The IBS

Warning: icky health-related post ahead.

The swearing librarian is frustrated, she is often under the weather, and she would like a stomach and intestinal transplant. On the bright side, due to frequent bouts of sickness involving losing the world out my ass and occasionally through old fashioned vomiting, I have never looked better, and at Christmas my oldest friend K told me that I looked like a supermodel, which was undoubtedly due to the diarrhea, which is the way that all the cool kids lose weight. I have always been a token sick girl (or for at least the last 5 years, and especially while travelling) but ever since coming to my mid sized Canadian city, it has been getting steadily worse. First I thought I was allergic to this city, then maybe that I had cryptococcus, but while there are still some tests yet to be done (which I may choose not to have, given my theory that they will not tell me anything definitive) the grumpy mean gastroenterologist doctor says there is about a 98% chance that I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, herein after known as The IBS, for which there is no real cure and all that I can do is try to change my diet to cut out any number of things, including but not limited to wheat, milk products, some kinds of meat, some kinds of vegetables, caffeine, alcohol, and chocolate.

So basically all food.

Over the last couple months I have tried to change a couple things - namely I have cut most milk products out of my diet, and have mostly stopped drinking alcohol. But please god, I have given up cheese and booze - don't take my bread and my chocolate! What would be the point left to living with no bread and no chocolate? However, I have recently been told about a cool cookbook for other people like me with spastic stomachs, and I will try to implement certain things like using honey instead of sugar in cooking (honey is much easier to digest; trying to make things like tomato sauce and jam instead of buying the sugar/ starch/ preservative laced store version). The one small problem is that the authors suggest an alternate to regular flour, which is also hard to digest - almond flour ... which would be lovely if I weren't allergic to fucking nuts! But luckily my rocket scientist friend knows the author and I am going to see if she has an alternative for me. Another positive is that my actor boy, who was a chef in his other life, has been instrumental in helping me find things I can eat or making meals that will hopefully not make me sick, although as my classical friend aptly pointed out, the things that most commonly make me sick are anything that I drink and anything that I eat.

Another part of The IBS that is pissing me off (besides the fact that I feel nauseous many mornings, frequently have stomach pains that feel like someone is twisting my intestines into german sausages, sometimes have embarrassing gas, and my generally being excited about having the disease that is commonly experienced by old men) is that I have now become the dinner guest from hell that everyone hates: that "oh I'm sorry I can't eat what you are serving - but don't worry, I am fine with bread and water, so you go ahead and eat your meal and I will be perfectly happy watching you eat" person that you can't take anywhere for dinner or if you do invite over for dinner, you either have to ask them ahead what they can actually eat, or just let them eat what you are serving and suffer the consequences the next day. Don't you hate those people? I know I do. It sucks because I really like going out for dinner, trying new foods, and having dinner with friends or family, but when you are worried about every second ingredient, it kind of takes the fun out of the dining out experience. There is no easy answer to this situation, and I am liable to be full of rage about it for the next little while until I figure out what I can and can't eat - but even then there will be no solid answer to my problem. I know it could be worse - I could have a more debilitating intestinal problem like Crohn's or Colitis, but at this point in time I am not feeling much solace about the fact that I only have the sort of unfortunate stomach problem as a opposed to the serious ones.

So I may have to starve myself when travelling, but I may also have potential for being the mid sized Canadian city's next top model.

Using Fuckbook to my favour

While I have been musing over the idea for about 5 months, on Saturday I finally went and did it: set up a second fuckbook profile for myself, this one for the swearing librarian (no I didn't call it that but in the name of anonymity, I am not telling you the real one!), complete with my library contact info, and have started inviting teens to add me as friends. Once I build my small army I will start advertising events, new books, etc - I have already created a group too, for the teen space.

Brilliant? I thought so too.

Now the beauty of this is not just as an alternative way to advertise, targeting the teens where they already are, but it is also, as one of my first teen friends pointed out, a good way for me to be able to check fuckbook at work and honestly say that it is work related! Yes the swearing librarian is a sneaky little bitch sometimes.

