Just Try To Relax

The other day my chronic shoulder pain was worse than usual, so I finally called a local health centre to find out what to do about it. I’ve already run the gamut—physio, massage, shock wave, barbotage, cortisone shots, and I’ve had more ultrasounds than you can imagine, as the calcium deposits in my tendons grow, shrink, turn into kidney stones, and other demonic attacks on my body. I explained my issue to the receptionist, who recommended that I see their consulting chiropractor on Friday morning at 8:30 AM…who the hell does medical appointments that early in the morning?! I’m RETIRED for crying out loud! But I bit the bullet because I really needed to do something about the pain. On Friday morning, I got to the clinic and sat there for a while watching a woman about my age doing some kind of weird exercises with a younger man that I assumed was the chiropractor and I had two thoughts: a) I was NOT doing any kind of exercise that early in the morning even though I WAS wearing yoga pants, but that’s just for show, obviously and b) if the chiropractor suggested chiropractic-ing me, that was going to be a hard pass for a variety of reasons which are too lengthy to go into here. But eventually it was my turn, and the doctor was very nice and not at all pushy about wanting to crack my spine. He actually suggested a course of accupuncture and I agreed. He told me to lay down on the table with my face in a convenient face-shaped hole, then he started putting the needles into my shoulder. It was virtually painless and I couldn’t feel them going in at all. “Everything good?” he asked. I agreed that I was just fine, and then he said, “OK, dear, lie there, close your eyes and just relax.”

RELAX? Did he know who he was talking to? Because this was the order of events that played out in my mind IMMEDIATELY after he walked out of the room:

1) How many needles did he put in? I couldn’t feel them all—was it five? Ten? How does he know when he takes them out that he hasn’t missed one, and when I put my hoodie back on, I’ll get stabbed?!’

2) There has to be some kind of system. Does he have an excel spreadsheet to write down how many needles he puts in so he knows how many to take out? And if he doesn’t have an excel spreadsheet, that would be a good idea. Maybe I should suggest that to him. But then, you’d still need someone else to VERIFY the number of needles because you could very easily miscount.

3) My arm is getting stiff. Is it safe to move it? If I move it, will one of the indeterminate amount of needles shift and stab me?

4) How long do I have to lie here? He didn’t say anything about a time limit. Wait—is he TREATING SOMEONE ELSE RIGHT NOW? I can hear him through the wall—did he forget about me? How long do I wait before I get up and look for him? CAN I get up? What about the needles? What if I got up then tripped and landed on my arm, jamming the needles deeper into my skin?

4) My face hurts. This face hole is stupid and not very face-shaped at all. I might as well close my eyes—all I can see is the carpet anyway…nope—if I close my eyes, all I see is needles.

5) What time is it? Is he ever coming back? I’m going to start counting and when I reach 10 minutes, I’m getting up, finding my phone and calling for help, needles or no needles.

Luckily for everyone, when I reached 4 minutes and 27 seconds, he suddenly opened the door. “How are you feeling now?” he asked, taking out the needles.

“Just fine,” I said, putting my hoodie back on VERY carefully.

And now I have to do this twice a week until the pain starts to go away. Wish me luck.

Mousetrap update: Still no sign of it. We upgraded to a fancy new live trap that we borrowed from my aunt and we caught a big one this morning, but he refused to talk. And now other things are going missing, including my second-favourite handbag, which has apparently vanished from the coatrack by the door, never to be found, as well as an LV makeup bag. So if you see a mouse sporting a fake-but-very-realistic-looking Louis Vuitton mini-Speedy, tell him I’m looking for him–and I’m bringing an indeterminate amount of needles.

A Mouse-y Mystery; An Announcement

Every once in a while, we get a mouse in the house. Of course, it’s usually more than one—you know what they say: where there’s one mouse, there’s usually more. In the past, we’ve tried everything—live traps, sonic devices, a cat—and eventually, they stop coming around for a few months. We hadn’t seen any sign of a wee rodent since last winter, but a week and a half ago, Ken and I were standing in the kitchen talking and suddenly Ken interupted me with, “Look! A mouse just ran across the floor and disappeared under the cupboard!”

We have an old postmaster’s cupboard in the corner of the kitchen that we use for a variety of things, but in the bottom we store Atlas’s food in the right-hand side, and rice and a rice cooker on the left-hand side. Ken opened the left-hand door, which is where the mouse seemed to have disappeared into, and there was no sign of it. But the bags of rice had obviously been chewed into, and there was mouse sh*t on my rice cooker.

As you may remember, we gave up on live traps when it became obvious that the mice had figured out how to get the peanut butter without getting stuck in the trap, and as much as I hated to do it, we went out the next day and bought one of those snap traps. Ken slathered it with peanut butter, much to Atlas’s delight, because that meant he also got some peanut butter (Why? Because otherwise, he would pout and complain), and then Ken slid the trap very carefully under the rice/dog food cupboard with me all the while repeating, “Careful, careful!” in case it snapped his finger off. The next morning, we came downstairs and sure enough, there was a mouse in the trap. It was a late mouse and it made me sad. We repeated the same steps two more times and caught two more mice. But then…

On Thursday morning, I came down for breakfast.

