Archive for July, 2009

I Win 12 Internets!

July 28th, 2009
So my friend @cwknight asked for people to send him dirty text messages today. At the end of the day, he would pick a winner for best message.

He received some interesting messages, some of which you can read here. They involve donkey shows and peanut butter, chili dogs, dishwashers and a bunch of other things that are confusing. I decided text messages were amateur and decided to leave him a voicemail because A: I do not have a cell phone (*gasp*) and B: voice mail is so much better. AND I WON! I WON 12 INTERNETS!

Now really you should go read his blog cause there is some funny shit on it, but if you are too lazy, you can listen to my winning submission here. According to @cwknight this is why I won: “Audio, Web 2.0 company mentions, AND a sexy sign-off? How could she lose?!”

On another note, it was interesting after I left that messages how many other requests I had for messages on their voice mails. A couple people told me I should start a business of phoning people and leaving them weird messages. Maybe on day HA!





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Dear Technology,

July 25th, 2009
It is with a heavy heart that I write you this letter. I am really sorry to say this, but our love affair must come to an end. If we do not take a break now I am afraid that it will only end up in divorce. I wrote you a warning once before, however it looks like you did not take me seriously. Truly, I am sorry.

I RAM your motherboard, I unzip your files, I fill your empty slots and you turn on me. When you asked me if it was okay to stick a Trojan on my hard drive, I thought it was foreplay. I did not realize you were serious. When you asked if you could dangle your worm in my…, well you get the idea. The days of me FlickR’ing your YouTube in return for you Twittering my Yahoo are at an end. It is time for me to reformat our relationship. Maybe once that is done we can re-examine our relationship.

Believe me when I tell you, I plan on sleeping around while on this break. When I have calmed down and had a chance to decide if our relationship is what I want, we can talk. If we decide we can continue this love affair that has lasted a lifetime, you better not pull a Rachel or this will be your future:

Yours truly,

Jules





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Heffalumps and Woozles

July 23rd, 2009
When I was a child I spent a lot of time in imaginary worlds. It was necessary for my survival to escape. Luckily I had a great imagination to escape into. I use to do a lot of role playing. Not the sit around the table, roll dice type of role playing (but that is so cool too) but I would step into these characters, run around and be them for hours at a time whenever I had time to escape life. When I played Transformers with my friends, we WERE Transformers. We didn’t play with toys. The same goes for G.I. Joe, He-Man and She-Ra, Justice League and a myriad of other characters. In those games I was anyone else but me. I needed to be anyone else but me. These escapes into other worlds is probably one of the reasons why I love acting to this day, why acting is still a vital part of my personal mental health program. My childhood was not a happy one. My mother is an alcoholic and she is bipolar. Not a great combination. For as long as I can remember, I was the mom of the family. It was my job to take care of my mother and my little sister. Most of my time was spent being an adult and not a child.

Despite the troubled childhood, I do have wonderful memories about those years and a few good memories of my mother. I wrote before I owe my love of gaming and games to her. My love for books and reading is also due to her. There was nothing I looked forward to more as a child than the moments where my mom would take time out of her life for my sister and I. Times where my sister and I were not a distant afterthought. Those moments normally involved being read to.

The book she would read to us most often was Winnie The Pooh. She would read to us out of this ancient copy (in our pre-6 year old minds it was ancient) which belonged to her brother when he was our age. It had a brown hardcover with a red inlayed outline of Winnie the Pooh and Piglet. The pages were yellowed with age. When you opened up the pages, a wonderfully comforting musty smell would waft out. On the inside cover, which was wallpapered with a repeating image of the single cover image, was an inscription stating whom the book belonged to and whom it was from. It was perfect. My sister and I knew magic was about to happen when our mom would pull out the book and tell us she was about to read.

When she read, she was full of life. She would make voices for all of the characters and read to us with great enthusiasm. It was like listening to a full orchestra. There was a richness and fullness to her voice. Her voice would rise and fall, slow down and speed up, ebb and flow. She was animated and happy. We were happy. My sister and I would listen intently as she very carefully unravelled the story for us, vividly painting pictures in our heads of the adventures of Christopher Robin and his toys. Winnie the Pooh made us a family. So it is of no surprise that my sister and I would take these stories and make them our own reality.

When my sister and I were younger, we lived on two properties that had a ton of acreage. The first of these properties had a little bridge over a little creek. The property was so vast, we would have to drive golf carts to get from one area to the next if we wanted to get anywhere in good time. But on days when we were in no hurry, on days where we had moments to escape, my sister and I would walk down the road and visit the creek. This creek was the source of much amusement. On the banks, grew watercrest. Sometimes we would pick the watercrest and pretend we were proper ladies eating watercrest sandwiches. But most of the time, we would play Pooh Sticks.