Midol made me do it

I had a weird afternoon, and I blame Midol. No really. It is spring break this week and some of the regulars have been pestering me earlier in the day, which is sometimes entertaining (like when 15 year old J spent much of yesterday telling me about the sci fi novel he has been brainstorming ideas for since he was 12 - a novel that sounds so complex that I predict it may be either epic in size or more preferably divided into a trilogy) and sometimes not (like when D came in and told me about his newfound love of burning himself with just the right combination of ice and salt) and sometimes easily combined with other more stimulating activities such as texting my actor boy (like when J2 or M was in and I could easily sustain a conversation with them in person, my actor boy on my cell phone, and occasionally a work email or two). Ah the joy of multi-tasking. But today in the morning I was particularly grumpy after yet another night of limited sleep, some mind numbingly painful cramps and a general dislike of taking a bus to work that is frequently full of little children, and so while I was out doing errands for a library program I purchased some extra strength Midol to take after lunch.

Did you know that Midol has 60 mg of caffeine in addition to 500 mg of acetaminophen (and 15 mg of pyrilamine maleate, whatever the fuck that is) per single dose, 120 mg X 1000 if you take the suggested 2?

I certainly didn't.

And for someone like myself who doesn't drink coffee or Jolt Cola (and does have tea but not in massive amounts at a time) , apparently this amount can have an affect similar to an intravenous shot of espresso, multiplied by about 6. Or maybe it was the combination of being tired with the caffeine . Who knows. Either way I felt a little high for much of the afternoon, had a couple conversations on gmail I don't really recall, spent a couple hours helping an education student do her homework assignment so that I could ultimately get the contact info for her prof and schmooze with her to potentially increase my chances of one day teaching children's lit at the college level, tried to become a crazy groupie and get my father to email a woman my mother used to know whose children are both musicians and touring together across Canada, performing in a city near me tomorrow for a sold out show, that I clearly won't be able to go to but thought I would at least try to get free tickets for, did some unofficial counselling of my 42 year old co worker to help advise her on a nervous breakdown that has been coming for 13 years and is just now rearing its ugly head (I don't really remember what I told her but recall imparting some wisdom on her as she gave me a ride home), and working my ass off for a bit on Eli to the point that when I clambered off I practically fell over.

So either I had an extra burst of energy that lasted for about 4 and half hours or the Midol are to blame (or to thank). Granted some of those things I may have done without the pills - like turning an annoying situation (of the needy education student that wanted me to do her homework for her) into one that works positively for me and hopefully gaining contact with her professor, a woman who is respected in the field of children's lit and library studies and who could potentially be a PhD supervisor or just all around good person to know - but feeling like I was on hyper-speed and not remembering some conversations is the rather distressing part. I am still a little jittery, 9 hours after taking the pills.

Or at least that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

The List

This list is a work in progress, and is the list (as inspired by the Friends episode) of famous people that I could sleep with if I were to ever meet them and it would not count as cheating, because they are famous and famous people don't count as actual partners. Right? Well my actor boy and I have agreed on this anyways, so it's alright. The basic rule is to have 5 people and 2 alternates, and so as you can see I still need to cut the list down.

(the list is not in any specific order)

David Usher
Ewan Macgregor
Brad Pitt
Daniel Day Lewis
Paul Gross

Possible alternates:

Jude Law
Zach Braff
John Cusack
Clive Owen
Daniel Craig
Naveen Andrews
George Stroumboulopoulos
Hugh Jackman
Jake Gyllenhaal

Also, actor boy said that I could put as many girls on the list as I wanted and they would not count to the total number, so here are a few girls as well:

Molly Parker
Kate Winslet
Shirley Manson
Meg Ryan
Anna Friel

Clearly I am not anywhere close to selecting the final 7 and laminating them onto a card I carry with me, so feel free to make suggestions of other worthy candidates for this list.

Jesus te amo

In honour of this holy day of chocolate and crucifixes, and because I have the day off and am avoiding reading some bad review books, I have decided to write some lists, which as you may know is one of my favourite things to do. This list has to do with songs, some which may have already appeared as facebook status lines, that are totally blasphemous or at the very least have some mildly inappropriate reference to god or jesus that is not in a religious context at all.

Nine Inch Nails - Closer: "I want to fuck you like an animal, I want to feel you from the inside, I want to fuck you like an animal, my whole existence is flawed, you get me closer to god".

