I own a pair of slippers that baffle me every time I attempt to wear them. Seems any which way I put them on, Right foot-right foot, left foot-left foot; right foot-left foot, left foot-right foot, it feels weird. So I'm left sitting on the edge of my bed each morning, or night, doing a foot crossing dance trying to figure out just which way I should wear my slippers. And the fact that I do this each...and...every...time is sickening to me. I won't get rid of them because, no matter what feet they are on (hopefully mine) they are just almost unbearably comfortable. (There is too such a thing.)

I am not clueless, just misinformed

I've decided to avoid any news coverage on the hurricane and anything related to it, only to save my sanity. When September 11th happened, same for the Columbine shootings, I was glued to the TV. for hours, and I read the paper everyday. Only I was very choosy with my newspaper articles. I became a newspaper snob. I decided to forego this inner turmoil this time, and extract myself from the vortex that is called media. So no, I actually don't know how bad it is over there.

I don't want to cry, and inevitably that will be what happens. You know how in "Touched by an Angel" Monica would cry or look like she was crying when somebody was in pain? That's me. Call it compassion, call it idiocy. I'm an empath.

I worry for people who lose their wallets on the bus or metro, so imagine how I would be if I could see those who have died or are dying through a crisis of this magnitude?

the butt of all jokes

I am going to Florida in one month. I leave the 15th and return the 22nd of October. I am visiting somebody special. I am really excited about going, but nervous beyond belief. I've already booked my flight and hotel, "bought" American money, and only have a few things to wrap up and I'm all ready to go, AHEAD OF SCHEDULE. It will be my first time flying somewhere by myself other than to Toronto which, as you may already know, doesn't count!

In preparation for this amazing and long excursion, I have been climbing endless flights of stairs so as to tighten up my butt, thighs and lose more weight. It's killing me, slowly, I know it, but I feel I have to do this so I put my best foot forward (so to speak).

So far the muscles in my butt have gotten a little tighter, but the damn thing hasn't gotten any smaller. I'm going to write somebody a strongly worded letter.

tidlicious bits

-- I am submitting two photographs to a contest for the botanical gardens here in Montreal. Good luck to me.

-- I am submitting some poetry, a creative non-fiction prose piece, as well as a fictional piece of prose to the CBC radio Canada contest. GOOD LUCK to me.

-- I have officially restarted my writing. Perhaps, if time and courage permits, I will post a few pieces here.

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-- Here's an exercise for you to ignore as you (probably) always do:

Ask me three questions. Any 3, no matter how personal, private, or random. I have to answer them honestly. I have to answer them all.

Do it. I am waiting. E-mail, Notes or guestbook, my dears. Providing on how many questions I receive, from however many people, I will post these questions and answers in a few days. Get to it. I mean it, I'll answer ANYTHING no matter how serious, silly, or sexual. I might even provide alliterate answers.

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Dad

My father is in the hospital again. Seems like he goes in for something or other at least once a year, much like a car goes in for a tune-up or oil change. The last time he was in was for knee replacement surgery. This time he is in for his back, hips and knee.

Friday my father was fine. Hunky-dory even. Saturday morning he said he woke up with a little pain but didn't think anything of it because he had been suffering from this pain for a month now and had been on anti-inflammatories/painkillers for a month trying to keep the pain at bay. The doctor had said it wasn't anything to do with his fake knee, but was his sciatic nerve acting up so he scheduled him for physiotherapy and prescribed some drugs and sent him on his way. That was weeks ago. So Saturday morning he did his usual routine of going to the bar to watch his beloved Scotland soccer game. On his way home, he apparently had to stop by the side of the highway to get out of the car and walk around because the pain had almost reached an unbearable state. He arrived home and went straight to bed with two painkillers and a heating pad. All day he lay there in pain and at one point, sometime in the afternoon he asked my mom to call an ambulance because he couldn't take the pain anymore. Somehow they put off calling the ambulance until I got home.

Where was I? Oh, I had taken the car downtown and was doing a little shopping for an upcoming trip as well I decided to take in a movie. By the time I got home, 7pm, my father was in excruciating pain and I offered to take him to the hospital. To which he responded with a resounding "I can't make it to the car!" So I phoned my brother and he said he was going to come over.(miracle of miracles) He brought my sis-in-law and niece with him and we talked to dad to see if we could maybe lift him to the car. Forget it. We couldn't do it. We had no choice but to call an ambulance.

The ambulance came within a few minutes and thank gawd they were hefty muscular men who could help my dad up. As they were coming in the door, I even said to them "thank gawd you're big and strong". I'm such an idiot in situations such as these.

So they came in and did their usual questioning of where does it hurt? how much pain are you in on a scale of 1-10? what medication are you on? do you think you can get out of bed? etc... They were really nice, but french-ish, ambulance technicians. We do not have actual paramedics in my town.

So we ushered my sis-in-law and niece out the backdoor at 8:30 at night in anticipation of my father screaming bloody murder when the ambulance guys moved him. My father, such a stoic man, barely let out a whimper although he was sweating profusely and was crying. My father, such a strong man, was reduced to tears because the pain was so bad. I was so scared at that moment and begged to take on some of his pain so as to give him a reprieve. Gawd...didn't listen.

Because the stretcher couldn't make it through the door, they had to have my father lean on their shoulders while walking down the stairs to the front door and then onto the stretcher outside the door. I was thanking our lucky stars the lights on the ambulance weren't flashing and we didn’t alert the neighbours too much to our crisis. They drove my dad to the hospital, and my mother and I followed in the car. The same car that has been laughing its ass off at me because we now have some sort of steering wheel problem.(lacking fluid or something) I am the only one in the house, other than my dad, who can drive. Aside from the steering wheel being a rotating pain in the ass, I noticed that we were low in gas. More prayer followed.

We arrived at the hospital without having to push the car along the highway due to lack of fluids all over the damn place. My dad was admitted into emergency observation and then forgotten for 45 minutes. My mother and I chatted with the uber-talkative ambulance guys for awhile until I decided to check on my dad. He was almost fast asleep if it wasn't for the constant cringing and crying from the pain. I kept waiting and watching for a doctor, nurse, somebody! to come along with either a large needle filled with morphine or a machete for amputation. Finally, a doctor came and said he was going to give my father an injection for the pain and would continue to do so at regular intervals till they could figure out what the problem is.

My father is still in the hospital and probably will be there for awhile. He has had a cat scan and x-rays and we're waiting on a possible MRI today. Seems he may have a collapsed disc in his back which might be pinching a nerve and he may require surgery. This...scares me. My father cannot be put under for surgery because it will put stress on his lungs, as he has a lung disease, and he might not make it out of surgery.

So now I am terrified to the max, as is my poor mother. My aunt was shaking the other night during supper and all I thought to myself was "Oh, great, so both of them will be in the hospital, AGAIN." We keep telling her that my dad will be fine and home before she knows it. My father is of no relation to her, but he is the one she has come to depend upon more than anybody in the house because he is her chauffeur etc... Well, she will just have to depend upon me. I will be the chauffeur for the next long while. Joy.

Amidst this entire crisis, I have been thinking of my upcoming trip. I am not cancelling it because everything is already booked and I REALLY want to go. Maybe it's selfish, or maybe it's about time I did something for myself for once.

So, if my father has to have surgery I will be a basket case, but only in my head because I am being calm for my mother.