My sister and I would take our times finding just the right sticks or pine cones for this game. After all, a lot is at stake during such a game as Pooh Sticks. This is not a decision you make lightly as any old stick will not do. After we had found our lucky sticks, we would very ceremoniously walk to the dropping point. I am sure that we had rehearsed dialogue that would take place as all of this happened, but to this day I cannot remember it. All I remember was the anticipation that we felt finding the stick. My sister and I ensuring we did not rush the decision that will either cause us win or lose. Making sure that every moment of the escape was exact and picture perfect. We would drop our sticks very solemnly and then quickly run to the other side of the bridge to see who’s stick appeared first thus declairing the victor. Once in awhile we would imagine Eyeore floating under the bridge with out sticks. From time to time, we would include extra sticks and pretend all of the animals from the 100 Acre Wood were there playing with us. And if it was I who lost or my sister, we would start up some conversation directly out of Winnie the Pooh about how the stick needs to be dropped in a twitchy sort of way or other such methods for effective stick dropping that would enable victory.

Our own Adventures of Winnie the Pooh did not end there. We moved to another place that had acreage. The property was not as vast but there was more usable forest, allowing us to take our role playing to a whole new level. Heffalump hunting! We would spend hours upon hours digging Heffalump traps, covering them with pine branches and pine needles, and making sure our tracks were covered while we found a place to hide and wait. Wait for those sneaky Heffalumps to show their faces. Wait for the perfect moment for us to jump out from our hiding place and surprise them while springing the trap. Because if you are not smart and if you are not careful those tricky Heffalumps will sneak up behind you and steal all your honey! We would also spend many hours with our noses to the ground following Heffalump tracks. This is very tricky business. You have to tiptoe ever so quietly because if you make a noise you are bound to be Heffalump food. If by chance we broke a twig, heard a snap or a rustle in the woods, or even the noise of any bug or animal, we would yell and jump for the nearest cover. We would shoosh each other and try our best to breathe ever so quietly and pray the approaching Heffalump would not find us. This is very serious business. If you ever had the unfortunate circumstance to run into a Heffalump (such as my sister and I did on many an occasion) you would understand why. They are not exactly the friendliest of creatures.

There were other Winnie the Pooh adventures we would reinact from time to time, but none gave us more pleasure than playing Pooh Sticks and going Heffalump Hunting. Those memories stand out the most. Those two games were the beginning of many years stepping out of reality and stepping into fantasy. Those two games allowed me to be free. Those two games allowed me to be a child.

Winnie the Pooh will probably be my favourite book for the rest of my life. When I was growing up, I could not wait for the day that I could impart on my own children the joy and wonder that is Winnie the Pooh, for the days when we would have our own Adventures in the 100 Acre Wood.

Winnie the Pooh may be a silly old bear but he is my silly old bear.





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Woman's Worth

July 22nd, 2009
Yet again So You Think You Can Dance has left me at a complete loss for real words and brought me to tears. Tyce Diorio is brilliant. This number will go down as one of my favourites. Even Nigel cried. This piece is applicable to anyone who has been affected directly (either them self, friend or a family member) by a potentially fatal illness.

Mia sums it best when she says those with cancer worry more about those around them being okay than them self. It touched me deeply as this is on the heels on my own writing of what it is like to live with lupus and how it hurts us to watch those around us suffer as they have to sit by helpless as we fight the illness.

Thank you Tyce, from the bottom of my heart. You are beautiful.






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Funny Is All I've Got

July 21st, 2009
I just had the best date ever! My youngest and I went out for dinner and it was awesome. Thankfully he is still at the age where it is still cool to be seen with your mom in public. My oldest is at that age where it isn’t really all that cool anymore and is always out with his friends. My youngest and I had a lot of laughs and the conversation was hilarious. My son is a natural born comic and has a great sarcastic and quipping nature. I will share some of this now.
Kid2: All I have to do is look at my friends and they laugh.
Me: Because you have a natural goofy personality.
Kid2: Funny is all I’ve got. I’m like Chandler.

Kid2: If you were in mind for one second, you would come out with a O.o face.
Me: If you went in my mind, you would do the same thing.
Kid2: Yes I would because the only thing in your mind is love love love.
Me: *blank stare*
Kid2: Is there anything else in there besides dirty thoughts?
Me: *jaw drop*

Me: I wish I had a pen to write these conversations down.
Kid2: I need to stop giving you ideas for your blog.