Me: Did you check the mousetrap?
Ken: Oh, not yet, I forgot. Hang on. (*gets down on hands and knees to peer under the cupboard*). Uh…
Me: What’s wrong?
Ken: The mousetrap is gone.
Me: What are you talking about? How can it be gone?
Ken: I don’t know, but it’s gone.
Me: But…the whole mousetrap?!
Ken: I know. Maybe the mouse’s tail got caught and it dragged it somewhere else?
Me: I don’t hear any squeaking.
Ken: Maybe it got free.

So we spent a lot of time on Friday searching for the trap to no avail. It has completely vanished. And I know there are a lot of places in any house where a mouse might disappear into, but a whole mousetrap??!! It’s kind of terrifying, to be honest, like where could it possibly have gone?! And now, I have no mousetrap, and potentially a mouse with magical powers, half a tail, and a thirst for revenge. Wish me luck.

In other news, I’m happy to announce on behalf of DarkWinter Press that our second publication, the novel The Dogcatcher by Sean Patrick Carlin, will be available for pre-sale starting tomorrow! It’s an awesome book if any of you are looking for a fun, spooky, and cleverly funny fall read and it’s available to order here!

Abandonment Issues

Last week, Ken and I decided to watch a new show, based on my dental hygienist Harmony’s suggestions. It’s called Ahsoka and it’s part of the Star Wars universe, and that might make you believe it was going to be a good show, but by halfway through the first episode, I turned to Ken and said, “This is the most stupid show I’ve ever seen.” Why, you ask? Was it the acting? No. Was it the dialogue? No. Was there a plot detail that made absolutely no sense and made me super-angry? Why yes. And what exactly was that ludicrous plot detail in a story that takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far far away, and features people with elephant trunks for ears? It was this, and you can read this without worrying about spoilers:

In the show, one of the main characters has a cat. Well, it’s a cat-like creature that looks KIND OF like a cat but sounds and acts EXACTLY like a cat. When she comes home from her job, she takes a container of kibble out of her cupboard and feeds the cat, and it purrs, and she pets it, and it is VERY OBVIOUSLY her pet cat. But…partway through the episode, she gets into a fight with someone in her home, and she gets hurt, and ends up in a weird hospital. And NO ONE SAYS A WORD ABOUT THE CAT. Not, “should we get your neighbour to check on your cat?” or “do you want me to pop by and feed your cat while you recover in this very white and large hospital room?” Again, no. And then……she decides to go off and join up with the Jedis and she JUST LEAVES. Does she ask anyone to take care of her lovely, purr-y pet cat? NO, SHE DOES NOT AND WE NEVER SEE THAT ADORABLE CAT AGAIN. And it’s so apparent that no one in charge of writing this show has EVER had a pet of any kind because for all of us who DO have pets, we know that the care of your pet is usually topmost on your mind. Ken and I never leave the house without 1) calculating the number of hours that we’ll be gone and ensuring that it’s a reasonable length to leave Atlas alone 2) contacting our neighbour if the number of hours is more than 6 consecutively so she can give him lunch and let him out to pee 3) giving him a cookie and 4) telling him that we’ll be back soon so he won’t worry, as one does. And yes, I know cats are a little more self-sufficient than dogs but still, who the hell just up and leaves their pet house cat to fend for itself while you go off gallivanting around the galaxy and doing additional stupid things that shall not be named here because I promised no spoilers?

At any rate, it was terrible and I became very fixated on the whole cat abandonment plot twist, to the point where I started dreaming that I found a litter of kittens and Ken and I were trying to herd them into a holding area so we could care for them and if you know anything about cats and/or dreams, you’ll know that it was a very difficult and stressful task. So thanks, Ahsoka.

In other news, I’m sorry if this is so rant-y and short but I did one book festival all day yesterday and I’m doing another one all day today, and between having to actually talk to people and sit under a tent all day, I’m exhausted. But I sold a lot of books and promoted the new press, so it was pretty good.

**How could you ever forget about something so cute?!**

Things That Are Like Other Things

Last night, Ken and I were watching a YouTube video about songwriters that got sued because their songs sounded too much like other songs. And there were a LOT of them. Most of the time, the newer songwriters lost in court and had to pay royalties to the previous songwriters. And it got me thinking about other things that are like things, only I don’t know if anyone ever got sued over any of these:

One Christmas, Ken put something amazing in my stocking. We’ve always given each other stockings full of socks, chocolate, wine, and other small cool stuff, and that year I was excited to receive a pen. That might sound less cool than I’ve made it out to be, but wait! It wasn’t just a pen—it was also a screwdriver, a level, and a ruler. It was, in fact, a “4-In-1 Pen Tool”, and if that isn’t the best thing that is like another thing, I don’t know what is. Now, no matter where I go, I can measure something, check if it’s level, repair it, or write down an interesting fact about it. Because multi-tasking is an art, and things that are like other things are a multi-tasker’s best friend.

