Last night I met up with a group of pals from Good-Wooden Leg. Two of them asked me if I still posted on my blog. "Um, well, I've slowed down quite a bit," I said. See, life in love is kind of boring. I mean, it's great, just not terribly bloggable, I find. Or maybe I'm just lazy. Anyway, today I am going to blog an update about my orthodontic journey.
So I had an appointment this morning. It was long. I think the girl maybe was new. I now have a super sore mouth and because they moved some stuff around in there, I have developed a lisp. I have a lisp and my boyfriend's name is Stephen. Guess what Stephen's favourite thing in the whole wide world is to do? Make fun of me. Stop it, Stephen. Sufferin succotash, stop it and pass me the soup so I can sooth my sore teeth.
Pouting aside, at the end of the 2.5 hour teeth-moving ordeal, I had an end date set! As things are today, my appointment to get my braces off my teeth is Monday, April 7, 2014. Everything wonderful is coming together to happen within a two week period. Here are the notes from my daytimer:
March 23--Anniversary of my first date with Stephen
March 28--Stephen's birthday
March 31--Stephen and Jill depart for Palm Beach, FL for a spring break get-away
April 5--Officially, 1 year of "going steady" for "Stillian".
April 7--Jill eats apples, carrot sticks, popcorn, corn on the cob and curry!
Friday, January 31, 2014
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Accept the fact that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue
Today will not go down as my favourite day ever. It could be one of my longest ones though as I greeted it at 1:30 this morning. I tried to send it back to sleep but to no avail. Knowing that you will go to work with three hours of shut eye in the bank isn't the best way to start things off.
The news on the radio said highway conditions were poor with blizzard-like conditions (possibly official blizzard conditions, my memory is fuzzy on the exact details.) I first thought of The Beefcake Boyfriend as he has to drive outside the city about 20 minutes to get to work. I waited until what seemed like a sensible hour (6:30) to text him a good luck with the drive message. I chose my words carefully so as not to imply that I didn't think he could manage the drive, just that I hoped it went well. I've read Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus. I know that you don't tell a guy you doubt his abilities. And I'm a PR girl, so ambiguous yet positive messages are my bread and butter.
"No work today!" he wrote back. His workplace closed due to the conditions. On three hours of sleep it's a big challenge to dig deep and pull up happiness for my love's luck. I dug. I found it. It didn't taste very good coming out, but it was genuine.
From there the day continued to take a gentle but steady tumble. I submitted my expenses for payment and one receipt was rejected for not being a receipt.
"This isn't a receipt," the cashier said.
"But it says receipt," I said. It even said it in two places. How much more receipt-y could it get?
"But it doesn't say on here that you paid. It only says what the total amount was. It needs to show paid with a balance of zero. Did you order this item from the Internet?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, we see this all the time. Just contact the vendor and ask them to send you the paperwork."
I was expecting $87 back. I got zero because of that one "non" receipt. I've plead my case to the Internet and am holding my breath. I've been advised I may have to do this for two business days.
More antics from other grumbly people ensued. Details not really important here. But this afternoon came with a small ray of sunshine.
On Tuesday I was in a meeting. One of my co-workers was about 10 paces ahead of me leaving the room. I was looking down and saw a twenty dollar bill flutter to the floor. I picked it up and wondered if it had fallen out of the coat pocket of my colleague. She was hoofing it out the door to get home to her kids so I couldn't catch her. I emailed her when I got to my desk to ask if she had lost $20. I hoped it was hers and not some other hospital visitor's, perhaps someone who really couldn't afford to lose $20. I also hoped that the security camera didn't judge me for picking it up. I wanted to go up to it and explain my planned attempt to reunite the funds with its proper owner. If it didn't belong to my co-worker, plan B would be to donate it to the hospital anyway.
Today I heard back from my co-worker.
I did lose 20$, got stuck in the parking lot and used my husbands visa to get out, lol. Thanks so much for you honesty.
Are you paying attention, Karma? I did something nice. Yah. It's really not like me to be nice, I know, so how about a little encouragement to do it again? What's that? Two business days to process? Sounds good. Thanks.
The news on the radio said highway conditions were poor with blizzard-like conditions (possibly official blizzard conditions, my memory is fuzzy on the exact details.) I first thought of The Beefcake Boyfriend as he has to drive outside the city about 20 minutes to get to work. I waited until what seemed like a sensible hour (6:30) to text him a good luck with the drive message. I chose my words carefully so as not to imply that I didn't think he could manage the drive, just that I hoped it went well. I've read Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus. I know that you don't tell a guy you doubt his abilities. And I'm a PR girl, so ambiguous yet positive messages are my bread and butter.
"No work today!" he wrote back. His workplace closed due to the conditions. On three hours of sleep it's a big challenge to dig deep and pull up happiness for my love's luck. I dug. I found it. It didn't taste very good coming out, but it was genuine.
