die in your dreams, falling on your knife

Last night I did the thing I do where I wake up and have to pee so do and then get a drink and then can't fall back to sleep. I lay awake for god knows how long, trapped in a reverie of bad memory.

It never ceases to amaze me how the razor sharp edge of bad experience is always so close to the surface of your consciousness when you lie awake in the night.

In any case, when I did fall back to sleep I couldn't shake the dis-ease and so my dreams were turbulent. I awoke feeling shredded, lost, alone, on the verge of ... something I can't seem to articulate.

The architect has to work for a while today and I don't really want to be here by myself. He procrastinated his departure (as usual) even though I kept asking him to get it over with so that he could come back and we could do something.

Anything to shake me out of this headspace, or else I'm afraid I'll be in bed all day, all week, all year.

Flashback

So check this:

TNB turned up on facebook yesterday. He added The Sister as a friend and she promptly msg'd me asking wtf happened and when he had a kid.

My heart about went through the floor b/c when I went and looked at the photos the child looks exactly like him and, for a moment, I think I know how guys feel when their females (or worse, recently ex females) miss their period.

I mean, it's clearly not MINE but my lizard brain refused to recognize that for about 40seconds.

This morning I got up and he'd added me as a friend and I looked at the picture again and it still made me feel a bit sick to my stomach.

Ick. Kids.

It's interesting

So when I was back up in Vancouver I decided to do a little experimenting with my life. I'm not sure if it's because being away from the architect automatically spurs me to indulge in actions that are spurious, at best, or if being on 'holiday' (though with the amount of running around I do while up there I never come home feeling like I've been relaxing) 'causes me to step outside of my comfort zone or what.

Anyway, as previously documented in these pages, I ate an egg. And praise be to Filthy for being the one friend who, when asked "Want to try an experiment?" responded with a hearty "yes", not a request for more details and then a 3hr long lecture on taking care of myself.

The other thing I did while I was there was to take myself off my meds.

I've been taking antidepressants for 3(?) years, now, and had just kind of thought they were going to be part of my life forever. Then, when I was doing my physical for immigration, the doctor (who was asian trained, so probably more conducive to thinking outside the constrains of Western Medicine (though that could be a raging stereotype)) asked why no one had ever suggested I come off them.

It started me thinking. Why *hadn't* anyone? Maybe it was time? I waited until I was out from under the watchful eye of the husband-person to do it and began tapering myself off - I mean, I'm really bad about remembering to take them, so I was pretty much at an every-other-day dose, so I moved it to three days, then four, then just stopped.

Instead, I'm taking a B-Complex and 5-HTP. And you know, I feel fine. More importantly, I *feel*. I didn't realize just how completely even keeled I've been - I've been missing the flashes of emotion I used to get: very happy or very sad. And I'm kind of enjoying having them back. I don't know if they are normal and, of course, I did this without consulting a doctor, but you know, for as long as things seem to be going ok then I'm going to stick with it.

It's a sad state of affairs

When I find myself driven to write not because I have something to say, but because every time I open my blog I am startled by my own breastesses.

So upon receipt of the green card (which would be better, of course, if it were available in pink), the architect and I met up with a couple of friends for happy hour celebrating. I actually do have a favourite spot for HH and, though it's not the cheapest spot in town, it's owned by a friend and the food is fan fricken tastic. Plus it's stylish and fun and the vibe is so welcoming. I love that.

Anyhoo, I drank too much and passed out cold before 9.30. Yay me! Saturday was the architect's birthday celebration - basically a repeat of friday except I didn't get drunk and pass out, I just fell asleep on the couch after we'd been out for drinks with a bunch of folks. We really have met a fun group of people down here. I do wish, though, I had some tight female friends. I miss hanging with the girls and going shopping. (vannasty, filthy, I'm sending "come hither" looks in your direction).

Blah.

My tits

Are now legal citizens of the USA. Can I getta a-men?!

So... new images

I'm possibly the luckiest girl in the world, in that I got pretty flowers and bee glasses and dinner at a french bistro and an afternoon adult-themed interlude in the shower. Of course I'm not *that* lucky because the sweet innie car is acting up, so we couldn't go watch hockey in anaheim today.

sigh.

Holy crap when I changed my shirt today, I took my bra off and there was a black cat hair stuck to my nipple and I had a minor heart attack. I saw my sexlife flash before my eyes and imagined weekly waxing sessions at the hair salon. Quelle mortification. Luckily, though, one of the cats was just wearing my bra when we were out last night. Does anyone else's pets romp through their undergarments when they aren't paying attention?

Yeah, didn't think so.

happy vd(ay)

So what with being at home all day I've had some time to get a little crafty. I like playing around with photoshop (I'm self-taught so not that remarkably skilled, as of yet), and I like words, so I muss about and combine them now and again. Take this little image, for example. I came up with it, borrowed a few lines from my main man bill shakespeare, and had them printed onto a transparency (you know, for overhead projectors). Then I folded the transparency over a piece of silvery vellum, stuck a square of pomegranate cardstock to the center of the vellum, wrote some smushy love crap on the cardstock and hey presto, a valentine for the architect.

Look at me go.

Vistors, busy, visitors

So a year ago today, the architect asked me to marry him. It's kind of shocking how fast the days have gone by, really. Two years ago we lived in our killer house in vancity and I had the flu. Three years ago I was trying to remember that it's best to stay sober before attempting to decorate cakes, in preparation for the sister's bday dinner. I was also still blogging <1 a day and publishing photos of my tah-tahs, but 3 years ago I was skinny so www/e.

I'd made some good inroads last week as far as healthy diet and exercise were concerned. Of course we promptly flew to Orlando and dove into a veritable orgy of business meals and cocktails, and now my folks are here so my routines are off. I really *REALLY* want to lose some weight in the next couple of months, though, so I've got to put my nose to the treadmill, as it were.