Sick Day.

I hadn't been really, properly good and sick in a couple of years now, so I knew I was in for it. A couple of colds here and there, some irritating body aches, but nothing incredible. Wednesday afternoon I woke up (after working a night the night before) with a scratchy throat, and by 9:00 that evening it had hit me nearly full force. I slept that night in the way that only someone with a fever can sleep: deeply obilvious to the world and yet absolutely devoid of rest or comfort. And then all of the next day. Around 5pm I awoke freezing, despite my layers of clothing and blankets, and needed, needed a hot bath.

I lay in the bath, still covered in goosebumps. I rested my head against the side of the tub. I very nearly fell asleep again right there, but some measure of common sense told me I would probably drown. Get out of the bath. Dress myself. God, I'm freezing again. Man, bathing is exhausting!

So, back to bed until Friday morning. Actually, noon on friday, at which point the fever mercifully went away and I was able to leave my bed in favour of the couch, to watch crappy TV and read Harry Potter. Kyle force-fed me chicken broth, Tylenol, and orange juice at regular intervals despite the fact that I winced and moaned after every swallow. He is a chivalrous fellow.

Today, I feel almost myself. I tried to go into work, but was deemed too pale by a coworker and let off the hook. I still can't eat much (I suspect Strep Throat as the culprit of my illness), but I'm beginning to feel human again.

Now, because I am shallow and have a short attention span and dislike blog posts without photos in them, I leave you with something pretty.

Turquoise tent ring @ Old Gold Boutique, via Eat Drink Chic.

Oh, luxurious leisurely day.

I woke up this morning, for the first time that I can remember in a long time, and thought to myself;

What do I want to do today?

And then I did a little mental happy dance, because I can hardly remember when I last had this luxury - usually, the question is 'what do I need to get done today?' Not that there is nothing on my to-do list... but there is nothing that needs my immediate attention.

So I put on some coffee, read a book for a while, and came on to the computer to read the posts in my google reader - and today, I didn't just scroll through, stopping on favourites or for a catchy title or nice photo. I read them! all!

Next, I'm going to take my pup-pup for a walk (or maybe even a run), Walk over to the new (big) thrift store around the corner to have a lookie-loo (Kyle bought an almost-new pair of roller blades there for only $4.50 a couple weeks ago), go to my hair appointment this afternoon, and then maybe do a bit of grocery shopping and make a simple, healthy dinner tonight.

So yeah, I might be dirt poor and jobless (though I have a phone interview tomorrow for a job across the country) and in a semi-permanent state of distress and panic, but today, I have a blank schedule, and am free to revel in all the luck in my life. I am a university graduate! I am marrying my love in six weeks! I have great friends, supportive family, and a whole life and career to get started on!

And I'm going to start it right now. By taking a slow, luxurious, agenda-less stroll with the dog.

curly-cues

I was a cute kid.

Here, I have proof.

This and other family photos found tonight while scanning some items to load onto a digi-frame for my mum's Christmas present. Look at those curls!! I still have them, but I can't beleive that with that mop I spent so much of my childhood hating my hair.

ps. mexico was fabulous, I wasn't ready to come home.

other peoples' children

hickens, I am going to admit something strange to you today.

I love babies.

Okay, lots of people love babies, I suppose it isn't that strange.

But I tell you, I am obsessed. It is only by the sheer force of my will that I do not already have a brood of babies running around, being ridiculously cute. For Kyle and me, the right time just hasn't come. Money and age and general growing-upness and the like mean that we have decided not to make any babies in the too-near future.


But oh, my. If we didn't have friends with wonderful, sweet, adorable children, I would have baby-trapped that man ages ago.

Cozy Toes

y first pair of slippers was given to me for my eighteenth birthday. They were pink. fuzzy inside, fuzzy outside, boot-shaped, and given to me by a friend. I feigned excitement, then put them in the corner, not really intending to wear them.

