A lot to go over.
Well, 
mea_tempestas was totally right - she does always find a way for things to work out.
I worked all Saturday and Sunday cleaning the space, and picking up a few things we still needed - I had a little bit of extra money, and it was so important to me that everyone be as comfortable as possible. Justin was working all day Saturday, but was around on Sunday. He was quite driven to get everything finished; the place has never looked so good.
We got up early on Sunday so that everything woud get completed by five - but we were woken early by a crash. This happens every so often, Trevor winds through something he shouldn't, chasing a fly or a bug. Usually it's not a huge deal - something gets spilled - but I always try to get up and figure it out right away. It took a while this time, for once, the problem was in the bathroom. We have two huge, beautiful blown glass pieces on the windowsill of the bathroom, over the toilet. He'd knocked it over, and it had landed upside down, in the toilet. Nothing was broken. I rinsed it off, replaced it, and went back to get a little more sleep.
We rushed around a lot the next day, finally putting away a few things, hiding tools and paint cans in the bedroom closet. The last thing I needed to do before everyone arrived, was clean the toilet.
As I swished the brush around, I noticed a black spot. It looked as if the toilet was actually chrome, or black underneath, and the white coating was chipping away. I rubbed it a bit with the brush, it got bigger. I thought of a few things I could use later on to fill the chip, and finished up. I flushed the toilet and began to notice the large amount of water on the floor. It cracked quickly, and three large chunks of porcelain fell out of the underside. The dark spot wasn't black under white - it was a hole. Everyone would arrive in 15 minutes. We only have one bathroom, so this was a problem. Justin caulked the hole, and we asked everyone when they did get there, to give it an hour or so. And it held.
My nervous-ness was replaced by self-counciousness and guilt - I had been under the impression that this was a party for Father's Day, for gathering, just becuase. I hadn't gathered that it was for US. The gifts were unexpected and unneccescary, and I feel still, ungrateful, ungracious, selfish. I interpreted it as a space invasion; miffed because I might have had plans - well I didn't have plans, and "let us come over" was "let us come love you." And it's a love that I still feel very undeserving of.
Dad paid for (and brought out) a brand new 10,000 BTU air conditioner. It's not installed, the night of the party we nearly died from the heat in our beds. Suzanne and Dolf brought us a 100$ gift certificate to Loblaws, that I will file away and save for an emergency - the kind where we can't afford food. Kathleen brought some amazing organic olive oil hand soap and lotion that matches our kitchen perfectly. I was so elated and touched, the whole time racked by guilt. They brought everything. Ice, pop, food, chips, serving trays, serving utensils, plastic forks, plastic cups and plates - I did nothing. Everyone fit fine, not too close at all.
The more love I get, the more I miss hers. The more people that are around, the more I am reminded that this is a big deal in my life, and I feel so alone and lost. At her funeral I said I'd never been so robbed and yet so blessed. It's a duality that follows me through every major event in my life. I felt like I oozed grief with each breath, and talked incessantly to cover it up.
Dad sold the Douglas house in a day. I remember the first time I saw my mother cry. We only had one bathroom; the house was kind of falling apart. They were trying to make a decision - move to the sub-divisions, row on row of identical houses, four bathrooms, no trees, no yard. But tons of space, a finished basement and a two car garage - for half of what our house was worth. And I was six and on the stairs, listening to her crying because she just loved that house so much - that she had to stay, hoping her selfishness wouldn't cost us all our sanity. It didn't. I had a beautiful, unique, green childhood - living a block away from each of my six best friends. It's too old to be economically restored - not old enough to be protected. Another 25 years, and it might be. I will photograph it soon, to keep it in my memory. I thought I was going to be okay with it, but I'm terribly depressed about it. It's got to be done, but it makes it no easier on me.