Kid: You wouldn’t make it one day in my life.
Me: I know because I cannot make weird noises. (Back story here. The other day we had this conversation: Kid2: Do you know what is great about guys? Me: What love? Kid2: From the time they are young they practice making weird noises so that they are great at making them.)
Kid: Yes you can. All you have to do is open your mouth and talk.
Me: Brat.

Then as we were walking home:

Kid2: I have a talent for making long lists. Example:
Hi person who made me.
Who likes the colours blue and black.
Who is wearing a black skirt.
And likes having strapless purses.
Who has long hair.
And wears glasses.
And has arthritis.
And has 3 moles on her neck.
And has some moles on her back.
And has a mole on her cheek.
And who is incredibly smart.
And doesn’t need a calculator.
And makes unnatural girl farting noises.

There was a lot of other really funny moments, but these are the ones that stand out the most.

I have wonderful children. I love them to bits and pieces. Every day they give me a dose of humour. But better than loving my children, I really like my children. It is easy to love your children. It is another thing all together to like them.





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Putting A Face To Lupus – The Elephant In The Room

July 20th, 2009
This will probably be the hardest blog I will ever write as it is something I really do not like to talk about. It is the elephant in the room that no one wishes to acknowledge. However, today is a very emotional day for me. I have spent all day crying. And not because I am sad but because for the first time in 7 years I have hope. I have hope for a long life. I have hope for a future. I have hope that I will get to see my grandchildren grow and maybe even see great-grandchildren. I have hope that I have not been given a death sentence. There is finally a new drug that is showing promise for the treatment of lupus.

Hi, my name is Julia and I have lupus. Today has been a joyous day for those of us who suffer this disease and to our friends and family who take the time to really understand it. Unfortunately among all the news surrounding the results of the latest drug trials for Benlysta, all the focus has been on money and not the faces of lupus. Lupus is called the disease of a thousand faces for a reason. There is no cure and it is unknown what causes lupus. And despite television programs like House constantly throwing out the word lupus on every episode like some meme, most people have no idea what lupus is. I am going to try and put a face to lupus. I am going to try my best to be very blunt and write from the heart. I am not going to talk so much about the physical effects of the disease. My focus will be about the psychological and sociological effects of the disease. This scares me for many reasons that you may understand as I try my best to tell my story openly and honestly. I hate talking about this as I always get met with pity and the “I’m sorry” replies when people become uncomfortable and do not know how to respond. I am not sorry I have this disease but I am always sorry for sharing that I have this disease. Hopefully this time I will not be sorry. I am not going to get into stats or give a bunch of links. It may help a reader understand and at the same time since no two lupus suffers are the same, it may not.

When I was first told I may have lupus, my heart sank. Lupus = death and I knew this better than most people as I had just lost someone close to me due to the complications of lupus. The death was awful because we had no warning. It is not uncommon for someone with lupus to be told many times, “This flair may be the one that kills you. It is time for you and your family to prepare.” So you do what you have to do and you get better, only for the next time. With the person I lost, we were told that many times over decades and every time she got better. Then without warning, she was dead. Many of us that suffer from lupus have to see doctors regularly. I personally have 6 doctors that monitor my condition. When I am not fed up with living for doctors appointments and am being a “good” patient, I have to see some sort of doctor every two weeks and have blood tests done a minimum of once a month. My friend went in for her regular blood work. Her liver levels were off. Less than three weeks later, she was dead. When I got the phone call, I thought it was a cruel joke. What do you mean she was dead? She was just teaching dance a couple of weeks ago. Why now and without warning? Why not the many times in the past when we were told this may be it? It was at that time that my own road to diagnosis had begun. The last thing I needed was a reminder that I was about to be handed a painful death sentence.

The elephant in the room was becoming bigger. You do your best to ignore it. You do your best to live each moment in the now and not worry about the what-ifs. Because let me tell you, there are thousands of them. You find yourself every now and then looking at your children and fighting back tears. You have these moments often where you think “I have to take a snap shot of this and remember it always always and make sure they remember it always always as next week I could get bad news.” Then you beat yourself up for acknowledging the elephant and forgetting to just live. But then you beat yourself up again because you need to be realistic. You need to make sure that those whom you love know it and you really need to make sure that your children know it. My heart breaks every time my youngest brings up my stroke. That was a scary period for my children and I HATE that they have to go through my illness. Two movies that make me bawl to no end are Finding Neverland and Stepmom as they deal with children losing their mothers to disease. My heart breaks because my children will go through that one day unless there is drastic change in the treatment of lupus. Today gave me hope and for the first time I was not afraid for what my children will have to go through despite my best efforts to ignore the truth and just enjoy them. It is a very sad thing (and hopefully they find the why’s to this soon) that most women who are diagnosed with lupus are in their child-bearing years and get the diagnosis shortly after having children. I love my children with all that I am. However, had I been diagnosed with lupus prior to having them, I would not have had children. And admitting that out loud is hard for me since for as long as I can remember, I knew I was going to be a mom. I always wanted to be a mom first before anything else.

