Wednesday, February 24, 2010

I Told You I Was Freaky.

I had a dream last night that I met the love of my life.

I'm not sure where we were - it might have been a pub or a restaurant. I can't tell you what he looked like, either.

Still, when he absent-mindedly started humming the Beach Boys' "Heroes and Villains," and I started singing along, we made beautiful harmony together.


So... I'm sure that's just how it's gonna go down.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Decisions, Decisions.

I got the second season of Flight of the Conchords for my birthday. It's the gift that keeps on giving (me chills).

It has given me a moment of clarity about my personality, though! This doesn't happen very often to someone as self-unaware as I am, so it's really made an impression.

I don't have to choose which one of the Conchords I like best.







Realizing this was a big deal, because I have been troubled by this for some time. That there was a third choice that was not Jemaine (l) or Bret (r) has blown my mind a little bit.






My gut instinct tells me Bret is my favourite. It all adds up: moppish curls, beardy, slight build, heavy uke involvement, high, pretty voice...



But then when I watch the two of them, Jemaine, all lips, refrigerator-shaped and side-burned does something to me. Plus, he plays the uke, too: check out this clip.



Well, needing to know which is my favourite and not being able to settle has been frustrating me for years. It's all part of my obsessive need to have taxonomies of my life. I understand the appeal of this practice, like the character Rob in "High Fidelity," who uses lists of music to organise his thoughts. I get a little thrill when my mind settles on a list or a "best" or a "my favourite." It's quantifiable, and I enjoy thinking about my reasoning for my choices.

Anyhow, the big epiphany is that I don't have to do that. What a relief.

Personal growth!

Nerd.

Sunday, February 07, 2010

Headache, Fever, And A Chill.

I'm usually very robust, health-wise. I rarely get more than the sniffles or a good cough. Last year's run-in with Norwalk was very out of the ordinary. My sister is the opposite - she's always had a more "delicate constitution," as I enjoy reminding her.

On Tuesday, February the 2nd, I started getting a bit of a sore throat. I thought it was because I was rehearsing too much for a couple of songs I was going to perform at the uke jam the next night.

That night my fever was 101F. Sweats, chills, aches, and the sensation of fiery flambeaux being crammed down my throat upon swallowing ensued. I figured it was either a mild flu or some sort of virus.

My temperature vacillated between normal and 100F, and smoothies and pudding became my friends. Tylenol made me a little more comfortable, but didn't ease the pain in my throat, which was the main concern.

On the night of the 4th, I was dreaming up a storm. After waking from a particularly gory one (documented below), I was delirious and gave in to a bout of loud crying. I was half asleep, so couldn't reason with myself to stop, but one of my roommates heard it and she thought I was laughing. "I'm never going to get better! I'm going to have a sore throat for the rest of my life!" Wow. It was pathetic. Funny, but pathetic.

On Friday, the 5th, I was spending another night of interrupted sleep, ruminating on the pressure in my ears. As a child, I had a lot of ear infections, and I was afraid that I didn't have a virus in my throat, as I assumed, but it was instead bacterial and it might be spreading to my ears. Nightmare scenarios of hearing loss feverishly taunted me, so I hauled my sticky corpse out of bed, had a 2am shower, and got a cab up to Outpatients. I was there for 3 hours, only to confirm that it is a virus, but it had spread from my throat up my Eustachian tubes and were causing pressure behind my eardrums.

The doctor was nice enough to tell me I'd done the right thing, coming to Outpatients, which I really needed to hear. She said she could prescribe me some painkillers since over-the-counter stuff wasn't cutting it, but I told her my instinct was to let this run its course, and she said that was a good plan. Again, reassuring in my state at 6am while invisible Amazonian ants feasted on my throat.

I started coughing yesterday, which was kinda ok. At least something's moving. I remember that phlegm means something is healing, so now that it's appeared, I'm oddly pleased.

Anyhow, today, it's the first day in 5 that my throat is better. I now have a very sexy case of conjunctivitis, though. Nice. Look on the bright side: it's only in one eye!

I have had to cancel:
- a breakfast outing with a friend
- going to theme song theme night at the uke jam
- volunteering at VoicePrint
- beer with an old friend
- a birthday party
- donating platelets
- going to a fund raiser cabaret show
- dinner with Mare

Movies I've watched:
- The Matchmaker
- (500) Days of Summer
- I Love You, Man
- Stop Loss
- Sleepless in Seattle
- Word Play
- In The Loop
- Stone of Destiny
- half of Pride and Prejudice (BBC)
- half of season one Flight of the Conchords

Awesome feverish dream I had:
I am a zombie with a sore throat, bald and scabby, and all I want to do is spread my illness to others. I have an awesome and gross ability to spray a tarry substance that looks like ink and baked beans from my mouth. I'm running down a victim*, slavering with my need to infect her, and she abruptly turns around with her palm in my face. "Stop!" she sternly says. I stop short, shrug, and wander off, convinced. My analysis is: this is a dream of a feverish daughter of an epidemiologist whose Canadian politeness extends to her subconscious.

*Sorry, Simon; it would appear I am a 28 Days Later-style zombie, not the classic lumberer.