But later, my feet got chilly, as they always do (Kyle often makes me wear socks to bed because they are so cold, even though there is no feeling more bizarre and uncomfortable to me than wearing socks to bed). And I put on my new, pink, fuzzy inside and outside boot-slippers. And I have never looked back.

Since then, I have purchased and worn out at least one pair of slippers (always boot-like in nature, never slip-on) each winter. I wear them inside. I wear them in the car sometimes. I bring them to other peoples' houses so that my feet can be warm and adorable anywhere I go. I have once or twice forgotten to change from slippers to shoes and worn them in the grocery store. It was an accident, I SWEAR. I am not one of those shops-in-her-pajamas types of people.

As the weather has gotten cooler, I knew it was time to find my next pair of slippers. So, on a whim, I stopped at Old Navy on my way home the other day, and there I found a glorious array of exactly the boot-shaped booties I love. With stripes, and pom-poms. Oh, my.

And here they are. So pretty, so cozy. If with this post I can convert one, EVEN ONE non-slipper-wearing person into a beleiver, I consider my job done. Just try it! You'll like it.

*PS, in case you missed it: The letter M (and all the scripty lovelies at the beginning of my posts) is brought to you by Jessica Hische and her Daily Drop Cap Project.

Disengaged, unenthralled, bored.

Doodle, the only productive thing I've done all week.

olks, I have something to admit. I am so, so, SO bored.

I have the last-semester-EVER at a university itch, and I absolutely cannot stay engaged. At all. I have never cared less about my education than I do right now. And I should care, since I am paying an arm and a leg for it. I should be wringing every last drop out of it, learning as much as I possibly can.

But here's the thing. And I have never, EVER complained about this before.

My program is teaching me too much in the way of critical thinking and theory. And yet I am in the final year of a baccalaureate degree in SCIENCE, for pete's sake, and I can barely describe the anatomy of the human body in scientific terms, let alone normal physiology. You want to know about disease processes? Forget about it. I feel like I don't remember a darn thing.

I can tell you a great deal about establishing therapeutic relationships, phenomenology, Nursing theory. But it has been two years now since I have learned anything about pharmacology, or nursing process.

Since I now possess excellent critical thinking skills, I know exactly where to find all the information I lack, of course. But I am about to enter into the working world, and here's the thing:

I know exactly what nursing as a profession needs, and I have learned enough that I could probably change the world if I wanted to. But I haven't learned enough about the actual job I will be performing when I graduate to be confident doing it. I never thought I'd say this, but I wish my schooling had involved just a wee bit more memorization work. Especially if it meant writing fewer papers.

I am so, so frustrated. And did you know, internet, that I am taking a class on critiquing research IN MY FINAL YEAR OF EDUCATION? Not, oh, I don't know, in first year, where I could then have used that knowledge every time I chose scientific references for my papers.

I see the value of what I have learned. I am prepared to enter into nursing practice.

But I'm not so sure I feel ready to enter into a nursing JOB.

Secret

I ordered my wedding dress the other day. You can see it here. (Kyle, don't peek!)

I have been wondering about how to accessorize the dress. I am kind of torn between two looks.

1. Ethereal, princess-of-the-woods

2. Colorful, vibrant, and fun (which, considering the vibe of the food and the invites, etc, may be more fitting with the day)

What do you guys think??

Slapsgiving weekend.

Hello, again!

This past weekend was thanksgiving weekend for those of us here in Canada who celebrate the real thanksgiving ;).

We had dinner here at our place. This was the third or fourth Turkey I have made. It was still partially frozen when I put it in the oven. It turned out delicious and tender, albeit 1 1/2 hours later than I had planned for. I was worried, because I do not have a meat thermometer (you may point accusatory fingers at me as you wish. I could kill somebody). So far, nobody has called to tell me about salmonella poisoning.

