Speed Trials

There is no picture to today’s post, though I took some. I had a real blog-worthy day today: I made it out to the community garden today, I wiled away some time sipping a coffee at Bridgehead, I made a great apple crisp, and I bought a second hand copy of Summer Sisters and Gone With The Wind. But I’m not going to write about any of it. Today was one of those great days off, but I won’t be posting about how wonderful springtime is or any of that gak. There is something else on my mind, that is bothering me today, and has cast a dark cloud over everything else.

I was dog tired all day. Like really tired. I couldn’t keep my head up very well, like my neck wasn’t strong enough or something. I was cold too, yes, but that’s more about the furnace being on the fritz than anything else. But my belly. Ugh. My stupid, dumb ass, what-the-hell-is-WRONG-with-you belly. I hate my stomach. My guts. I hate them.

I actually lost my mind a little bit during my Sunday morning run. I was feeling really stretched through the midsection, like something hard and devastating had squeezed its way into my abdomen, and it really did not fit. I started yelling at myself. Right there on Preston Street, I started yelling at this stupid body of mine that I hated so much. It was bad. When I got home, I sat on my back deck for quite a while, crying my eyes out, not knowing what to do anymore. The cry made me feel a lot better. It was followed by a series of jaw-dislocating yawns. Always, so tired.

I had my first BM in eight days today. This cannot go on. I know that these extreme episodes are getting fewer and farther between, but still, there is no reason for anyone who actively pursues a healthy lifestyle to hold that kind of waste in their body for that length of time. I keep going around in circles in my mind: why is this happening? What am I doing? What am I not doing? should I stop eating meat? Should I eat more fish? I need an enema. I’m not going down that road again. But It’s different now. It always goes back to the same.

The Metamucil “treatment” has been the most affective, it’s true, but it’s still not working WELL. Like with everything else, it was affective for the first little while, and I got really encouraged, but now, even though I’ve upped my dosage, I’m no longer as regular as I had been when I first started using it. And this last week has been just brutal.

So what do I do?? Extreme Times call for Extreme Measures, right? No, no, no, no, no more extreme treatments. No more fasting; no more restrictive diets. No more!!! I just want it to stop.

So this is what I will do: I will take an extreme idea (all-liquid diet for a week) and bring it back down a notch or two (liquid-heave diet for the rest of this week). One or two of my meals should be in liquid or puréed form this week – be it smoothie or soup – and I should finish off my days with a peppermint tea. I will continue to take the Metamucil, and slowly get back on track over the course of the week.

I will not let my current state (huge distended belly and aching back and pinched bladder) send me into a spiraling pity party or use it as an excuse to eat all kinds of foods to try to “push things along”.

I am not looking forward to this week, but this, too, shall pass. (I hope)

Saturday started off as a great day. I finished my book (The Bone People – really wonderful) and puttered around the house till mid morning when my good friend Becca called and invited me to a flea market in Wakefield. It was a perfect day for a drive, sunny and crisp, and it was nice hanging out with Becca and her friends.

The place we ended up going to was crazy!

It was in a basement, and totally crammed with stuff. We were hesitant at first, but slowly, we realized what a treasure trove this was. We all scored something:

Check out those rad roller skates!! I managed to snag these little slip ons:

They’ve never been worn. And they’re crocs! They cost me… wait for it… $0.75. Crazy! Wakefield is a really quaint little town just outside of Ottawa, and we also stopped in at a cute cafe and vintage store. I scored a polka dot belt for $3.

Later on that day, I started on a little project I’d been thinking about for a long time.

I had this dress:

Which had served me well for years, but the A-line was a little outdated, and the waist was too high.

Using a nice pencil skirt that fits me well as a pattern, I marked the dress (with a seam allowance), pinned it, tried it on (very important – measure twice cut once is a lesson I’ve learned many times the hard way!!) and sewed up the sides. I also fitted it so the waist would be a bit lower, and shortened the dress by 3 or 4 inches.

My hem was a simple top-stitch. But I learned this good little trick from ThreadBanger: when making your hem, measure out a full inch, iron flat, and then tuck the edge back in under itself and press again, to get a half inch hem:

That way, you only have to measure your edge once, instead of twice. It really cuts down on the time it takes to iron your hem before sewing.

Here is the final dress with my new belt and shoes:

Ahh… Much better!

Perfect for an Easter Dinner.

Though it sure is nice to have a loooonnnng four-day weekend, this one has been real weird, with lots of high peaks and devastating valleys.

Saturday started off as a great day. I finished my book (The Bone People – really wonderful) and puttered around the house till mid morning when my good friend Becca called and invited me to a flea market in Wakefield. We did a quick grocery shop first (since the stores will be closed for two days on account of Easter). The store was hella busy.

But it was a perfect day for a drive, sunny and crisp, and it was nice hanging out with Becca’s friends.

The place we ended up going to was crazy!

