For someone who has an extraordinarily low tolerance for structure, I’m really missing my normal routine. It may not actually be the routine I’m missing, but the space? I miss my home. My jogs in the woods. Greg and Cleo. The quiet time I need to keep busy and sane.
I haven’t had much time to myself in more than two weeks and I’m starting to go a little Dr Jekyl on my usual, though admittedly quirky, Mr Hyde. On top of that, though I’ve kept the Twitter at my side, I’m feeling out of touch with all of you. So help me keep my sanity, hey? Drop me a note in the comments and tell me about something creative that’s got your brain buzzing, or tell me a story.
Ok, here’s that catch-up. Dear, bulleted list, it’s been so long.
- My father’s surgery was a great success. The wonders of modern medicine! The feats surgeons can perform laparoscopically! Anyway, he’s a little lighter in the internal-organ department, and there’s no sign of cancer. My parents got to meet the principle investigator on some studies that are funded in large part by the Lustgarten Foundation, which is pretty cool. We’re all feeling very thankful for those studies, and for the opportunity my dad’s had to receive early screenings for pancreatic cancer. He may deny that while he sits in his uncomfortable crankypants recovering from surgery, but in a few days I imagine he’ll be climbing ladders to sing it from rooftops. Tevye, watch out.
- Speaking of the Lustgarten Foundation, the Pancreatic Craftacular is going strong! Twenty crafty business are donating proceeds, and I’ve heard from some who have been very touched by the notes they’ve been receiving from customers who have been touched by pancreatic cancer. I’m touched, too, by the stories and by our community in general. In my imagination, I’ve been hugging you every day is week. Also, keep your eye on this here blog for a nifty blog event coming up.
- I love Montreal. Love love love. Being there at this particular point in my life highlighted for me the growing discontents I’ve been brewing about Vancouver. After a very long honeymoon period in my lovely city, I’ve come around to agree with what pretty much every non-native I’ve ever met has said about the place: The people are friendly, but they’re really hard to get to know. I want to grab Vancouver by the shoulders and tell it to lighten up. To chill out. To laugh, dammit, and do it a little louder. Vancouver may have that west-coast, outdoorsy vibe that presents the illusion of people being chill. But really, there’s an undercurrent of intensity that isn’t actually very welcoming. It’s intimidating. And I think that’s dumb. Montreal has a vitality (dare I say it has that je ne sais quoi) that’s contagious. Maybe I’ll try to be more French when I get home. I’m sure it’ll break through that British stoicism if I start kissing everyone I greet. I’ll end this rambling now, but be prepared for more musings about it as I ponder and explore.
- The wedding in Montreal was about the happiest, danciest, loviest wedding I’ve ever been to. I danced in four-inch heels till well after midnight, and ten days later the balls of my feet are only now beginning to feel normal again. Good times. Want glam? Ok.
- I want to punch Tom Robbins and his stupid, self-indulgent clever sentences in the face. I spent two weeks trying to read Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, and eventually had to take a deep breath and give up. I want to know what happens to those lovable characters, but not enough to slog through those damn words. This is a book better off tweeted, one cutesy clever sentence at a time.
- My brother and I went to Baltimore Comic-Con last weekend (this was before we started hurling insults at each other, which is what happens three days into every visit). It was RAD. I met Joel from Hijinks Ensue, fell in love with David Mack (his work, his work, which has nothing to do with him being totally sweet and also adorable), and otherwise had a blast in a room filled with costumed people young and old.
Okey dokey. I wrote half of this on my laptop and half on my iPad and who knows how disjointed and poorly laid put it is.