It is hard not to live in fear when you have lupus. There are so many things that can go wrong. There is no rhyme or reason to any of it. You go through your days and live until you hear news of some illness spreading or some letter comes home from your child’s school reminding you the cold and flu season is here and what extra precautions to take. You get this news and you have to stop living, even if its for a split second while you think about how this impacts you, your family and your daily life. You have to think about things that most people never have to think about. It is not uncommon that I have to be put in reverse quarantine because if I get these illnesses, they can kill me as I have no immune system. To make matters worse, I cannot be vaccinated to even be able to give myself some form of immunity to some of them. There was one period where I was not allowed to leave my house, not even to go to the store for 2 months because I had 5 infections in as many weeks and the next one my doctor was afraid would be fatal. This always makes traveling scary as well. The last time I traveled my doctor actually said to me (and some may find this harsh but my doctor and I are very blunt with each other), “You better be careful or you will end up in a body bag.” All the what-ifs that go through your head. Is the vacation worth getting an illness that could become fatal? An illness that for most people would be nothing to recover from. Is the fatigue that is sure to occur worth it? But you cannot live your life in a bubble. You take these risks because you need to live. That does not stop the fear and doubt that crops into your brain every time you start to plan anything. And even so these thoughts may be short lived and they do not consume you (or at least you need to believe they are not consuming you), they are still there. The elephant becomes bigger.

And then comes relationships and the dread of forming real bonds with people. I feel a stupid sense of guilt when it comes to forming both romantic and platonic relationships. I am not talking about acquaintances here but real meaningful relationships. I do not want more people than abso
lutely necessary to suffer through this with me. It is unfair of me to ask that of them. And if they are truly close to me, suffer they will even so they do it willingly because they care for me and love me. It is very difficult for me to really open up to people and let them into this part of my life. Two reasons for this is because I do not want them to suffer emotionally as they have to watch helplessly while I go through a flair, and the other is because in the past the elephant in the room got so big, the relationships ended when finally they could no longer deal with. I am always afraid this will happen despite the fact I tell myself and others otherwise. I pretend I do not care and that I do not need anyone. When it is time to have “the talk” about the elephant, panic sets in. This is the moment where you can no longer ignore the elephant and you have to prepare the person who tells you they want to take a journey with you in life, “Guess what? I have this thing and well odds are that I will die before I am 60.” What a joyous conversation to have to have with someone who has told you they want to take a life journey with you. I have had this conversation more times than I want. Having it one time is more times than you want. Some have said (and in my mind at the time and now, very naively), “Yes I am capable of walking this road with you. I want to take a journey with you. Let us build a future together even if its a shorter future because you are worth it. Let us live in the now and not worry about the future.” Then when the battles with the elephant begin, they decide they do not in fact have what it takes and leave. I cry. I pick myself up. I tell myself it is okay because I knew this was a possibility. I move on. I trick myself into thinking I do not need or want deep relationships only for the next opportunity to present itself and the fear and panic to once again set in. I want the elephant to die. It is so draining to ignore it and so depressing to face it. Then when moments come up where it starts to stomp its feet and make noise, you wish you had a gun.

I have suffered with illness all of my life. I was diagnosed with my first auto-immune disorder when I was 6 (psoriasis). I have spent a lot of my life ill and spent many years misdiagnosed with a myriad of things (some of them were almost fatal) until finally I got some much needed answers when I was finally diagnosed with lupus. That diagnosis was a mixed blessing. On one hand, I had answers. On the other, possible death. I do my best to ignore the elephant. I do my best to live harmoniously with it and not let it depress me. For the most part I am cheery and grateful for the wonderful life I do have in spite of it. I do not take a single moment for granted and I have experienced and done some pretty cool things with my life. I have overcome so many obstacles that have been thrown in my path. I hope to be an inspiration to even just one person who suffers from any disease or chronic illness. I was fortunate enough to have two great women in my life growing up who dealt with chronic illness. They taught me that no matter how bad it may be, for someone else it could be worse and you do what you have to do to get through each moment. I look at it like a 12 stepper does, second by second if that is what it takes you to get through the day. You do whatever it takes to help people (even if its just a shoulder or by example). You do whatever it takes to get better even if there is no getting better. You know what, you can have a great life regardless. You are also allowed to have moments of anger and rage. There are moments (even if they are brief) that I rage against it. Periods where I stop seeing the doctors because all they tell me is we are giving you the best treatment we have at the moment and hopefully this will pass. There is never any hope when seeing the doctor. Periods where I stop taking my meds as they only offer 25% relief and what is the point of living if I am tied to drugs, doctors appointments and blood tests. Periods where I want to tell everyone close to me to go away because having me in their life will only bring them pain. Periods of depression. But I am human and I am entitled to these periods (even so I beat myself up over them and feel weak). Moments where I think why me? Something would be terribly wrong if I did not have these periods.