Anyway, Sunday involved a lot of boiling and testing and mashing carrots and turnips (which, let's be honest, logic dictates should not be a food, but we mash it with carrots and brown sugar and BUTTER! anyway) and cream-braising brussels sprouts until they are nutty and delicious (deemed worthy for consumption by my sixteen-year-old brother whose last vegetable was LAST slapsgiving dinner, when I last made said brussels sproups) and making pumpkin pie from scratch for the first time. By scratch, I mean that I used canned pumpkin and spiced it myself. I did make my own crust, I'm pretty good with shortcrust pastry.

But, DID YOU KNOW that there is condensed milk in a pumpkin pie filling? Well, there is. And, had you, like me, forgotten that condensed milk is totally, completely, out-of-this-world scrumptious and decadent?? WHO NEEDS THE PIE?

Also, on sunday, I got registered.

(as a sex offender. Ha, ha)

No, but actually, I meant that we registered for wedding gifts. And can I be totally, brutally honest? It was about six million times more fun that I could ever have dreamed of. Even though there are basically only two choices of store to register at. One is The Bay, and the other is Home Outfitters, which is owned by The Bay. It's either that, or ask for cash envelopes. Seriously! You think I am kidding.

We registered for a bunch of stuff, mostly small. But the size doesn't really matter for the most part, because people are going to buy it! for me! and I won't even have to pay! just because they love me, and they love Kyle, and Kyle and Me love each other! Isn't that fabulous?

We did scan just one big-ticket item, though:

Dyson Ball Animal DC-25

At $699, this is likely out of our friends' and families' price ranges. I do not expect to actually get this, unless we have some particularly generous-feeling grandparents or our friends decide to give us a group gift. The Bay does have a neat program in which we can continue to add items to our registry up to our first anniversary, then buy things off it at the best sale price it has had in the past year. Cool, yeah? makes me want to toss all our stuff to the curb, just so I can be all like BUT CHECK OUT THE DEAL I GOT ON THE NEW ONE.

I won't do that, though, because I'm not crazy.

*if you get the slapsgiving reference, you are officially awesome and can we be friends?

Curating

I spent the day reorganizing, rearranging furniture, and otherwise trying to simplify.

I didn't take any before and after shots, making me officially the worst DIY-er ever. But I did snap a couple of curation photos with the iphone.

On giving in.

yle's phone starts beeping in the middle of the night. He wakes up, listens for a minute as his sleepy brain registers the noise, looks at the screen. Junk email. He sighs.

What time is it? I ask.

It's four-forty five, says he.

Guess there's no sleep for me tonight, says I.

In forty-five minutes the alarms will go off, we will press snooze a few times, and then be up for the day.

I need to get some sleep.

The following night, last night, for the first time, I gave in and bought something to help me sleep. After a lifetime of lying in bed staring at the wall, I am caving. I thought maybe this problem could be squashed with chamomile tea and a good routine, but, hello? I am a nurse. There is a very good chance it will be years and years before I have a job which doesn't involve shiftwork. I can't, can't continue like this.

It never, ever takes me less than two hours to fall asleep, and hasn't since I was about five. I remember when my parents would come check on me before they went to bed, they were often shocked to find me awake, quiet, staring at the ceiling. My brother and sister, on the other hand, would give it twenty minutes and then be in the living room with an "I can't sleeeep".

Ha.

On bad days, I sleep two or three hours or not at all. I feel like I can't turn off my brain, even if I am not thinking or deliberating over anything important. It's usually making to-do lists for the following day, thinking about how I wish I had painted the bedroom when I was on that painting spree in the spring, wondering about the logistics of minimizing dust and dog hair in my home. Small, ridiculous things.

So yesterday, I bought my first bottle of melatonin, three milligrams. I will take it regularly, for a while, and later only when I have the signs of a poor night's sleep: a tight jaw, an active mind. It seemed to work last night, though that could have easily just been utter exhaustion. We will see.

I heart Mondays

ig Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother are on tonight. Just so you know.


*the letter B is brought to you today by Jessica Hische's Daily Drop Cap project!

