to pieces when there’s a piece of trash in the street where there SHOULD BE NO TRASH, MUM WHAT IS THAT THERE WAS NO TRASH THERE THIS MORNING WHY IS THAT THERE IS IT GOING TO EAT ME? …and you have a recipe for disaster.

I love my dog. And 90% of the time, she’s fantastic. She’s great indoors, albeit a bit of an alert-barker. She’s generally good off-leash with dogs her size or bigger (although lately a bit iffy with smaller dogs), FABULOUS with puppies, playful, energetic, funny, ridiculously smart, eager to please, lovable, cuddly, sweet… and honestly just an absolute joy to have around. I wouldn’t trade her for the world.

But oh god, the anxiety. Half the time I want to sell her to the gypsies, the other half I want to just sit down and cry because she’s so. freaking. scared. of. everything.

She makes incredible leaps & bounds all the time — her focus is improving, her rally classes are going great — heck, before the vet came into the office, we went through half a dozen of the more “difficult” rally commands, and she was perfect: attentive, focused, high energy, and grinning like a fool.

And then the vet came in. And jesus christ on toast. I’ve never seen her so scared. She was hiding behind the chair, ran away frightened every time the vet made eye contact (and Justice has a minor eye infection, so … y’know, looking at the eye? A good thing.) She was WAY more skittish, terrified, obstinate, and just plain anxious than I’ve seen her in a long time. Poor kid. The vet was great, trying not to startle her, using a low soothing voice, when she had to touch her, being super gentle and letting Justice come to her… yeah, no dice, dog was off the scale anxiety-wise. She’d come over to me every few minutes and sit for a treat, then go back to stress sniffing and hiding.

I go to Vancouver Animal Wellness, because I’m a LITTLE touchy feely with my preferred medical care for Justice. For example, we don’t vaccinate yearly, we get titre testing every 1-2 years instead. I don’t like to jump straight to pills as the first answer, and I’m not adverse to trying less invasive methods first. I really, really like Vancouver Animal Wellness for this — I feel like meds are a last resort, but one that we’ll take if it’s necessary.

When it comes down to it, if meds are what is needed, meds are what I’ll go for.

Even moreso than the stigma against humans using anti-depressants is pets on anti-depressants. What, your dog won’t stop barking long enough for you to get your latte? Drug ‘em to the gills, right?

Yeah, well. I’ve put a LOT of work into Justice. And anyone who’s known her for a few years tends to tell me how amazed they are at how far she’s come. Which is good, because often all I see are her issues. And I love her to pieces — I don’t see this as HER failing, I see this as MY failing. It’s my job to help her cope, right? And if she’s not coping… then this is on me.

Annoyingly it seems that most people agree, when I get the stinkeye for having the fearful/reactive dog. I hide behind the “She’s a rescue” label, but I still feel incredible guilt that with all the hard work I’ve put into her so far… it still hasn’t been enough. It can’t be enough, because if it was enough, she wouldn’t panic at the sight of other dogs. It may never be enough. I dunno. And I fully accept that… when you have a reactive dog, you ALWAYS have a reactive dog. I just want her to learn better coping skills and stop being so damn wigged out all the time.

Seriously, how much fun can it be that every time you go outside into the big bad world, you’re afraid of EVERYTHING? Good god, I have an agoraphobic dog. Well, not really — she can relax when she’s outside, she loves to roll in the grass, run around, sniff everything, chase balls & frisbees, and so on. But there are just so many little things that can get her to go from happy excited dog to “WHAT IN THE FUCKITY FUCK IS THAT?” … I don’t like seeing my dog like that!

So today we got a prescription for clomicalm. And of course, I feel terrible about it. There’s the sensible part of me that is reminding myself of how much anti-depressants helped me, and how I DO NOT JUDGE other people for going on anti-depressants, or even for putting their pets on meds. That’s a personal choice, and it’s none of my business. Are they over prescribed? Probably, but who cares? That’s not my call.

But this one IS my call, and … admittedly, I feel like I failed. It’s supreme stupidness, because I have a dog who is SO SCARED she makes herself (and everyone around her) miserable at times. What kind of selfish fuck would I be to refuse to give my sweet puppy something that has a VERY good chance of helping her (especially when combined with the training we’re already doing) NOT be so bloody scared all the time?

