Well You Know Some Days Are Aces And Some Days Are Faces Well Some Days Are 2's And 3's

Today is a 2. Well, maybe a 3. It is Friday and the sun is shining. Throw in a Canucks victory tonight and I might even bump today up to a 4.

Shawn and I had big plans to change our food habits (both in the eating and preparing department.) Big plans that were derailed by one night. One night following a bad day that resulted in both of us feeling cranky and unappreciated. The combination of cranky + unappreciated is a pernicious one, made especially deadly when both of us feel that way. We were both very shouty last night is what I'm saying.

My blog is not a place for me to write a list of Shawn's flaws (because clearly last night was all his fault) (*sarcasm*) but it is a place where I strive for honesty. I read some blogs that are all sunshine! rainbows! unicorns! happyhappyhappy! and I wonder how honest those bloggers are being. I mean, really? You never fight? Everything is always perfect? I'm not judging them I just feel ... inadequate. I'm judging myself, I guess. It's silly. Shawn and I are both fiery people. We fight. We also love each other. It's just hard to remember the love bit when in the midst of a heated discussion about whose turn it is to unload the damn dishwasher (ps: it was his turn. Who ended up unloading it? Me. Who dramatically sighed and huffed her way through the entire process? Also me. I'm not proud.)

Jennie wrote a post this week that really struck a nerve with me. This in particular really made me think: "Every day I want to be better. He may not do the dishes, but he deserves that much from me." Last night I did not try to be better. Last night I fought with gritted teeth and sharp words.

It's difficult, sometimes, to see the big picture. I get tangled up in the here and now and when the here and now is arduous (like it was last night) I tend to think that it will always be arduous. It takes effort to pull myself out of the mire so I don't. I sit and I stew and I prove myself right. It's ridiculous and laborious and if I could think of any more "ous" words I would write them here. Strenuous? Ludicrous? Hilarious? I think it's pretty safe to say that I don't really know where I'm going with this post at this point and I should just stop typing.

Happy Friday, peeps! I hope that your weekend is all happyhappyhappy! with lots of sunshine! rainbows! and unicorns!

PS: Go Canucks!

Nobody Said It Was Easy No One Ever Said It Would Be So Hard

Friday Faff: I Just Realized That It's Not Friday Edition

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Dudes. Dudes! Thank you all for being rockstars. When I get tangled up in my own head I tend to forget that I'm not the only person who feels this way. Anxiety can be so solitary, you know? Thanks for reminding me that we're all a bit crazy. I tried to respond to each comment but a few were "noreply-comment@blogger.com" so if you didn't get a reply from me: Thank you! You rock! Change your account settings so people can respond to your comments!

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Chicago eliminated Nashville from the Stanley Cup playoffs this week so Vancouver and Chicago are headed for a round two match up. I'd like to be excited but I'm too stressed. The Canucks played the Hawks in round two last year and the result was devastating. I'm trying to get into the spirit this year but the harshest smacktalk I can muster is "watch out Chicago, we're so going to ... rematch you. We're going to rematch you so hard. You should just quit now because when we're through rematching you there will be nothing left." Weak, I know. I've been a Canucks fan for too long; I've grown to expect disappointment.

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This morning I was listening to my iPod on shuffle when a song came on that I haven't listened to in years. It took my breath away. One minute I'm on the train trying not to stab the kid across from me who is playing a video game with the volume loud enough that I can hear it over my music (seriously, rush hour public transportation etiquette exists for a reason and if you refuse to abide by said etiquette, I reserve the right to stab you) and then all of a sudden I'm flooded by memories of my ex-boyfriend. Not good memories, either. Horrible, twisty memories of lying in his bed, listening to this song on repeat because he can't sleep without music playing softly, not sleeping because how can I sleep when our relationship (which at the time is my whole world (barf, I know)) is ending? This song represents a painful time in my life and I should probably just take it off my iPod completely but it really is a lovely song (The Scientist by Coldplay, in case anyone is wondering.) I'm always surprised when music affects me so deeply because usually scent is the sense that knocks me on my ass (whenever I smell the ex-boyfriend's cologne it's like a punch to the gut.)

I'm taking my iPod off shuffle is what I'm trying to say.

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Shawn and I have decided to upgrade to a king-sized bed. Our tiny bedroom doesn't really have space for a king-sized bed but we're not wee people (he is 6'3" and I am 5'8") so we're going to try to make it work. We need to get rid of a dresser to make room for the bed so we're hoping to find a bed with drawers in the base. So far we've only been able to find queen-sized beds with storage underneath; does anyone know of a kind-sized bed with drawers? We're pretty specific in what we need so I'm worried that we won't be able to find anything that suits us. Our dream bed is king-sized, has drawers in the base, doesn't cost a lot of money, and is low to the ground so I don't hurt myself when I fall out of bed or sleepwalk. Someone please tell me that this bed exists.

Turn Away While I Celebrate Will You Tolerate While I Waste The Day Away?

It wasn't a responsible decision, to go to a pub to watch the Canucks game on a Wednesday night, but it was a fun decision. The atmosphere was muted at the start but the back-and-forth momentum changes in the game soon had the entire pub whipped up into a hockey frenzy (upon reflection, I'll admit that the alcohol may have played a small role.) When the Canucks scored late in the 3rd and finally took the lead, the pub erupted in a cacophony of hoots and whistles that lasted until after the final horn.