Today though is not a day to ignore the elephant. Today is a day of hope. Today is a day to look the elephant in the face and say, “AHA YOU SUCKER! After 50 long years we may finally have a gun. Not just a tranquilizer found accidentally while treating other illness but a real gun! It is time for you to leave the room forever.”

Looking back at my blog, I admit I am not as open and honest as I wanted to be, as I had hoped to be. However, I do hope for once I am not sorry for talking about the elephant. I hope that next time anyone is confronted with the elephant that they are not afraid to acknowledge it. I hope that next time someone tells you about this elephant, you may understand even a small fraction how your reactions to the elephant amplifies how extremely difficult it is for the person sharing that they indeed have this elephant living with them.

I hope…





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Lupus Relief Could Be Coming

July 20th, 2009
After 50 years (yes you read that correctly) there could be a new drug to treat lupus. I swear this is the best news I have heard in a very long time! It could be the best news ever! For me as of this moment it is the best news ever. The only way this news could get better is if this new drug is approved and it actually helps with my lupus. I so wish I could be part of the second trials. Lupus is such a difficult thing to live with.

For me, the most difficult aspect of the disease is that it is invisible. I can live with the chronic infections. I can live with the chronic inflammation of joints and tissue. I can live with the crap like having a stroke and needing a hysterectomy due to the disease. I can live with the chronic pain and the chronic fatigue. I can live with the cognitive impairments. I can live with the hair loss. I can live with never knowing one day to the next how I will feel or what system will be attacked next. The hard part is that people look at me and do not see a sick person, as outwardly I look healthy and I do a good job of hiding the war that is raging on inside of my body on a daily basis.

Those with lupus tend to be looked at suspiciously since most of the time they do not look sick. They get treated as if they are hypochondriacs by a lot of people, even those close to them who just cannot understand the difficulties of this disease. They get this treatment even from their own families. I remember after my hysterectomy my family saying hmmm well maybe there is something wrong with her. And then after my stroke a year later there was more hmmmmm I guess she wasn’t faking after all. And even after that and a few other major health crises, most people do not get it. There are maybe (and that is a big maybe) 3 people who do since it has affected them and their families directly. Lupus has also been the cause of a few failed relationships because they find it difficult to deal with health crisis after health crisis and my lack of ability to do a lot of things.

I am currently on a huge cocktail of medications that only work to a point. They give me about 25% relief from symptoms. I currently take 7 different medications. At one point it was 9 however I developed an allergy to one of them and the other treatment was way to painful to go through once a week. The pain of the treatment did not outweigh the benefits of said treatment. So for there to be a new treatment that may actually work for me (With lupus there is no set treatment. Doctors have to play a medication game since lupus affects everyone differently) and maybe just maybe drop my medication count that is beyond awesome! I was starting to lose hope when it came to lupus research since there has been nothing new in so long. This is so welcomed news to me and many other lupus sufferers.

Links to articles:

Google News links

Edit: Here is a great video.





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Waiting For The Night

July 19th, 2009
As I said earlier, inspiration FINALLY! I thought it would take me a lot longer to finish this editing project. In reality, it took no time at all. The longest part was scanning the movie for the images that floated through my head when I heard Depeche Mode’s Waiting For The Night.

I set the music to Labyrinth. Or maybe I set Labyrinth to the music. Labyrinth is in my top 5 favourite movies of all time. When I was younger, I use to dream quite often that the Goblin King would come and take me away. In my dreams though, it did not end like it did in the movie. I am actually very happy with the way this video turned out. When my youngest watched it, about half way through he said, “Leave the pretty lady alone STALKER!”

Enjoy!

(P.S. Sorry for the multiple posts of the same blog today. Getting this video hosted was more trouble than I thought it would be.)





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Inspired FINALLY!

July 18th, 2009
I have been lacking inspiration lately to create. It has been something that has been preoccupying my thoughts to no end. There was a time in my life where everything inspired me to create something. Whether it was written, on canvas, some silly little video, a piece of choreography, something to sew, something to craft, I always found the time and had inspiration to do these things. When I feel creative I feel productive. I have feeling as if my creative well had run dry. It has been very depressing as it is so much a part of who I feel I am. It is also a great reliever of stress and very important for my me time. Tonight my inspirational dry zone finally saw some much needed rain. The thirst to feel creative, never mind to create, has been quenched. I owe part of this down pour of creative thought in part to @CaptainTapole.