I love my dog with all my heart. I want to do what’s best for her. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is what’s best for her.

But it still kind of sucks.

And she just let out the most horrifying fart in the world, and I can’t stop laughing at her. THIS IS A SERIOUS MOMENT, DOG. YOUR BUTT TRUMPET IS NOT TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE SEVERITY OF THE SITUATION.

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Tubal Litigation

May 20th, 2010 12 Comments

So, tubal ligation. Last night, there was a twitter-discussion on the concept, and how in BC it’s impossible to get one under 30-35 if you don’t have kids or don’t have a serious medical condition that could impact your child raising/pregnancy capabilities.

I’ve asked my doctor for a tubal for years between 22 & now (30). Couldn’t get one. And I’ll be up front: Yes, I’m actually considering changing my stance on childfree, maybe. Yes, it’s partially because my partner sorta,maybe,might want kids. One day. So it’s been shelved for now.

But if my doctor had gone ahead and listened to me? I’d have been fine with my decision — there are other options available if I absolutely HAD to have children. Personal responsibility is damn important to me, whether I’m 21, 31, 51, 91, whatever.

What REALLY kills me is that I know a woman who, at 24, had her second kid. One that she maybe wasn’t equipped for — the father of both of her children was in prison, they were no longer together, she was unemployed and unskilled. She was pretty irresponsible, a bit of a party girl, and now she had two kids to deal with. While she was getting her c-section, drugged to the gills and literally IN THE MIDST of having a baby, they convinced her to sign off on a tubal, and snipped her up while she was under the knife.

She regretted it pretty much the minute it was done. And that was … about 8 or 9 years ago. Said woman is now a nurse. Her kids are happy, healthy, smart — she’s done a damn good job raising them, especially considering her initial circumstances. She totally stepped up to the challenge.

And she? SHE is pissed that she got a tubal — and I think she has every right to be.

And what a fucking bizarre world it is when a doctor can pressure a young “white trash” mother into getting a tubal under duress, but won’t give one to responsible adults who’ve made a decision about their fertility.

Beyond that, the people I’ve known who were able to get tubals under 30 either had a debillitating illness (one that would affect their ability to give birth, but not negate it by any stretch — these women simply didn’t want children regardless of their bodies complaints.) I know one who had a kid, and was able to get it done — after rigorous questioning, like “What happens if your kid dies?” Newsflash: They’re not goldfish. You don’t just go get another one just because you accidentally forgot to feed this one, whoops. Still, counselling beforehand is a good idea… but then you accept their decision.

I didn’t know jack shit at 22, and I’m pretty sure I don’t know jack shit now either to be honest. But I’m still pretty capable of living with permanent decisions. We allow young women to get boob jobs, abortions, tattoos, and hey, babies — all things that PLENTY of people regret after it’s said and done. But we don’t allow them to get their tubes tied? Where’s the sense in that?

I don’t like to admit that I’m maybe changing my mind, because I feel like I dilute the arguments of the childfree. (Look! See! There’s someone who hit 30 and changed her mind! THAT COULD BE YOU!) Sure, it might be. And I always acknowledged that. I COULD change my mind.

But it’s still my call. If I’d had a tubal, that would have been my decision, and mine alone. If I regret it, fine, I regret it. I’ve read stats that say 30% of women under 30 who get tubals regret it. What about the other 70% who were perfectly happy with their choice? And when you read those stats — how many of them were coerced into it because they didn’t fit the doctors idea of what a young mother should be? I thought we got rid of eugenics.

What pisses me off is ANY woman being told that she doesn’t have the right to make decisions concerning her body. How is this any different from telling a woman she can’t have an abortion?

And it absolutely is a womans issue: Men have no problem getting vasectomies, pre-30, no kids, no illness. If men can get snipped, why can’t women?

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Pillow

May 20th, 2010 No Comments

Chillaxing

Justice makes an excellent pillow.

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The weekend that destroyed my feet

May 17th, 2010 1 Comment

I had a thoroughly awesome weekend and thoroughly destroyed my feet in the process.

It started on Friday night. Friday was the wrap party for Nick’s game, ModNation Racers, which you should all buy on May 25th. If you have a PS3, anyway. Hell, even if you don’t. It’s THAT FUN.