It was in a basement, and totally crammed with stuff. We were hesitant at first, but slowly, we realized what a treasure trove this was. We all scored something:

Check out those rad roller skates!! I managed to snag these little slip ons:

They’ve never been worn. And they’re crocs! They cost me… wait for it… $0.75. Crazy! Wakefield is a really quaint little town just outside of Ottawa, and we also stopped in at a cute cafe and vintage store. I scored a polka dot belt for $3.

Bec’s and I drove back into town, and I got home and started on dinner.

I made a great stir fry. I fried up some tofu and onions, then added all these yummy vegetables, and then made a terrific green curry and coconut milk sauce. I even made the brown rice well in advance so it’d be ready in time with the meal. It took me about 45 minutes to make it, and then I tasted the tofu. It was TOTALLY off. I checked the packaging, and sure enough, it had expired on MARCH 9!!! I bought it THAT day from the supermarket. I was sooooo mad! I scrapped the whole thing, threw it all out, cleaned all the dishes and obliterated all traces that the meal had ever existed. It was the only way to keep my mind occupied and stop me from throwing a temper tantrum.

So it was 7:30pm when I was all done, and hadn’t eaten anything yet, and had nothing to show for my efforts. I microwaved some chips and salsa, and called it a day.

I was in no mood to go out after all that, so Angelo went out on his own, and I started on a little project I’d been thinking about for a long time.

I had this dress:

Which had served me well for years, but the A-line was a little outdated, and the waist was too high.

Using a nice pencil skirt that fits me well as a pattern, I marked the dress (with a seam allowance), pinned it, tried it on (very important – measure twice cut once is a lesson I’ve learned many times the hard way!!) and sewed up the sides. I also fitted it so the waist would be a bit lower, and shortened the dress by 3 or 4 inches.

My hem was a simple top-stitch. But I learned this good little trick from ThreadBanger: when making your hem, measure out a full inch, iron flat, and then tuck the edge back in under itself and press again, to get a half inch hem:

That way, you only have to measure your edge once, instead of twice. It really cuts down on the time it takes to iron your hem before sewing.

Here is the final dress with my new belt and shoes:

Ahh… Much better!

Perfect for an Easter Dinner. We’re going to Angelo’s Nonna’s place for dinner, which will be huge! So this morning I had a bowl of brown rice (leftover from last night’s dinner debaucle) and coconut rice (since I opened the can and all) and made rice pudding. Mmm. It was good, and sweet, and lovely.

Topped with lots of cinnamon and a little maple syrup.

Obviously my foul mood has vanished. Yes, the play had lots to do with it, but mostly it was Angelo. When I get so frantic and crazy, he’s good at calming me down, sorting me out, and making me feel better.

So today I was resolved to make things better. Ange slept in and I read in bed this morning, something I haven’t done in a LONG time. It’s taking a lot of getting used to, this whole “we don’t have anything that NEEDS doing”. Having spare time is about as foreign to me as living on the moon. When we did finally get up, we went for breakfast with my mom, and it was good. I had a crepe filled with muesli, banana, and honey, with a side of yogurt and more fruit. No picture though.

We came back home and still, I was kinda antsy and didn’t know what to do with myself. I thought I wanted to go for a walk, but it was too cold, so we turned around and came back inside. Thing is, we haven’t had any heat for the past few days, so the apartment is just as cold as it is outside. Nevertheless, we started in on some chores, and I cleared out the cupboards and pantry. It was good. I didn’t even throw out all that much, but just reorganized everything so that it all fit better. I cleaned the cupboards, too, which they REALLY needed. Ange was the superstar, though, cleaning the rest of the apartment in the time it took me to clean one room!! Raging hot bod, Smarts to boot, AND does housework??? Holy Jackpot, huh??

He went out to play polo and I settled into lunch:

I made a tuna melt. It was really good. I have missed these tuna sandwiches over the last two years. They are just so hearty, and cheesy gooey. M-boy.

I made it on an Ezeikel English muffin, and had it with a side of cucumber.

I also popped about 1/4 cup popcorn.

Topped with Paprika and a little salt. That’s just how I like my popcorn. I of course didn’t eat all of it in one sitting though…

After I finished this up, I got a call from my brother, just to tell me he’d gone for a super long run on account of it was so beautiful outside. I protested, saying that no, actually, it was effing cold, but he would hear none of it and ordered me outside.

So I went out for a run. And then I went out for a bike ride to pick up our fruit and veg basket.

Then it was off to the Polo court to see some bike polo. Lots of fun, and such a relaxing Good Friday. We also had a great dinner, but you’ll have to hear about that later, because we’re going out for drinks now…

DINNER:

So, a couple of nights ago I decided to make some Polenta. I’d really only eaten polenta a handful of times before, in restaurants, and it always seemed so cute and wonderful. There had always been a whole lot of confusion about polenta though, since it can refer to the rough cornmeal or the prepared dish. So recipes calling for “polenta” are tricky. Also, I don’t really know about the ready-made stuff that comes in long tubes at the grocery store.