It all started off with the following banter back on twitter.
CT: My iPod is loving Depeche Mode and Rod Stewart this evening. I know, odd mixture.

Me: *sings* Put it on and don’t say a word. Put it on cause you think I’m sexy and you want my body come on sugar let me know.
CT: I knew it! You are seducing me so I can forfeit the Dance-Off. I’m onto you now, Missy.


(for more info on the Dance-Off, read this PAX2009 Juicy Goodness)


Me: *looking innocent” who? moi? *hides the horns holding up her halo* I would never do such a thing! *pinky to mouth*
CT: Yeeeeaaaahhhh. Uh-huh. I can see that red tail…
Me: That’s not a tail. That’s my whip.
CT: Ooo Honey. You know what I like.
Me: tee hee. Reach out and touch faith and by faith I mean that is my dom name for the night.

CT: *Points* I…yeah, no. So much to say there that will only end up having a love night with you.
It was sometime during that conversation that I decided to listen to Depeche Mode. More specifically, the album Violator. That is my most favourite Depeche Mode album. And then the song “Waiting For The Night” came on and suddenly I was hit with huge inspiration and images flying through my brain to create another one of these (for best effect watch in full screen mode. P.S. contains scenes of violence, nudity and sexual situation that may be objectional to some viewers):

It is not much but I am very proud of it. It is the first video of this sort that I created and I so loved doing it. It is the first thing I created where I did not repeatedly beat myself up over for little small mistakes that only I would notice. That I can myself watch over and over again without thinking “Oh dear why on earth did I ever think this was a good idea.” I have been wanting to make another one for a long time but have been lacking inpiration on all creative fronts.

Thank you @CaptainTapole and Depeche Mode for bringing on the rain. Here come nights of watching the same movie over and over again, writing down time indexes and editing. I feel restored!





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I See You Shiver With Antici…Pation

July 18th, 2009
At least I know I am. I have way too many things I am looking forward to at the moment. One of the more exciting things is I will be going away twice in as many weeks. Both trips I get to geek out with fellow geeks. The first trip will be more one on one geeking. The second trip I get to geek out with a community of 50,000+ and see some of my more favourite well known geeks live in action. The most exciting thing is I am going away. It would not matter if it involved geeky things or not. I haven’t had any form of vacation in almost two long years. I didn’t realize how much I need to get away from my day to day until quite recently as my trips have now become topic of daily discussion.

I am such a homebody and find great comfort in my home and family. I never feel tied down to my family. My children are a daily source of fun and humour. Sure I do not get to go out often (at least not in the past two years), however this was a very conscious decision. I firmly believe that one parent should be at home. It does not matter if it is the mom or the dad. Children need someone to come home to after school. Children need to know that a parent is always going to be there, someone they can rely on. I personally feel that many of today’s problems with children is because the computer, gaming console, DVD and the t.v. have become the babysitters, and the number of latch-key kids is increasing. Long gone are the days of family meals. Long gone are the days of family game night. Now are the days when children are pencilled into a schedule like one pencils in a doctor’s appointment. Unfortunately for many families, one stay-at-home parent is not a viable option. I am so extremely fortunate to have this option. There was a trade off that I decided long ago made it all worth while. I will be a mom first. That is my primary job. And when the year I turn 40, my children will be turning 17 and 21. 40 is a great age. You are still young enough to really enjoy life and by then (in theory) you have enough wisdom to have the fun of your youth without making the mistakes we once made while having that fun.

However, I also need me time. Everyone needs me time. Self care is so important. If you do not take care of yourself, you will not be able to effectively take care of those who rely on you. This important thing is something I forget to do way to often. I am so busy wearing a billionty-one hats that I lose sight of the me hat. And then I get a reminder (such as my up coming trips) of how depleted and how overstretched I have become. I would not give up any of my hats for the world. I just need to remind myself to put the me hat on more often and not give into stupid guilty or selfish feelings when I do so.

I use to be able to get away on a monthly basis. Then two years ago, certain family dynamics changed where my ability to go away a few days a month was no longer viable. The last trip I took, the last time I was away from my family here, was November of 2007. I went back East to Ontario to reunite with my dad, meet my two brothers I had not met yet (I had already met my one of them), meet my step-mom and visit friends I had not seen in a couple of years. It was a whirlwind of a trip and the most fun I had in a very long time. Aside from the family reunion, the following is one of my favourite stories from that trip. A little back story may be in order first.