The wrap party was fun. It was at the Canvas Lounge, with is uber classy and made me feel like a real grownup. Within moments of walking in the door, we’d been handed two glasses of champagne that had … some sort of flower in it. Huh. Ice sculptures of ModNation characers held dozens of shot glasses, and I’ve discovered something about “custom” shots: Most good shots have already been invented and named, so when you try to make up your own custom shot… it’s probably not going to taste as good as the ones that already existed.

Still, I did a few shots, and am proud of myself that I can do shots WAY better than I could when I was 20. Hooray for killing off my taste buds over the last 10 years.

I may have been a little tipsy.

Best of all was the absolutely amazing performance by two lovely ladies of The Underground Circus, doing a gut-dropping aerial routine on what is apparently called a “Triceau”, according to this page. Basically it was two extremely flexible women spinning, rolling, bending, flipping, and twisting through a crazy metal structure made up of three hoops, about 10 or 15 feet above the ground.

Pretty fucking cool? Yes, yes it was.

We didn’t stay too late, being old and boring and such, but decided to walk most of the way home along Railway St, until it dumped us back out onto Powell. Somewhere around there I noticed that my feet were so sore I couldn’t think straight, and we jumped in a cab for the last km home. For the record, walking two km in heels hurts. And those were my comfortable heels…

Of course, come Saturday, I put them right back on. Saturday was the infamous Jeremy’s wedding, and what a hoot it was. Of course, first we had to get there.

So, when planning out my day the night before, I’d thought “Ok, wedding starts at 2pm, in Richmond. If I leave at 1:15, that shoudl be plenty of time.” And sometime between that plan and the next day, I had a full brain failure. Around 12:45, I was hopping in the shower, thinking I had TONS of time. Around 1:30, I was still happily doing my hair, in no real hurry. Around 1:45, my brain kicked back in and I realized no, I was not “on time”, I was HALF A FUCKING HOUR LATE ALREADY.

Luckily, I was ready at that point, so I grabbed my bag, my boyfriend, and my car keys and hauled ass down to the parking garage. Fucking hell. We arrived at almost exactly 2:30 — good to know, my original estimate of 45 minutes was dead on, and ran toward the chapel. Ok, sauntered casually, I can’t run in these stupid shoes.

On the upside, we got there before the ceremony started. Just. Jeremy’s lovely bride was outside, and as I had never met her before, I introduced myself as “the douchebag who can’t read a clock”. She was gracious and funny, and shooed us in ahead of the bridesmaids, and Nick & I scored a nice spot in the back row where we could be embarassed in anonymity. Or at least I could — Nick thought we timed that perfectly, with the minimum “sitting around waiting for things to start” time possible. Uh, you’re welcome, honey.

The ceremony was great — exactly what I’d expect from Jeremy. Or Dr. Seuss. The necessary parts were necessary, and the vows? The vows were hilarious, and I gotta say — it’s the first time I’ve seen wedding vows refer to the bride as a b…eautiful woman, when rhyming with “rich”. Yeah, you could say that Jeremy has definitely found the right match for his sense of humor.

The reception had promised things you’ve never seen before, and it didn’t fail to meet expectations: A photobooth is getting to be pretty common fare, but this one included props — Nick & I got some pictures with him in an eyepatch, and me in a pair of stunning oversized sunglasses bedecked with rhinestones. I need a pair of those, I think. But much more awesome was the sumo suits and the bouncy balls. Effing awesome. And the food? Oh my god, the food was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a tasty meal at a wedding before. I don’t even LIKE food that much, and this was worth raving about.

We didn’t stay too late, I had to be up ridiculously early (well, for a sunday) the next morning, and by then had spent another 8 hours in heels — we went to Ikea on the break between the ceremony & reception, and I MEANT to bring spare shoes, but with the whole “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN I’M SUPPOSED TO BE IN RICHMOND IN FIFTEEN MINUTES” debacle, I didn’t grab them on my way out.

On the upside, we were a pretty stunning looking couple in Ikea. We stopped by Rona, too — I broke Nick’s good screwdriver last week and figured I should replace it — and got a few nice comments from people. Why yes, I always break out the fancy dress for the hardware store. Don’t you?