Here’s another example–if you’ve been here before, you know that I LOVE gummy vitamins. They’re multi-coloured, taste just like gummy bears, and are the best of both worlds. The first thing I get to do when I get up in the morning, even BEFORE I eat my yogurt, is have some candy. And it was recommended by my doctor! I NEVER used to take vitamins before, on the grounds that they tasted bad (except for Vitamin C tablets, which taste like oranges, or just like the baby aspirin they had when I was a kid. I used to sneak baby aspirin every so often because they were so delicious–I could fall off my bike and bleed half to death because my blood was so thin, but it didn’t hurt at all), and I didn’t really care about thiamine or niacin or dioxin or whatever. But now, I take vitamins every day because it’s fun AND healthy.

And that got me thinking about: First, things that are like other things that make me happy, and next: the things that SHOULD be like other things that would make me even happier:

1) One of my all-time favourite things which is like another thing is ‘Pants That Are Pajamas’. After working from home during the pandemic, I accrued several pairs of these. Some people call them ‘Yoga Pants’ but I don’t do yoga, unless you count a vigorous stretch to grab a wine glass from the cupboard. And if you’re still working remotely, ‘Pants That Are Pajamas’ allow you to easily transition from Business Casual to Nightwear with very little effort at all.

2) If you’ve ever flown, you know that your seat cushion turns into a flotation device. Which begs the question (which I think I heard first from Jerry Seinfeld) ‘why doesn’t the plane just turn into a cruise ship if it lands in the water?’ I know this is totally possible, because my next favourite thing which is like another thing is a bus that turns into a boat. We went on a bus tour in Ottawa a few years ago, and after we’d driven around for a while looking at the Parliament buildings and whatnot, the driver suddenly announced that we would also be cruising the harbour. Then we drove down a ramp, STRAIGHT INTO THE RIVER. I was totally freaking, but Ken was like, “Don’t worry–the wheels turn into propellers and there’s a ring underneath that inflates.” I responded very calmly with “Liar! We’re going to drown!” and Ken said, “They ADVERTISED this. Why are you acting all surprised? Don’t you remember?”, but I reminded HIM that first, I thought they meant we would get OFF the bus and get ON a boat, and second, I may or may not have been enjoying a very nice Sauvignon Blanc the previous evening when he pulled out the brochure and was waving it around, saying, “Ooh, this will be fun.” But you know what? Once I got used to the idea that my bus was now a boat, and the bus driver was now a sea captain and I could refer to him as ‘Skipper’, I really enjoyed the whole experience. Kate, of course, remained calm throughout the entire tour. Or maybe she was bored. Mainly because the tour consisted of just looking at buildings. But still, the Bus-Boat was very cool.

3) Canes that become swords. Okay, technically, they don’t BECOME swords, they just have swords in them. It would be awesome to be hobbling around, all decrepit-like, then suddenly whip out that sword like a superspy ninja when the need arose. I also love canes that double as flasks for alcohol, because who DOESN’T want to crack that bad boy open when no one’s looking? It would have made my Bus-Boat trip a hell of a lot more interesting once we were on the water, that’s for sure.

4) Sporks. This is two handy things in one–a spoon and a fork. Take it one step further by sharpening the plastic edge, and you have a sporfe: a spoon, fork, and knife all in one, which I just invented. Actually, this might have already been invented, most likely by a prisoner, who stole a spoon from the canteen and turned it into a weapon to shank his cellmate with first, then ate the guy’s pie and ice cream after. Wow, that got dark kind of quick for a fun plastic utensil.

5) Closed Captioning. This allows you to watch TV and read at the same time, so all those people who think reading is a more intellectual pursuit than Netflix can get stuffed.

Okay, so I’ve listed some things that are already like other things, so here are some ideas about things that I WISH were other things:

1) An exercise machine that is also a bar. Many years ago, I had a recumbent cycle, and I used to pour a big glass of wine, turn on the TV, and cycle for a few kilometres. It was hardly like exercising AT ALL, and I broke even on the calories.

2) A bookshelf that is a door. I’ve been bugging Ken about this for a while now, trying to get him to think of a place in our house where we could put a bookshelf that is, in reality, the door to a secret room. There are a couple of spots where we could do it, but Ken thinks it would be really complicated to build. What a baby. I mean, I’m no engineer, but I do have a 4-In-1 pen, and I think it’s definitely possible.

3) A pen with a Tide White Stick on the other end. This is great for people like me, who are fairly clumsy and wave pens around for emphasis, inevitably getting ink on their clothes. But see, with my invention, all you’d have to do is flip the thing around, erase that blob, and you’re good to go. Combine it with the 4-In-1 Pen and you wouldn’t be able to keep them on store shelves—they’d be snapped up faster than a recumbent cycle with a built-in wine fridge.

Ultimately, I am the QUEEN of multi-tasking. Whether it’s eating, drinking, working out, or just relaxing, I’ve got a pen for that.