Wearing the friendship pants

Roger left Calgary late October 2007. It was a sad day for me, him moving away. It was pretty much awful and kindof broke my heart in a way. Sitting there in the audience for his farewell concert was one of the hardest things I have done as I was barely keeping it together. He's been my great friend for so many years, the only one who really pushes my creativity and reminds me constantly what I have forgotten artistically with my writing.

We had drifted apart a bit in 2007, I had eye surgery and didn't tell him until a couple of months later when he called me close to my birthday. Our schedules didn't jive enough to see each other except twice socially and three of his concerts. Clear reason to show that I work too much.

I left him alone, gave him time to settle in, wrote him a couple of letters and realized that now it's near the end of April and I hadn't heard from him. Six months, half a year. Rather than waiting for the phone call or return letter that never came, I called him today. He was pleasently suprised to hear from me. It was so good to talk to him again, even though he touched on the fact that his BC experience has not really lived up to what he was expecting. He couldn't really talk about it since there were other people in the room, but he found that where he is seems very similar to Calgary with all the hustle and bustle. I think he was looking for something calmer, more artsy. His guilt got the best of him and he told me he was a bad friend, not calling me, but I forgave him and told him that one of us has to wear the friendship pants sometimes. I still really miss him.

Little Birdie Kisses

Sunday Shell and I went to the Pet Expo at the Big 4 Building. I brought a Safeway tote with me because I knew I was going home with major samples and goodies. Quincy couldn't get to the bag fast enough when I got home. One of the samples of food gave him wicked gassy grossness though...threw the remainder out and gave him back his normal stuff. He did like the brown bagged liver cookies though.

We went around, gathered samples etc. and I entered a contest from one of the pet insurance companies for a Flames jersey. Guess what?? I WON IT!!! The nice lady from there dropped it off at my house today. I'm sporting it now, cheering on our beloved Flames to victory..although at current writing they are tied in the second period.

The highlight of the day was holding a green little birdie (not sure what kind it was, some type of parrot..) like a baby and scratching it's little head. She then hopped on my shoulder and was giving me birdie kisses! So cute! Now, I'm not exactly afraid of birds, but as Shell has noted in her blog, I remember a time I went to her house and one of her lovebirds Blue took a fairly large chunk out of her skin. The site of blood kindof turned me off all birds. They are pretty and I've seen some interesting bonds between people and birds, but to have them fly around me or land on me, take chunks out of my face or poo on me has never been a thrill. But I get it now. The "person" that belonged to this bird had such a trust with her that I realized that no matter what kind of pet you have, the love is unconditional.

Herb Garden

I'm thinking about growing some lavender. At work. Yes, at work. Since I own not a hint of a plant at home, I figure I can accomplish three things:

1. Grow some lovely lavender that looks pretty and brings a bit of colour to my sea of greenery at my desk.
2. Grow something that's supposed to calm nerves.
3. Grow some herbs that apparently I can try to use in cooking. I hear you can make sugar cookies with lavender that are pretty tasty. What an interesting cookie that would be!

Hey, a girl's gotta try anything to relieve stress right? Now where can I get me some lavender seeds?

PS Here's the latest picture of Mr. Quincy with his new Lambikins, a present from my step mother. He sleeps with it every night. And it squeeks!

Effectively Quit..sort of kind of.

Today I made a big decision, I reduced my hours at my second job so much that I effectively quit..sort of. I will still work a few Epcor events, and the occasional Saturday, but my working four nights per week is done. Finished. Finito. Done. Gonzo. Katputskies. Sort of. I still have the nightmare called February to deal with, but it's a short month, and I intend to mark big red X's on each day until it's over. They say March is the cruelest month, but my plan for March is a CELEBRATION! Party at my house! Bring pasta!

Reducing my stress levels and regaining my mental clarity are far more important than the little extra money this job is giving me. I cannot remember the last time I:

1. Read a book
2. Bought a CD
3. Spent a Saturday with a friend
4. Had any significant time with Quincy that I wasn't sleeping?
5. Wrote
6. Did any crafts
7. Cleaned my house

I'm so tired these days that when I do get a rare day off, all I want to do is sleep. What kind of living is that?

Proud of me? I'm sure Mr. Squishypants is. And I'm sure I'll still have enough money to keep him in cookies.