So, we got home around … 11ish? Something like that. I pretty much immediately passed out, so that I could get up bright & early on Sunday to head over to my dog training facility to lay out my soaps in an appealing manner. Ok, I’m still working on my table layout. I need more levels. And perhaps some flashing lights or a free pony with every purchase. Whatever. Still, pretty happy with how it went. It was a little slow, I think the location is hard to find. It doesn’t help that Google Maps seems to think you can turn onto Vernon St from the 1st St overpass (west of Clark.) It’s also not accessible from Home Depot, the train tracks are in the way. But it was a fun day, I made a little cash, discovered that lemongrass is a VERY popular scent (I can’t blame them, I freaking love it too) and made a nice donation to HugABull, too.

There were many, many pitbulls in attendence, including one very wee puppy, and omg love. SO SILKY. Like seals! I’ve always said no pitbulls, because as much as I love them and would like to change peoples opinion of the breed, they come with a bad stigma and having one dog everybody hates is enough, but … omg, want!

I did NOT wear heels for the fundraiser, but still spent almost the entire day standing up — I had my nice camping chair to sit in, but I prefer to stand up if I’m talking to someone about my awesome soaps. (AWESOME. SOAPS.) Ow. I got home and attempted to pass out for a few hours, but Justice was being wiggy and didn’t really let me. THANKS, DOG.

Overall? Epic, busy, amazing weekend. Thanks to all who made it happen, especially Nick.

Tonight, I go see Amanda Palmer’s new musical act: Evelyn Evelyn. I’m … actually kind of uncomfortable with her response to the disability community’s issues with Evelyn Evelyn — I won’t get into that, there are plenty of places to read about it other than here. I’m not saying one side is right and one side is wrong, or that there IS a right and a wrong, just that I wasn’t particularly comfortable with her response to the whole thing (the whole thing I didn’t even know existed until she wrote about it on her blog — I find most feminist blogs piss me off, so I don’t read them.)

So.. I’d decided against going to see Evelyn Evelyn. At least, until I won a free ticket. Yay, free ticket! I do still love AP like crazy, and hell I still carry my “Who Killed Amanda Palmer” bag every day. My decision not to go wasn’t a boycott, just a mild discomfort and unwillingness to drop cash on something that makes me slightly uncomfortable. But free ticket is free, so… woo!

That’s all I have to say about that, except this: “The Venue” has got to be the dumbest name for a venue ever. Seriously? Who named this place, Abbot and Costello?

I hope my feet survive!

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Last minute reminder, then sleep!

May 15th, 2010 No Comments

Too exhausted to talk about Jeremy & Jeanette’s wedding, except to say: Fucking epic. Loved it. Wish I hadn’t had to leave so early, but responsibility calls.

Speaking of said responsibility: Come visit me at the HugABull Fundraising Flea Market tomorrow! 15% of my proceeds go directly to helping these dogs (and more!)

It’s a good cause. Come buy some soap!

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Oh, so that’s what aging feels like.

May 13th, 2010 1 Comment

I decided to go take Wednesday off work to go out to Cloverdale and visit with my mother. I even left the dog at home so I could concentrate on visiting, and not dog-wrangling. (Jasper & Justice play nicely together, but Justice is prone to wandering off if not supervised — she’s an explorer!)

So, they got a trampoline a few months ago, and it’s many funs, at least 17 funs. Last time I was out, I taught Carol Ann how to do somersaults — how does a kid make it to 8 without having done a somersault before? Anyway, she’s figured those out now, and so we’re working on getting her to be able to do flips on the trampoline. Of course, the only way I know how to teach something is to demonstrate it, and therefore did many, many trampoline flips. What’s the big deal? I used to do these ALL THE TIME when I was a kid, my best friend had a trampoline and we’d spend hours flinging ourselves around all crazy-like.

Right. Except that was TWENTY YEARS AGO. I’ve been having a bit of pain in my tailbone lately, and holy fucking hell does it ever hurt today. I hope it’s just bruised, because ow ow ow, my ass! My precious ass! It goes along with painful joints and an extremely stiff neck. I took a muscle relaxant this morning, and it helped in that I can turn my neck, but I’m still sitting extremely still to avoid aggravating anything else.

Shit. I thought thirty was young?

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