Birthday Goals

Today is my Birthday! I have reached the ripe old age of twenty-two. Somebody get me a cane.

In honour of this, I have decided to make some goals for the coming year:

1. Write - for one short period of my life I was a writer. I ate, slept, breathed poetry. I was good at it. I was published, and not by poetry.com. Prose was not my strong point. But last night I woke up in the middle of the night and decided to write a book. That's right, you heard me. I am going to write a book. I may never have it published, may never submit it for publication, may never finish it, even. But I am going to start.

2. Self-Discipline - This is a blanket goal which ultimately includes my incredible aversion to doing anything I 'should' do. Like getting out of bed on time, going to bed on time, eating healthy foods, exercising, paying my bills, doing readings, walking the dog, writing papers. This goal could also be filed under 'laziness and procrastination'.

3. Lose some weight - I've blogged about this before, so I'll be brief. Goal weight is 145 pounds, which means I need to lose about 10% of my body weight. This is ideally a goal for pre-wedding, and also falls under the self-discipline category.

4. Let go of some control - which means not being so picky about things like how clean the house is, and leaving some space for Kyle's tastes when picking out furniture, etc.

5. That said, get rid of some stuff. - I have been posting a lot about curation of items, and I think that ultimately, what I really need is just to de-clutter and simplify. If it's not being used regularly and I don't have an emotional attachment to it, it needs to go. Yeah, this totally flies in the face of goal #4. What, have you never seen a hypocrite before?

6. Quit smoking, for good. - I am so, so very close. I am at the point where physical addiction is just not an excuse anymore, because it's not possible. I can go for days, weeks even, without smoking, and not miss it. Now to kick the social habit of lighting up every once in a while... this is harder than it sounds, apparently, and something I have been battling for a while now.

6. Finish nursing school. Get a job. Get married. Let grown-up life begin. - speaks for itself... this will be a big year!

A humble request.

In light of recent events and in celebration of finishing my summer practicum, I have decided to write a sort of living will.

I am a huge, huge beleiver in compassionate euthanasia (used in the right circumstances). I beleive that it could and should be used at a person's request in order to allow people to choose to die with dignity and comfort. If I move away from here, I will probably move to the Netherlands or Oregon or somewhere else which allows the use of compassionate euthanasia.

With the elderly being the highest consumers of health care, one of the most common things we see in the hospital is dementia. And I began thinking: what If I become too demented to request the dignified death I want and deserve?

So, that said, here is my living will in case I ever get dementia (based on recent hospital experiences). If you don't enjoy talk about poop, you probably should stop reading now.

1. I am okay with being incontinent of urine. I know this is a pretty common and unavoidable thing for a great many older adults. However, if I am unaware of the fact that I have peed myself, If I choose to go in a diaper instead of in the toilet, or if I am regularly incontinent of stool, it's probably time to go.
   
2. If I ever attempt to disempact myself, especially with an ungloved hand, it's probably time to go.
3. especially if I manage to fit MY ENTIRE HAND up to the wrist up there.
4. If I ever become so confused that I pull a catheter out of my bladder, it's probably time to go.
5. I am okay with meeting new people every day, but If I forget the names or faces of family members, it's probably time to go. If I start mistaking caregivers for family members, it's definitely time to go
6. If I donate all my money to a church or charity to the extent that I am unable to pay my rent or mortgage, it's probably time to go.
7. If I am in the hospital as a patient and beleive I am at work and that my roommate is my patient, it's probably time to go.
8. If I am in the hospital and crawl pantsless into bed with another patient because they are complaining of being cold, it's probably time to go.
9. If I ever poop or pee on the floor because I forgot where the bathroom is, it's probably time to go.
10. If I am ever unable to be reasoned with or become violent and need restraining, chemical or physical, it's probably time to go.
11. If I become disruptive to the point of being a 'hall monitor' patient, it's probably time to go.
12. If I ever hallucinate about politicians standing over my bed and attempt to physically harm them, it's probably time to go.
    