Anyway… I made MY polenta by boiling 4 cups of water and adding (slowly, oh so slowly) 1 cup of cornmeal. I reduced the heat to simmer, and stirred stirred stirred for a while (maybe ten minutes). Oh yeah, at that point my piece of toast popped up, and I had to attend to that, because it was a little singed, and then the polenta started bubbling and splattering boiling water and cornmeal all over the place, and I had to stir extra vigourously to make up for my lack of attention… Once I felt safe that it wouldn’t wreck the bottom of my pot, I put a lid on it and let it sit for about 20 minutes, stirring once (just for good measure – I don’t know if that’s necessary). Then I put it in a loaf pan, wrapped it in a plastic bag, and set it to cool in the fridge.

Two days later, I made this:

Fried polenta with tomato sauce & sausage, and with a side of wilted garlic spinach. Mm-m.

I just added a little oil to a pan and plopped down the sliced polenta. Angelo made the sauce (we use this brand of canned sauce, which is really our favourite, and we add whatever we like to it – today that was sausage and an extra tomato). I heated the spinach in a pan too, with two cloves garlic (it could have done with some lemon infused olive oil).

Here I am depicting Springtime in Ottawa: sunglasses on my head from the day’s sunny rays, and bundled in a hoodie, wool socks and the most ridiculous slippers in the world, on account of our cold, cold apartment. (look at how clean my cupboards are, though!!)

Mmm… Good tomato sauce. And the sausage was alright too. How strange how easily I’ve gone back to eating all kinds of meat stuffs…

This was my portion. It was really tasty, and I’m glad that the polenta worked out. It’s easy to make ahead of time, and it’s a nice alternative to pasta or rice. Some recipes call for parmesan or herbs and spices during the initial preparation. I will definitely experiment next time I make it.

And Naturalism in theatre, that “kitchen sink theatre” stuff that is set in present time and tells a linear story, always, ALWAYS, depresses me. When it comes to Naturalism, Cinema beats Theatre every time. There is more money, more exposure, more dedicated equipment and talent to create a realistic movie than there ever could be to put on a realistic play. The medium itself, with its closeups and lighting, and editing to skip from location to location in seconds, simply makes it easier for an audience to follow along.

Or so I thought…

Last night I saw “The Blue Dragon” by Robert Lepage. He disproved me, and in such a spectacularly impressive fashion, I rest here, today, humbled. My theories on the limitations of Theatre have been severely questioned last night, and I now feel a little naive about my quick disdain for Theatre. Lepage’s play was told with straight narrative, in a linear fashion, with modern day characters set in modern day China. And the show was better than ANY movie could ever portray. Because not only did he wow the audience with his brilliant (brilliant!!) set and transitions, he also cradled us into the heart of a story that was told more emphatically by the fact of live performing artists acted in front of us. We were transported to this world so far away, and yet we felt intimately attached to the very real people who were exposing their stories to us. I was really moved.

I went with my friend Shayla, who also really liked it. She’s got a Visual Arts background, and so it was interesting to hear her perspective on the set and its relationship to the actors and story. We stayed on afterwards for a “talkback” with Mr. Lepage himself (he plays one of the three characters in the story) and he gave us a glimpse into his process and the evolution of the show. Some of the questions were piercing, and he was really wonderful at providing nice complete bytes about the show. For instance, he delved slightly into the concept for the set. He has studied Chinese calligraphy for many years, and was interested in its revolutionary role in the comic industry. Graphic novels today are heavily influenced by the ink and framing of Chinese calligraphy (spawned in large part by Hergé’s Le Lotus Bleu – a Tintin comic) and Lepage conceived of this play as a live graphic novel. I had that impression, from the subtitles printed in Comic font, and the set divided not only horizontally down the middle of the perscenium frame, but then again in 8 squares, just like a comic book. He did add that some of the scenes were deliberate tableaux, with the characters silouetted, as they often are in graphic novels.

Another interesting point was the revisiting of a character that had been first created in 1985 (this play is actually a “spin off” – his words – of a character in The Dragon’s Trilogy, an epic 6-hour play). The male character did give us a slight glimpse of his past, and what has led him to where he is now (Shanghai) and why he does what he does (fighting for causes, searching for love, finding only emptiness) but really, the play didn’t get mired backstory- these people did as they did because they had to. There was a real sense, especially from the improvisational tone of the play, that the actors did all of their research thoroughly, and found the characters in their bodies, so that they would not have to verbally reiterate their character traits to us during the show.

That’s it in a nutshell: Everyone involved in that production did their job. From the set conception, to the actors, to the transitions from scene to scene, to the costumes, set, props, lighting, it was evident that everything had been looked over, refined, cared for, long before the curtain went up. They did all of that work so that we, the audience, would not have to. All we had to do was let our eyes and ears and hearts and heads soak it all up.

And believe me, mine did!!