I love hockey. I am a true fan - I root for my team when they're losing and I happily welcome back the bandwagon-jumpers when the team is winning. Tuesday's disallowed goal was ridiculous and I'll admit to unleashing a string of profanity when the call was made. That one call didn't lose the game for the Canucks, though, and the bitching and moaning that occurred afterward did nothing but make us look like poor losers. Last night's game was more than a chance for the Canucks to tie the series at two games apiece; it was a chance for the fans (whether long-term or short-term, steadfast or fickle, zealous or laid-back) to stop focusing on bad calls and conspiracy theories and just fucking celebrate. And celebrate we did. We stumbled home exchanging high-fives with random strangers, attempting to eat dirty pizza on the train, and laughing at the gems that came out of Shawn's mouth (my personal favourite: "Swedish power activate! I'm going to Ikea tomorrow.") (I guess that's only funny if you know that our top line consists of three Swedes. And that Shawn hates Ikea more than, well, anything.)

This morning I woke up with an inexplicably sore foot, a bruise on my wrist, a hangover that rivals my worst hangover ever, and a brother-in-law asleep on our couch. So no, it was not a responsible decision by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a decision I don't regret. Not even a little.

Now will someone please make me a baked potato and some tea? I'm pretty sure that a baked potato and tea are the only things that will keep me from dying this morning.

Pull This Blanket Off Of Me

Friday Faff: Scattered (well, more scattered than usual) Thoughts Edition

I haven't faffed in a while and there are approximately a billion thoughts bouncing around in my head so here we go.

I have an appointment at a sleep disorder clinic this morning. Not a sleep disorder clinic, the sleep disorder clinic. I feel so much pressure - should I not be drinking coffee right now so that I'm not coherent when I go to the appointment? Should I not wear eye makeup so that I look extra sleepy? I am fretting. I thought that this appointment meant that I was accepted into the program but it just means that I passed the initial review process. Wish me luck!

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I forgot to post about my April resolution but I have been sticking to it. March's resolution was frustrating and vague. "Make better choices" was the stupidest, most frustrating, completely unsatisfying resolution I could make. How can you win that resolution? You can't, which is why my April resolution is to not buy a single prepared coffee. I can win that resolution. I will win that resolution. There is a shameful coffee admission to go along with April's resolution but it's a story for another day.

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The Canucks won last night's game against the LA Kings. It was only the first game of the first round of playoffs but I was a complete stressball. The energy in Vancouver is awesome but it's a nervous energy. If you've been a Canucks fan for any length of time you understand why. Things can go very badly very quickly for the Canucks.

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I was buying dog food the other day and I saw pet Snuggies in the clearance bin. It took an amazing amount of restraint to not buy the pet Snuggies. I kind of regret it. Should I go back and buy the pet Snuggies? My dogs' lives can only be enriched by the addition of blankets with sleeves, right?

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Happy Friday, peeps!

With A Twelve Pack From 12th & Porter With Billy 4:30am At Night

Dear Lovely Peeps Who Commented On Yesterday's Angsty Post,

Thank you for your kind words and suggestions. I was lost in my own head yesterday and you helped me find my way back out. You rock, dudes.

Love,
Trying To Be Less Crazy

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Dear Stella,

I'm sorry for not realizing it was your 2nd birthday yesterday until Facebook told me. Also, happy birthday!

Love,
The Lady Who Feels Guilty Even Though She Realizes That You Don't Even Know It Was Your Birthday

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Dear Wolfgang,

Thanks for the 4:30 wake up call this morning, buddy. Was it really necessary to continue to whine for half an hour after I took you out for a pee and gave you a drink of water and a handful of biscuits?

Sincerely,
The Lady Who Wants To Punch You

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Dear Shawn,

You didn't get up because you didn't hear Wolfgang? Really? Really?

Sincerely,
The Lady Who Really Wants To Punch You

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Dear A Most Wanted Man By John Le Carre,

Please do not end.

Love,
The Lady Who Is Attempting to Pace Herself

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Dear Ryan Johnson,

Watching you plow into the boards during last night's hockey game was horrifying; I cried when they wheeled you off the ice on a stretcher. I am very happy that you are going to be okay.

Love,
A Hockey Fan Who May Be A Tad Too Emotionally Invested In Her Canucks

If My Team Loses I'll Be Mean All Night If You Tell Me To Relax We'll Get In A Fight

I promise I will stop bitching about Shawn's motorcycle ... soon. I'm sure we'll find our way to a compromise. For now, though, we're stuck in knowing that our own position is completely valid and reasonable, and knowing that each other's position is just as valid and reasonable, and not knowing where to go from there. Thank you for your comments on yesterday's post; it is helpful for me to hear that people can die from boring, everyday-type activities and not just risky activities. I tend to forget that in all my fretting about reckless drivers.

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Tonight is the Canucks season opener and words cannot express my excitement. I'll be watching the game at the 2 Parrots (which provides a prime hockey-viewing environment.) Puck drops in 6 hours. Gongshow to promptly follow.

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To round out this post of randomness, I want to know what brand / type of mascara you wear. I am in the market for a new supermarket (read: cheap-ish) mascara and am overwhelmed by all the choices. The last one I tried was Covergirl Lash Blast and I found it very clumpy.