Wednesday, September 27, 2006

A bit better

Yesterday I felt like I had been run over by the flu bus. Today, it seems more like a bicycle, or maybe a hand-cart.Thanks to the amazing restorative power of an extra 20 or so hours of sleep and a bunch of ginsing, my main complaint now is the coughing stuff up, as opposed to the feeling of having just been beaten by a sack of sweet valencia oranges. Hopefully I will be much better by tomorrow when I have a bunch of stuff to do.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

I'm sick.

It seems that if I get too happy about anything, fate steps in to balance my life. I had been happy to have a new job and to be finally getting close to done my thesis, but here I am, knocked flat on my back with a fever and sore throat. I'd go into more detail, but the ny-quil is kicking in, and I can't hold my head up all that much right now.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

And yes, wheat is, in fact, up.

Wheat, or rather weizenbier, is on tap at the Whale and Cedar Freehouse, and if you come by, you can have some. It comes in three sizes, and I'm sure you know what they are:

Wee (12 Fl Oz)
No So Wee (20 Fl Oz)
Friggin HUGE (34 Fl Oz) (Mmmm, german liter stein)

All servings come with a slice of lemon, and our patented Treewhale Charm.

Also, I wrote to my aunt Nan today, and if you have an aunt Nan, you should too. If not, you should write to a different elderly relative, because if you don't, who will?

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Wheat's up with Owen

Well, in the last couple of days, I've gotten a job (lawyering, of all things, who would have thought) been called back by my thesis advisor (only good things, astonishingly enough), and bought my first new pair of shoes in over two years. Good shoes, too, Clarkes, they make my old shoes feel like the insoles were made of plywood (those ones were $12 runners from Zellers that I got when my stomp-y boots disintegrated. Yes, it has been a good couple of days for YT.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

More problems with this Nirvana I call Home

Let's put it this way:

The thermostat is set to 25 degrees C.

The temperature reading on the thermostat reads 13.5 degrees C.

Why does this always happen on a weekend?

Too cold to post with no socks on. Going back to bed.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

My last two days:

Yesterday, I got to hang out with some friends who have been hard to pin down for various reasons, ranging from overwork to living in different cities. Just as I was sitting down with them, however, Jenn's sister called from the emergency room indicating that we needed to come and pick up her mum, and that she had needed to get painkillers for her tooth, and couldn't wait until the end of the long weekend. When we got to the hospital, expecting to take her home and put her to bed, it turned out that she in fact needed much more attention that Kayla had let on, and that Jenn would need to look after her on an ongoing basis for the evening. Fine. I made arrangements with my friend who was supposed to come for supper, and was, in fact, able to keep that date, although Jenn was not, which made Suz sad, but when your mom calls from the hospital, you kinda hafta go.

Had a good visit with Suz, and made quite merry over vegetarian lasagana and virgin margaritas on my deck.

That was good and all, but it became apparent that Jenn (and by default, I) needed to stay the night to drive her mum around in the morning. Normally this would be fine, but all the beds and even some couches were full, leaving Jenn and Myself to sleep on a slowly deflating air mattress on the living room floor. By four in the morning, the mattress had deflated enough that at least one part of me was resting on the floor no matter how I positioned myself. I was drifting gently in and out of a fitful sleep when, out of the darkness, the two cats who hate each other erupted into a vicious fight on my crotch. There was screaming and kicking (and not a little blasphemy on my part) which apparently woke the house to much amusement as they were able to reconstruct in their mind's eye almost instantly the situation in the living room.

At that point, Jenn stuck the offending evil white cat in the basement and, she thought, locked the cat door to prevent her from getting back upstairs. Better she should bother her real owner in the basement than my crotch in the living room. Unfortunately, the door proved too tricky for Jenn to operate in the dark at four in the morning with no glasses on, and less than an hour later, the stupid cat was back and had gotten stuck in the blinds about two feet from my head, proving that she doesn't need to fight the other cat to sound like she is killing babies.

Needless to say, I am so sleep deprived that I am almost passing out as I write this.

I hate that cat.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Weird Dreams.

Last night, I had, like a dozen just out-there vivid dreams, but the only one I remember is this one where my brother and I were playing Atari 2600 and he gives me this ice cream cone (cookies and cream in a flat-bottom cone, since I know you weirdos are going to ask). That is the one I can remember, because I said to myself as he gave me the ice cream cone, "Well, this must be a dream. He wouldn't give me an ice cream cone. He's mad at me because of that whole thing, which is too bad, because I like ice cream."