David Usher - Jesus Was My Girl is a classic, but also White Flag: "Took a trip out to the girly show, it was there I talked to jesus, he said christ don't you believe it, another drink and we talked all night, I asked does it hurt to be you he said boy it hurts like hell"

Manic Street Preachers - they have more than few songs, including Crucifix Kiss, an album called The Holy Bible, but my favourite is "The girl who wanted to be god"

Depeche Mode - Personal Jesus, or "I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I think that god's got a sick sense of humour"

Pulp - The Dishes, in which Jarvis Cocker compares himself to Jesus: "I'm not jesus though I have the same initials - I am the man who stays home and does the dishes"

Morrissey - Dear God, Please Help Me: "Then he motions to me with his hand on my knee, dear God, did this kind of thing happen to you? Now I'm spreading your legs, with mine in-between,
dear God, if I could I would help you". And I also love November Spawned a Monster: "But Jesus made me, so Jesus save me from pity, sympathy and people discussing me, a frame of useless limbs, what can make good all the bad that's been done ?"

Muse - take your pick as most Muse songs have something to do with Apocalypses, burning in hell, or just our ultimate demise - but one of my favourite titles is "Thoughts of a dying atheist".

David Gray - Ain't No Love "Maybe it would do me good if I believed there were a god cut in the starry firmament, but as it is that's just a lie"

Arcade Fire - Neon Bible: "Oh god! Well look at you now! You lost it but you don't know how!", Antichrist Television Blues, or Intervention.

U2 - depending on day and mood, the boys sometimes approve of religion and sometimes don't, hence songs like "God Part II" and the line Bono added to Bullet the Blue Sky during the Rattle and Hum tour: "The god I believe in isn't short of cash, mister!"

And to quote my dimwitted friend from the classic 1994 film Forrest Gump:

Lieutenant Dan: Have you found Jesus yet?
Forrest: I didn't know I was supposed to be looking for him!

Or to paraphrase Dennis Leary from Rescue Me (because this may not be the exact quote) - if there is a god, he's got an awful lot of explaining to do.

I could go on all day, but I think you get the idea ... feel free to suggest more songs if you think of them. Happy Easter!

Cake, sex and books

Who needs to systematically detail the events of the past when I can just come up with new, random thoughts that have no bearing on anything? Besides, that is what I used to do, so why break with tradition.

My English Muffin just said a wise thing in his email the other day that actually had some significance - he asked why he hadn't heard from me for awhile and suggested that it was no doubt to do with cake, sex, or books. And then I realized how completely inspirational his comment was, for he had come to the truth of my existence:

The three most important things in my life are cake, sex and books. Oh I know it might sound shallow, but let's consider those three things for a moment, and how they are inextricably linked to everything else in life.

Cake

Anyone who knows me, knows that I love cake. But just how much do I love cake? We are talking about a girl who has started to compile a periodic table of cake, has done tiramisu tests around the world, and is never quite as happy as when she has a cup of her vanilla cream tea and any sort of cakey goodness she can get her hands on, ranging from the exquisite and expensive desserts at True Confections in Raincouver, to store bought chocolate covered digestives, and everything in between. And lately, I have come across a startling discovery: I can in fact create some of these desserts on my own! I have baked dark chocolate peanut butter cookies, banana and lemon loaf, and enjoyed the fabulous ginger cake and tiramisu of my former chef boyfriend. I know what you are thinking: cookies are different than cake, but this is simply not true - well not if you are my English Muffin who calls all desserts "cake". So what we are basically discussing is the cake family, which can of course include muffins, loaves, and anything else you possibly want to put in there as long as it has some sugar, flour, and hopefully some chocolate as well. But no milk or cheese, because those are no longer cool in my world.

Sex

Some would think this particular aspect of my holy trinity is a given, but as I have seen in some rare cases of human behaviour, there are actually individuals in this world who do not enjoy sex, and while I do not judge them, I certainly do feel a bit sorry for them. Something that I have come to notice in my 30 years on this earth is that quite often the people who do not enjoy sex are those who have not experienced good sex, and while a lady never talks about her past conquests (I assure you there aren't that many), I feel quite comfortable in discussing my current one: actor boy. As much as you may want me to, I am not going into details or statistics on him, but one thing I do have to say is that we have great sex, and it lasts much longer than the typical 9-12 minutes that 90% of North Americans apparently experience. I almost feel as sorry for them as the people who don't have sex. So while I will not describe the actual sex, I think it is relevant to point out how happy it can make me, and that is why it deserves a spot on this list.