From there the day continued to take a gentle but steady tumble. I submitted my expenses for payment and one receipt was rejected for not being a receipt.
"This isn't a receipt," the cashier said.
"But it says receipt," I said. It even said it in two places. How much more receipt-y could it get?
"But it doesn't say on here that you paid. It only says what the total amount was. It needs to show paid with a balance of zero. Did you order this item from the Internet?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, we see this all the time. Just contact the vendor and ask them to send you the paperwork."
I was expecting $87 back. I got zero because of that one "non" receipt. I've plead my case to the Internet and am holding my breath. I've been advised I may have to do this for two business days.
More antics from other grumbly people ensued. Details not really important here. But this afternoon came with a small ray of sunshine.
On Tuesday I was in a meeting. One of my co-workers was about 10 paces ahead of me leaving the room. I was looking down and saw a twenty dollar bill flutter to the floor. I picked it up and wondered if it had fallen out of the coat pocket of my colleague. She was hoofing it out the door to get home to her kids so I couldn't catch her. I emailed her when I got to my desk to ask if she had lost $20. I hoped it was hers and not some other hospital visitor's, perhaps someone who really couldn't afford to lose $20. I also hoped that the security camera didn't judge me for picking it up. I wanted to go up to it and explain my planned attempt to reunite the funds with its proper owner. If it didn't belong to my co-worker, plan B would be to donate it to the hospital anyway.
Today I heard back from my co-worker.
I did lose 20$, got stuck in the parking lot and used my husbands visa to get out, lol. Thanks so much for you honesty.
Are you paying attention, Karma? I did something nice. Yah. It's really not like me to be nice, I know, so how about a little encouragement to do it again? What's that? Two business days to process? Sounds good. Thanks.
Monday, December 23, 2013
I am not very good at quiet
There was nothing soft about this Monday morning. It greeted me at four am with gnawing, relentless stomach cramps that did not let up before it was time to leave my bed. When the radio woke up at 5:45 I fumbled at trying to find the stereo remote to quickly shut the noise off so the vacationing person in the bed with me would be minimally disturbed. Having been wide awake with a to do list running through my head for the last 75 minutes, I easily rose out of bed. Using my iPod as a flashlight, I grabbed some clothes out of my closet and drawers, pulled the bedroom door closed behind me, and left quiet behind.
I am not very good at quiet. Or rather it seems that when I try hardest to maintain silence, noise escapes everywhere. Of course I had to have an omelette this morning, which required going into the drawer at the bottom of the stove for a frying pan. Of course the entire house had to smell like a polish diner because I had to have onions in my omelette. Of course my chair had to squeak. Of course the empty beer cans on the floor, in the pile meant for recycling, had to topple like bowling pins into the empty salad container. Twice.
Of course the door had to slam shut when I went out to shuffle vehicles in the driveway. Stephen said once that he will not look at a house for us without a garage. I think he'd rather clip a gorilla's toenails than have to brush snow off his vehicle in the morning. In an attempt to keep our options open, I may have said that we could consider a home with a single car garage and that I would play valet in the mornings to take Truck out and put his vehicle in, snow swept and everything. This morning I got a taste of how that would go. It's a production, let me tell you.
When I was done I sat down and wrote Stephen a good morning note. The pen didn't write smoothly so I pressed it hard to the pad of paper as I filled it words like thank you, dreamy, hope and love.
When it was time for me to go, I tip-toed into the bedroom where he was waiting for me, awake. I found his chest and put my head to his heart. I was careful to dangle my snowy shoes off the edge of the bed, saving the white duvet from winter grit.
"Hello smokey bear," he said and wrapped an arm around me.
"I don't want to go to work this morning," I said to him.
"I don't blame you."
I listened to his heart beat. I told him his ticker sounded good, and honestly I did listen to a few beats carefully before I said this. I don't know what makes me think I am an expert on "tickers" and how they should sound, but it seems that that was the most loving, eloquent sentiment I could manage in the moment. Perhaps later, to return the expression of love, he will comment on how brilliant and healthy the whites of my eyes are looking.
I am not very good at quiet. Or rather it seems that when I try hardest to maintain silence, noise escapes everywhere. Of course I had to have an omelette this morning, which required going into the drawer at the bottom of the stove for a frying pan. Of course the entire house had to smell like a polish diner because I had to have onions in my omelette. Of course my chair had to squeak. Of course the empty beer cans on the floor, in the pile meant for recycling, had to topple like bowling pins into the empty salad container. Twice.
Of course the door had to slam shut when I went out to shuffle vehicles in the driveway. Stephen said once that he will not look at a house for us without a garage. I think he'd rather clip a gorilla's toenails than have to brush snow off his vehicle in the morning. In an attempt to keep our options open, I may have said that we could consider a home with a single car garage and that I would play valet in the mornings to take Truck out and put his vehicle in, snow swept and everything. This morning I got a taste of how that would go. It's a production, let me tell you.