I am a very quippy person. At times (read: most times), someone will say something, my brain instantly thinks of something quippy or cheeky to say and before I realize I am actually speaking it, it is spoken. Most of the time people understand that I am not being mean and that no harm is meant. There are times though (as I will soon illustrate) where this can get me into a lot of trouble. I entitle these stories “Only In The Life Of Jules”. They contain some language and some situations that could be rated PG13.

A couple weeks prior to my trip back East, I took a trip down to Seattle. As I was entering the States, the border guard asked me, “what is the purpose of your trip?” What immediatly popped into my head was, “to assassinate President Bush.” The word “to” came out of my mouth and my brain yelled at me, “SHUT UP! DO NOT SAY THAT! THEY WILL NOT FIND THE HUMOUR IN THAT YOU STUPID DUMBASS! BORDER PEOPLE DO NOT HAVE A SENSE OF HAHA” I panicked! All of a sudden I had no idea what to say. I had visions of me being hauled off by the FBI or CIA. Visions of the not good kind of cavity searches. Visions of being lost in transit. Visions of my passport being revoked.

So, I continued very hurriedly trying to erase the dumbass out of my brain only to become more dumbass, “To… to visit my boyfriend.” DOH! I do not have a boyfriend! WTF ARE YOU TRYING TO DO TO YOURSELF JULES! ARE YOU MENTAL?!?! The border guard looks at me sideways as he inspects my passport currently in his clutches. The passport that he can decide to flag at any moment should I say something stupid. I think to myself, “Self! He knows! FUCK!” He asks the next standard question, “When was the last time you saw him?” Well crap!

The reality of the situation was that I was going down to Seattle to meet a business associate whom I had talked to many many times over the last year or so but had never met in person. He had invited me down to hang out, show me a section of Seattle life and watch him perform. Self decides to beat me repeadly upside the brain as I reply, “Never.” Self to me, “You are such a twit! THIS IS WHEN YOU LIE!” Me t0 self, “SELF, you know I am no good at lying! Look at where it has gotten me right now! I am sorry! He is talking me into a corner, stupid tricky border guard guy.”

Border guard looking even more suspiciously at me and holding my passport closer to his body, “If you’ve never met him before, how did you meet?” Well, screw! How on earth do I answer that question without looking like some crazy person (Self: too late for that Jules) or creating more suspicion. Feeling completely defeated and worried that the jig is up, “Through work?” WTF, why did you answer that as if it were a question? That should have been a statement! You are doooomed! Some guy named Bubba is now going to make you his bitch!

Border guard closes my passport and starts typing stuff on his computer. Well now I am done for! Looking up over his monitor, “Does he know you are coming?” Repeatedly bashing my head against an invisible wall and sighing internally, “Yes.” The border guard resumes typing and without looking up asks, “Do you have an address and phone number for him?” YES! Finally something I can answer without panic! I give the guard the info he is wanting and he continues to type away. Self, “You are going to be lucky if they let you in!” Me: “Shut up Self! You are not helping!” Still busy at his computer, “When are you leaving the States?” I give him the date. “How are you leaving the States?” I tell him by bus. “When are you going to arrange to leave the States?” I tell him the return trip has already been booked. “Let me see the ticket.” I pass him the ticket and think “FUCK! Now he has BOTH my passport and tickets into the States and out of the States! You are sooooooooooooo screwed!” Handing me back my tickets and passport but still eyeing me with suspicion, “Have a good trip to Seattle.”

Now you would think I would learn something from that. Not likely. On my way back into Canada, the Canadian border guard asked me as he held my passport in his clutches, “Did you have a good trip?” Thank bob
! An easy question! “Yes.” Canadian border guard, “What was your business in the States?” The first thing that popped into my head was “I was smuggling some of B.C.’s finest bud into Seattle.” The words “I was” start to spew forth from my mouth. Self, “Jules you are beyond hope! You deserve to become Bubba’s bitch!” Me, “But self, this is a Canadian. They have a sense of haha.” Self, “IT IS A BORDER GUARD! THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FIND THESE THINGS FUNNY!” Well shit! Panic sets in once more as I speak, “I was… visiting a friend.” My heart raced. My brain swarmed with even worse images than when I entered the states. Luckily, without further question beyond the normal do you have anything to declare stuff, the guard passes me back my passport and says, “Welcome back to Canada.”