Books

I have saved the best for last because while cake and sex are both quite wonderful, I do strongly believe that if I had nothing in my life but books I would probably be quite happy. It would be frustrating to have to read about the cake and sex, but I could handle it. Books are my profession (paid and unpaid as I am both a librarian and reviewer), they are my hobby, they are the one possession I would attempt to save if my house was burning down, and for that, they are an essential part of my holy trinity. And one day I hope to write travel fiction, picture books and teen novels. I have my picture books, my children's and teen novels, my graphic novels, travel fiction, and even my shitty review books that I don't particularly like I still value as part of my collection. When I moved in the fall I had one of my coolest first dates with actor boy unpacking my picture books and alphabetizing (which was almost better than sex ... I said almost!), only felt truly at home once they were unpacked, have spent money in bookstores of the world, and visit libraries as much as art galleries when I am travelling. I could go on all night about books but really all you have know is they are my lifeblood. And not in an emo sort of way, because if you know anything about me and books, I really really really don't like getting my books dirty, so no cake, no sex, and definitely no blood will be spilled around them.

I'm baaaaack, Part 8

It's been 9 months but I'm finally back ... I guess the whole pregnancy and childbirth thing really took up my spare time. Little Eli just came home on the weekend, and he really is the apple of my eye.

HA! Had you fooled there for a minute didn't I? I fucking hate kids ... well I don't mind working with them (some of them anyways) but I don't feel the need for any of my own. I blame the time lapse once again on Fuckbook, that evil evil social networking site that has taken over my life (or at the very least provided an outlet for all the fabulous pictures I take of myself), not my busy life, because you are never too busy to waste time on a blog, right?

That being said, my life has been rather busy the past 9 months. After deciding to stay (another way of saying I didn't get any of the jobs I applied for) in my mid sized Canadian shithole I made the active choice, to, gasp, take my job a little more seriously, and although there are still many things and people about it that piss me off, I am actually growing to love it more than I used to and feel like I have found a place in the organization. Since June I have planned and somewhat successfully carried out the summer reading program, fully erased the redhead from my life, went to my dear friend's wedding, had people there try to set me up with the only other single person there who was a nice guy, but let's face it, kind of a tool, went to some Fringe plays in a nearby city that is cooler than my own (although that isn't hard) and in doing so spent some quality time with an actor who at the time was in a relationship and I was just friends with, but I am now married to.

Had you fooled again didn't I?!

We aren't married but I really do love him and have been seeing him since September (or is it October? I have never been good with dates), and no I didn't break up his other relationship (I don't think I did anyways), and in recent months we have been through some things together that make me feel like, god forbid, I have an actual adult relationship with real intimacy. You should try it sometime. Now for those of you keeping score at home, this particular actor is different than pretentious guy at the library, who was sort of an actor (but not really) or other actor boy who was more of film guy that also kind of worked at the library. This one is all actor (and bits of leftover chef, which means that he cooks me wonderful meals) and has never worked at the library - although he did rehearse his fringe play there with the pretentious guy who he also used to live with. And I actually met this actor guy earlier last year when I was with film boy, at pretentious boy's (and at the time, also actor boy's) house party where I was drunk and quite possibly told all of them I wanted a foursome with them. Confused yet? Oh good - I knew you could keep up. But none of those other boys matter any more, because this one is a keeper, and also highlights the dumbassishness of the other two.

Also since last year, I was kicked out my old apartment (which was brimming with cryptococcus and about to slide down the hill so it was just as well), was adopted by a pretend family and spent a month living with a pretend auntie and her slightly crazy cat while I found a new apartment, took a month off to go on a cross Canada shopping spree in a number of real cities, discovered the brilliance of Betsey Johnson, was sick a lot, survived through some inhumanely cold temperatures, spent a lot of time with the actor, didn't watch as much tv as normal on account of the writer's strike (but did catch up on some dvds), got a cell phone (don't look so shocked, it was bound to happen sometime), learned how to cook and bake (which oddly enough I sort of enjoy doing), and here were are in March.

Any questions?

If I decide to stick with this blog thing, I will fill you on all the lovely stories you have missed in months to come - or just start fresh with the new exciting things that happen to me every day. Or tell you about the boring things that I delight in making sound interesting.

You are free to go.