When I was done I sat down and wrote Stephen a good morning note. The pen didn't write smoothly so I pressed it hard to the pad of paper as I filled it words like thank you, dreamy, hope and love.
When it was time for me to go, I tip-toed into the bedroom where he was waiting for me, awake. I found his chest and put my head to his heart. I was careful to dangle my snowy shoes off the edge of the bed, saving the white duvet from winter grit.
"Hello smokey bear," he said and wrapped an arm around me.
"I don't want to go to work this morning," I said to him.
"I don't blame you."
I listened to his heart beat. I told him his ticker sounded good, and honestly I did listen to a few beats carefully before I said this. I don't know what makes me think I am an expert on "tickers" and how they should sound, but it seems that that was the most loving, eloquent sentiment I could manage in the moment. Perhaps later, to return the expression of love, he will comment on how brilliant and healthy the whites of my eyes are looking.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
One Day Very Soon
Last night after I blogged I thought to myself, Jillian, you should tell Stephen you miss him. It's nice to be missed. Don't you like knowing when you are missed? So I told him in a text message that I missed him and not just because I wished someone was there to make me tea. And then he sent me words that Hallmark couldn't have improved upon:
"It was funny I was thinking the same thing not too long ago. How I'd like to take care of you when you're sick. One day very soon baby."
And even though he's such a nice guy I had to go girl it up by telling him if he was with me I'd make him watch the girly movie, Blue Crush, which I'd just happily found on the Game Show channel, of all places.
Oh Jillian. Just let him love you.
"It was funny I was thinking the same thing not too long ago. How I'd like to take care of you when you're sick. One day very soon baby."
And even though he's such a nice guy I had to go girl it up by telling him if he was with me I'd make him watch the girly movie, Blue Crush, which I'd just happily found on the Game Show channel, of all places.
Oh Jillian. Just let him love you.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
I love you tutu
Even though I am in love, I still seek to learn more about what love is, where it comes from and how it works. I saw The Tutu Project's video through Facebook today and it warmed my heart.
When his wife, Linda was diagnosed with cancer, Bob went into what he described as "self-therapy mode" and turned to photography to help him deal with painful new reality. His subject was himself wearing only a tutu, shot in locations across the globe. The photos made Linda laugh and feel uplifted.
When his wife, Linda was diagnosed with cancer, Bob went into what he described as "self-therapy mode" and turned to photography to help him deal with painful new reality. His subject was himself wearing only a tutu, shot in locations across the globe. The photos made Linda laugh and feel uplifted.
“Oddly enough, her cancer has taught us that life is good, dealing with it can be hard, and sometimes the very best thing — no, the only thing — we can do to face another day is to laugh at ourselves, and share a laugh with others.”
Love isn't always expressed in words. It's not always delivered with softness, compassion and warmth. Sometimes it's even more endearing when it's not so poetic. Sometimes love is a pink tutu.
My birthday this year was very different from any birthday I'd ever had before. This time I had a date for it. Stephen took me out for dinner to a place in the city I'd had my eye on for a while. It was supposed to be the most romantic dinner spot in Winnipeg. Inside the place sparkled with white Christmas lights and a whimsical shoe theme. It was so me. I had gotten my suitcase back so I was able to wear the dress I'd purchased for the evening. I also even brought The Betseys out. I only wish I'd gotten some pictures of the night. I took a few of the decorations but they didn't turn out well. I really wanted one of Stephen and I together, all dressed up and happy. My first birthday date. I know, so high school.
After dinner we came home and Stephen locked me in the bathroom. Well, okay, I busied myself in there brushing my teeth and touching up my makeup while he set up my birthday gift spectacle. When I came out the lights were all off except for five birthday candles lit on five of 24 birthday cupcakes that Stephen had baked and frosted all himself. The little cakes were fluffy white with rainbow chips and white frosting, my favourite. They were all different sizes and some rose in a lopsided fashion but they were pure Love with a candle on top. That was his pink tutu for me.
Last night we were supposed to get together to go to Costco and then decorate my Christmas tree. I was annoyed when I learned that hockey game traffic would delay my love's arrival. While at the super warehouse, the boy decides it is fun to swat me with his mitts and call me puffy because I was wearing my Kenny from Southpark winter jacket. It's no cupcake, and what girl wants to have her guy call her puffy, but I think this is a tutu moment too. (I am an eternal optimist.) Tonight I am home solo, nursing a cold and I wish the mitt-swatter was here (not just because I really wish someone would make me some tea right now). It's just kind of quiet sometimes when he's not around and somehow that makes me even grumpier than I usually am. My grumpiness is usually wearing a tutu. I hope he can see that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)