Let’s fast forward now a week. I am in Ontario. It is my first full day there. I stayed the first night at one friend’s house. The plan for my first full day (which was the start of my first full weekend), was that two of my friends were going to travel up from the States (from Indianna and Illinois) for a weekend of dinners, karaoke and drinking. I woke up that morning way too early and without showering or dressing (beyond wearing sweat pants, tank top, hoodie, and ballet type dress shoes) proceeded to another friend’s house where a bunch of us out of towners were crashing for the weekend. My first day was suppose to be a day of complete laziness after my long journeys the day before. It was suppose to be a day to adjust to the time change and get much needed rest before the month of craziness started.

We are all just hanging and relaxing when we get the following phone call from my friend Claudio, “You need to come down to Flint, Michigan. They won’t let me into Canada because of my DUI. They will let Tim in but you need to come and get him.” FRACK! I do not have clothes with me! They are being dropped off later! I do not even have a coat! I am not prepared to go anywhere in public today. So the friend that is allowing her house to be the crash pad for the weekend hands me this black and white (almost a la Cruella DeVille) fur coat that goes down to my ankles and says, “Here, wear this.” What a sight I was. Make-up not done. Hair not done. Sweat pants, hoodie, tank top, ballet type dress shoes and a fur coat. At least I had my passport, cell phone and knapsack with my meds.

Now when I was packing for my trip, one of the questions I asked was if I would need winterish type clothes since well… where I live we really do not have winter so I do not have real winter clothes. I was told that I will be fine. It never snows in Ontario in November, let alone the first week of November. Self did not believe this but I trusted my friends on this as they live there and should know the weather. Well this was November 8 and guess what. As soon as we left Mississauga, it was white-out conditions all they way to Michigan! As soon as it started to snow, the fits of laughter between us began. Today was not how it was suppose to be.

So imagine how even more silly we got when the following comment came out of my friend Nicole’s mouth minutes away from crossing the border, “Um guys. I just realized I have some hash in my purse and a hash pipe.” That is not what you want to hear minutes before entering the States in the intent of “smuggling” a friend back into Canada right after he was denied entry. All I could do was laugh hysterically. It was either laugh at the absurdity or cry. So we started to plot all kinds of different ways to hide the unwanted and be able to find it later. We visited a gas station to see if there was a drop ceiling in the bathroom we could hide it in and return there later to get it. Nope.

We sat in the car in the parking lot trying to figure out wtf we are going to do! This is so not cool. Then we noticed a graveyard across the way. AHA! We drove to the graveyard and found a plot way off in the back. We hid the unmetionables, took a picture of the grave so we would remember where it was put, thought of a story to tell any patrol people who may bother us in the middle of the night when we would return to pick it up and continues our journey into the States, now completely lost in fits of laughter. As we approached the border, I reminded everyone we need to calm down. I told them the story of my last adventure into the States and said if we are not cool, we are doomed. And whatever you do, DO NOT let me speak. We entered the States without incidence. WHEW!

We hung out in Flint for a few hours. We laughed. We ate. We told the story of our trip. We had a good time. And even so my friend Tim was coming back with us, I was very sad that my friend Claudio was being left behind. Now having a good time and having lots of laugh is normally a good thing, right? Well it is a good thing until you try and re-enter the country.

Everything was cool for the most part. They took a little extra longer checking our IDs as this was Tim’s second attempt to enter Canada in 24 hours. We were beyond punch drunk at this moment. Then the following question was asked, “Do you have any fruits, vegetables or meats to declare?” My friend Nicole points to my chest and said, “She has a couple of dried up prunes.” Then she grabs her breasts and said, “I have a couple of melons.” And then I proceeded to point to my friend Preston’s crotch and say, “And he has a banana in his pocket. He isn’t just happy to see you.” Border guard, “Please pull your vehicle over there so that we can inspect it.” DOH!

We pull the vehicle into the inspection area and are told to leave all of our belonging in the vehicle and proceed into that building. We cannot stop laughing and we really need to stop laughing. Our freedom is dependent on our ability to not laugh any longer. Well it is really hard not to continue laughing when we all realize what I am wearing and that we are now having to stand in a public place while being subjected to a trillionty-one questions. They watched us like hawks. They would not allow us to wonder off anywhere together. After an eternity of questions (was probably more like an hour) they handed us all back our IDs and told us we were allowed to come back into Canada. When we returned to the vehicle, my stuff was tossed every where. My med bottles were all over the back seat. My cell phone was open. Our cameras had been inspected! OMG there was incriminating photos! Hopefully they did not inspect our cameras too closely. They must not have because we are free! I had never been more happy to be allowed back into my country as I was at that moment. We drove back to the grave, took more pictures of us at the grave then headed back to Mississauga. It was the best first day of a trip ever! Epic even.

I just hope that when I enter the States again in 27 days that I do not get stupid over the excitement of the trip and proceed to once again insert foot in mouth.





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