When you can't stick to the plan...

you blog about it.

So here's the thing.
I'm getting married in 10 months. And I really would like to slim down a bit before then. Not because I want to be a bridezilla or will look at my wedding photos and gripe about my chins. Although it is true that I wouldn't mind showing the photos to my grandkids and reminiscing over how beautiful and thin I was back then.

The thing is, then: I love my curves. I am 5'7 and 165lbs. That is, from a BMI point of view, I'm overweight. Just a teensy bit, mind you. 6 pounds down would bring me into the 'normal' range. I don't particularly mind being overweight, because I'll have you know, I look fantastic naked. Just FYI.

But I would really, really love to be able to pull on a pair of jeans without worrying about whether they will show off my muffin top . I would kill to have a pair of pants wear out at the knees before they wear out where my thighs rub together. I'm not saying I want to be 110 pounds or anything. I just want to worry about the jiggle a little bit less.

As an almost-nurse, I also know the value of core strength and want to build in that way so that I do my best to avoid back injury.

And god dammit, I'll say it: I want to wear a strapless wedding gown without the chicken wings. There you go. I'm vain that way.

Another reason I want to lose some weight is that one day, maybe not so very far away, I want to have kids. and I want those future pregnancies to be happy and healthy and leaving me afterwards with a body which, while maybe not the same, is still something I can be happy with. Also, I am very afraid of the dreaded number: 200. At nine months pregnant, the last thing I want is for that number to be staring me in the face. Because if that happens, there will be a fight. And I already know, the hormones will win.

These thoughts have been fluttering around in my head for ages and ages, and I just can't seem to get started. I have my crazy summer work schedule partly to thank for this. The rest of the credit can go to the raging sweet-tooth, carb-loving maniac who lives inside me. Thanks, maniac.

I don't honestly know where to start, or even what my goal is. I think a realistic thing would be to go for 10%: 16.5 lbs.
I've had some past success with weight watchers (I used to be 15-20 lbs heavier), but I can't afford that business right now. But I do need to be conscious about my eating habits and oh, I don't know, get moving a little more. Which means ending this blog post and getting the eff outside.

I'm sick.

The past couple of days, I have been more tired than I have ever been before*. More tired than anyone in the history of the universe.

I have a summer cold. And everyone knows, a summer cold is the lamest possible type of cold. Luckily, Victoria has been rainy and grey for the past few days so I'm not missing too much.

But still, I imagine all the things I could do. all the tidying I might have the energy to do, all the little house projects I had planned for my days off. But all I can do is sleep, and it sucks. The poor dog is going crazy.

Yes, please. Lace and flora via FFFFOUND!

I'd gladly stay in bed all day if my space looked like this. It wouldn't be sleeping the day away, it would be more like sunbathing or Catnapping, both of which are much more graceful than just sleeping.

*I beleive this every time I get sick. It's funny, my main symptom of sickness is usually exhaustion rather than various other forms of misery. I'd much rather hack up a lung at a functional level of energy than become exhausted from tiny little things like showering**.
**true story.

Robin redbreast, come and gone.

*found on the back walkway this morning...


from the way this egg is cracked (ie, poked out at the end), I choose to beleive it hatched of its own accord rather than being scavenged. It's so pretty. I don't know where the nest is.

*please reserve any comments about my sausage fingers. It's a Dutch thing, I can't fix it. I can only hope that, through selective breeding practices, I can avoid passing this trait on to future generations. Oh, wait, nevermind. Kyle's hands are huge.

I could do that!

and today, I did.

Fashioned after ban.do's no.10, which I have been lusting over for ages.

I do feel a tad guilty for so blatantly stealing a design concept, but my $15 version certainly fits my budget (am I really going to mention being a poor student in every post? very well, then,) much better than their $130 one. And it's not as if I'm selling them, so I hope that makes it okay.

one night with a camera...

feeling bored and couldn't sleep the other night.