Kat’s Pause 

Well, I didn’t break anything skiing yesterday, although I did have a headache for 12 hours. It started when I fell and landed on my face. Miraculously, my frameless glasses didn’t get a scratch. My face fared little worse, with just a split lip and a few mild scrapes. I panicked a bit when I heard someone passing by on the lift overhead say “she’s bleeding.” (Title comes from when I was trying to check if my nose was bleeding, and wishing there was a part of my body not covered in plastic.) A dozen people called out “Are you okay?” and a nice snowboarder carried my skis down the rest of the hill for me. I called it quits after that, having previously smashed fullspeed into a big blue mat and injured my neck.

The interesting thing is that I did very well on the bunny hills — didn’t fall once. It was The Boy who didn’t take to skiing at all; he gave up and went home around noon. We all thought it would be the other way around, since he’s a skilled athlete and I’m lucky to not trip over my own feet while walking. I’ll probably go again sometime under better conditions, when the slopes aren’t icy from rain. Snowboarding looks fun.

Climbing didn’t happen. Again. It doesn’t even matter why, there’s always a reason, and now I have to retake my lessons because I haven’t gone in so long. Ben promises he’ll take me, but I wonder if I should just give up. Climbing is just a hobby for me; I love it, but my life can’t revolve around it, and I can’t seem to squeeze it in among my other occupations (school, work, dancing, writing/drawing/photography, Boy).

It’s raining, which is bad for the ski slopes I’ll be hitting tomorrow. Maybe those plans will fall through too. Making plans that don’t come to fruition is turning into my most frequent hobby.

Also, no fish, no passport photo, no glasses fixed (the arm fell off a couple days ago) and no artistic productivity. Right now I just want to sit and have a good cry, but I can’t because my nephew is playing RE4 in my room. Are there any other plans I can make and then abolish? I’m getting rather good at this.

By taking advantage of exchange rates, Expedia took almost 100 of my dollars, including the $40 You Clicked On Stuff fee.

Climbing didn’t happen — transportation and gear problems. But I had a surprisingly fun night with my family. My dad, my nephew and my Boy were all visiting. I took cute family portraits including all but the last, who despite getting presents from my oldest sister is still a little shy of family stuff. But he helped take some silly pictures afterward.

My nephew made a pretty impressive spaghetti dinner for all seven of us (mom, dad, me and my two sisters, himself and The Boy) which we followed with my mother’s pie and peanut butter chocolate squares I made earlier. It was like Christmas, part 3.

Anyone who knows jack about tropical fish, feel free to leave suggestions. Ideally I’ll possess some by tomorrow.

Apologies for the latest angry/depressed posts. The time leading up to it was pretty miserable, with the lowest point being Christmas morning when I was almost too sick to go to my grandparents’ house for Christmas lunch. But I made it, and when we got back, I spent time with The Boy not arguing. It was a refreshing change. I had hoped that our recent string of fights was induced mainly by holiday stress, and so far the evidence is in my favour.

Christmas evening, my sisters and I had a pyjama party at the older one’s apartment. We watched Singin’ in the Rain and ate chips before heading to a midnight Boxing Day sale at Metro, a cool little store downtown. I’ll post pictures of the loverly stuff I bought, eventually. The younger sister and I returned home and were joined by The Boy to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas. He stayed til the next morning, at which point my family hustled off to St Catherines for more family stuff. I had an excellent time, made even better by the excellent gifts I received, including a much-desired aquarium. The Lair needs some life in it besides my potted plant and occasional visits from my kitty.

Tomorrow I hope to buy some fishies, climb some walls, bake some cookies, do some cleaning, and spend some time with my visiting nephew. We played the new Simpsons game on my Wii tonight, but I found it frustrating and tedious. He’s trying to talk me into skiing on Friday or Saturday morning. I’ve never been before and I’m certain I’ll break all my bones if I do, so we shall see.

I don’t need this.

Perhaps taking a bath drunk is not a good idea. However, I am doing it anyway.

Perhaps bringing the macbaby into the tub is similarly unwise. Previous statement applies.

First big fight with The Boy. We sorted things out, but I’m still sad it happened. He’s out drinking with his ex now. I am home in my bathrobe feeling sickish; relationship arguments nauseate me.

Maybe I should have a Boys category, or a The Boy one. I would like to stick with this one for a while longer, though sometimes I forget why.

Montreal is off due to me stupidly booking the wrong hotel. After sufficiently panicking about this, cancelling the reservation, and spending a few hours futilely searching for a suitable hotel with The Boy, I gave up. I spent today depressed and mostly alone. There were tears and arguments with an unhappy boyfriend who couldn’t cheer me up. It was fun.

I hate Expedia because 1) they waited to charge my credit card until the Canadian dollar had dropped, tacking on an extra $30, 2) they’re charging me $40 to cancel my hotel reservation more than a week in advance, and 3) the hotel portion of their site started screwing up just as my anxiety was reaching its zenith. So thanks, Expedia. Thanks for taking my money and giving me a headache in return.

Had another pregnancy dream, but a test today confirmed that I’m baby-free. I got the nice people at McMaster’s health centre to test me for babies when they did for a UTI, which I do have (again). Thankfully my cold is almost over, and exams are fully over. Time to get drunk and forget everything I learned!

The Boy and I are going to Montreal for a week on the 27th. I’m more excited for that than for Christmas, which I suppose is evidence that I’m Growing Up. Last year my family started doing a Secret Santa exchange, so I don’t have a pile of mostly-useless presents to look forward to. This is more than made up for by the money I save not buying one rather than twelve people twelve mostly-useless gifts.

Dave introduced me to Google Analytics, and after letting it analyze my blog traffic for a while, I can safely say that the data creeps me out. Why are people who don’t know me reading my silly little journal? What on earth are they searching for that directs them here? Who in Romania stumbled upon me? I mean, I have a Romanian friend, but he lives right here in good ol’ Canada. Plus he hates blogs.

Go away, strangers! Despite the old tagline, this site is not for you.

Can’t sleep. Jealous, pissed at myself. No matter how much I’m adored, I can’t stop comparing. Your love is never enough, but it’s not you; no one’s is. The more you mean the pretty things you say, the more I’ll crave them and the less I’ll believe you. Sometimes I don’t even like you. Désolé. I’ll never stop testing you and you’ll always hurt me. Je suis excessive.

I still can’t sleep. M’aidez. Why can’t you know when I need you?

Nightmares. Dreams where I was crazy, hated, abnormal, where I had to constantly run and hide. I slept through a linguistics review session I wanted to go to. The exam’s in two days and I have yet to begin studying, which isn’t atypical of me, but I’m nervous about this particular exam. I was hoping to catch up on the readings today. Maybe that will still happen.

Give me all your spoiler artwork.

mmph. I wanted to write some Zelda fanfic, but then I went browsing around DA and now I feel like taking pictures. Mostly because I can’t draw.

Stop making me dream I’m pregnant. It’s annoying, especially when I wake up beside Ben and he pokes my tummy and we both hope it’s empty.

Things have been rough lately; I don’t need another rotten surprise. Keep meaning to write about it, or write at all, and then just… not. Ditto for countless other things.