I'm like an oak-veneered fun dispenser

Today I bumped my head harder then I have hit my head in a long time. I have a resonating skull headache right now and I smashed my head around 2pm. Steve was chasing me with snow from our balcony and I backed away from him and threw myself on to our bed. Only I misjudged how far away the wall was and I cracked the back of my head against the wall with the full force of my body pushing off of the edge of the bed. It made a very loud noise and then I laughed and cried. It's funny when you hit your head... or at least when I hit my head... I always register the noise of the hit before the pain registers. Interesting. It was a hard enough hit that we actually checked to see if the wall was dented. I sure hope I don't have a concussion.

How many times can I write giraffe?

Last night I had a dream that tederick.com had been updated so that the top right corner was a soundless film of Matt's doings that began with and ended with a really slick looking green logo of tederick himself rotating around in a corporate logo type manner. The oddest part was that the top right film was showing me matt going to the zoo and watching giraffes fart, and then suddenly I was at the zoo with Jess and a number of school groups of children supervising them as they watched elephants and giraffes go down a mudslide, and then proceeded to go down said mudslide themselves. By mudslide I actually mean a wooden slide-like ramp that is covered in mud. Jess didn't want to get dirty, but I was very muddy and the kids took pictures of me covered in mud wearing glasses with one lens.

Once all of the kids had a chance to go down the slide one of the kids came up and told me that she had lost a little metal bit on the slide. I tried to convince her that we'd have to find her a new one, but she insisted on looking for it. She wouldn't say what it was but described it as looking like a pushpin stuck into a peanut and she was worried about the animals eating it. She had also brought her cat to the zoo, so we had to bring the cat with us while we went looking.

When we got to the top of the slide there were a few zoo keepers and a very cute baby giraffe. The cat, who had short hair and very giraffy markings ran up to the baby giraffe. The baby giraffe then ate the cat. He swallowed it like a python swallows a bunny. The little girl screamed. One of the zoo keepers came over and massaged the baby giraffe's neck until it vomited up the cat in a very birthing-like manner. The cat came out as a long-haired fluffy white cat, likely because of the trauma of being swallowed.

And then I woke up.

frollicking in the goo

I had an incredibly lovely weekend in guelph this past weekend. I presented a workshop at a conference about queer university services and it was just so nice to be in a space where people were thinking about and working towards a collective goal. I attended two workshops, one about non-normative bodies and the movement from the freak show to the peepshow and we watched some porn featuring bodies with disabilities.

I also went to a workshop about sex and chronic illness which wasn't all that helpful and triggered all kinds of stuff that I haven't thought about seriously in awhile... hence my last post. But it was good to think about. It was just nice to be in guelph and to breathe. That place meant a lot to me.

I've been feeling lately like I've lost the "Becca". I've been introducing myself as Rebecca again and falling back into patterns that I associate with that name. Where's the Becca people!

I'm doing my best this week to balance social stuff with school stuff, but the school stuff is eating me. Luckily I'm delicious.

bodies shit and desire

I'm going through some shit right now. I guess that's not news... it's just different shit. For the first time in awhile I've really felt the need for a community and voice and a creative expression. It's one of those moments when I may need to stop mocking support groups and go back to them for awhile. I just want a sex positive, queer positive, body positive support group to be in. Any leads?

I want to talk about sex, and bodies, and the stuff that comes out of them. I want to talk about pain and disgust and the feeling of not wanting to be touched and all of the guilt and anger and desire that swirls around it. And I want to talk about the fear of that pain, numbness, lack of control that lurks beneath the surface as soon as the sensation stops, or comes back... depending on what chronic box I fit into at the moment.

I want a space where I'm not the only one crying and bleeding and screaming for a nurse in a quarantined room. I don't want to have to explain what it was like while trying to avoid talking about shitting into a plastic bag, or shitting every five minutes, or shitting when I didn't want to. I got to know my own shit.

And I'm sure as much as you love me I should leave out the details.

when's my break?

I'm attempting to work my ass off this week in order to make my life easier this weekend. I'm not sure if it's working. All of the bookstores in Toronto are trying to scam me, which I find very unpleasant... and my body is a little off. You'd think all the meds I keep pumping into myself would stave off the off-ness, but not so much.

I'm presenting at a conference in the Goo this weekend and I have not prepared, I have a paper due today that is mostly prepared, and I have read 4 of the 10 articles I have to read this week, but only 60 pages of the 300 page book I'm supposed to have read by Friday. I'm trying.

I just made a pot of tea and settled down with the old lappy and my tea pot started belching out water after about five minutes of steeping. What's that about? I've been feeling very science experimenty lately. Maybe I'm questioning my pursual of the arts and humanities? I dunno. I froze an egg the other day to see what would happen. Surprisingly, it turned into a frozen egg. The shell was hard to crack and peel off, but it was very frozen inside. So there you have it.

HoChoSexual

I'm in a tornado zone right now. One of those places where there seems to be an equal amount of good and bad swirling around me and the sky is turning yellow and it may pass, or it may cook up one sweet mother of a funnel cloud. It's a delicate balance, my life.

I haven't done any school work this weekend, but I feel reasonable accomplished. On Friday I had my first academic shmoozefest, which was initially terrifying, and then (after two glasses of wine) became very enjoyable. Luckily there were lots of prof children there so I was able to warm up by having some very in-depth conversations with a 9, 10, and 11 year old about the books that they're reading. It always amazes me when people my age talk to kids that age as if they are 4. Is it that hard to remember what it was like? I was developing breasts and reading holocaust fiction at age nine for gosh-sanks.

After the shmoozing I came home to find three of my favourite people in the world and we proceeded to have a lovely night of wine, pizza, and Califonication. What more could you ask for? And that led into a Saturday afternoon with my new baby cousin... or baby of one of my cousins... either way we now seem to be Aunt Becky and Uncle Steve and that's kind of exciting. It's a little more real than Steve's nephews who are 17, 19, 22 who call me Aunt Bex. I love baby time. And Steve and I learned the word "Superpoo" which has now entered into our daily vocabulary.

And today was adventures in coat shopping. After trying on about 30 coats I finally found one. It was on sale for $50 and the stitching on the shoulder was messed up so they took off an extra $10! Suck on that! It was time for a new coat. The one I've been wearing for the past two winters was my grandmother's from the 70s I think, and there are holes in the pockets, the armpits, and all of the repairs I did to the ripped button holes last year had fallen apart this year. I wouldn't have made it through the -17 that's going to hit us on Thursday in that coat, so yay for new coat.

Now I'm waiting for Steve to get home from work on the couch in new pj pants and a hoody and I'm waiting for the kettle to boil for some ho-cho. That ain't bad.

watch me while i take this curve

I maintained my composure about the new school semester until Wednesday night... and then I FREAKED OUT! I suppose I just reached that moment where I realized the work is going to start again and my happy floaty life of sleeping in and cooking dinner this week is about to crumble around me. Damn. This afternoon I have my first core course for my program and I unfortunately fount out that participation makes up 50% of my mark, which makes me nervous.

I already feel tired and run down and panicked. I need to get myself together to teach my class on Friday and then rest up for the week ahead. It's funny, my freak out came on the tale end of a lovely day with Jessica doing nothing but eating Indian food and watching Californication. Maybe I crossed the line of indulgence?