I went for my last bathroom stop before bed, and the toilet totally fell apart. I picked up the replacement toilet, a lovely kohler - and Dad said he'd come and help me replace it. I maintain that I COULD have done it myself - I needed some stregnth to ease the pieces in. It's a two person job. I got elbowed out of it though, by Dolf and my Dad. They took over (after Dolf had sufficiently berated me for buying a european toilet) and finished it up while Suzanne and I talked photoshop. She taught me about LAB mode, (something I don't have much use for, because our stuff is all for off-set print press) and I taught her how to use Dust & Scratches properly.
They left at 9:30. Dad will come back to help me with the A/C install.
Have a psyche appointment this afternoon. Since we last saw one another, I moved to the city, bought a condo, Justin changed jobs, Dad sold the house... I'm a different person. I suppose I'll transfer to another psychiatrist in Toronto, but we've only just grown comfortable with one another. She does talk too quietly though. I've got to grab a new lock for our locker and deposit some cheques. And maybe, somewhere in there, gather my thoughts.
mea_tempestas was totally right - she does always find a way for things to work out.
I worked all Saturday and Sunday cleaning the space, and picking up a few things we still needed - I had a little bit of extra money, and it was so important to me that everyone be as comfortable as possible. Justin was working all day Saturday, but was around on Sunday. He was quite driven to get everything finished; the place has never looked so good.
We got up early on Sunday so that everything woud get completed by five - but we were woken early by a crash. This happens every so often, Trevor winds through something he shouldn't, chasing a fly or a bug. Usually it's not a huge deal - something gets spilled - but I always try to get up and figure it out right away. It took a while this time, for once, the problem was in the bathroom. We have two huge, beautiful blown glass pieces on the windowsill of the bathroom, over the toilet. He'd knocked it over, and it had landed upside down, in the toilet. Nothing was broken. I rinsed it off, replaced it, and went back to get a little more sleep.
We rushed around a lot the next day, finally putting away a few things, hiding tools and paint cans in the bedroom closet. The last thing I needed to do before everyone arrived, was clean the toilet.
As I swished the brush around, I noticed a black spot. It looked as if the toilet was actually chrome, or black underneath, and the white coating was chipping away. I rubbed it a bit with the brush, it got bigger. I thought of a few things I could use later on to fill the chip, and finished up. I flushed the toilet and began to notice the large amount of water on the floor. It cracked quickly, and three large chunks of porcelain fell out of the underside. The dark spot wasn't black under white - it was a hole. Everyone would arrive in 15 minutes. We only have one bathroom, so this was a problem. Justin caulked the hole, and we asked everyone when they did get there, to give it an hour or so. And it held.
My nervous-ness was replaced by self-counciousness and guilt - I had been under the impression that this was a party for Father's Day, for gathering, just becuase. I hadn't gathered that it was for US. The gifts were unexpected and unneccescary, and I feel still, ungrateful, ungracious, selfish. I interpreted it as a space invasion; miffed because I might have had plans - well I didn't have plans, and "let us come over" was "let us come love you." And it's a love that I still feel very undeserving of.
Dad paid for (and brought out) a brand new 10,000 BTU air conditioner. It's not installed, the night of the party we nearly died from the heat in our beds. Suzanne and Dolf brought us a 100$ gift certificate to Loblaws, that I will file away and save for an emergency - the kind where we can't afford food. Kathleen brought some amazing organic olive oil hand soap and lotion that matches our kitchen perfectly. I was so elated and touched, the whole time racked by guilt. They brought everything. Ice, pop, food, chips, serving trays, serving utensils, plastic forks, plastic cups and plates - I did nothing. Everyone fit fine, not too close at all.
The more love I get, the more I miss hers. The more people that are around, the more I am reminded that this is a big deal in my life, and I feel so alone and lost. At her funeral I said I'd never been so robbed and yet so blessed. It's a duality that follows me through every major event in my life. I felt like I oozed grief with each breath, and talked incessantly to cover it up.
Dad sold the Douglas house in a day. I remember the first time I saw my mother cry. We only had one bathroom; the house was kind of falling apart. They were trying to make a decision - move to the sub-divisions, row on row of identical houses, four bathrooms, no trees, no yard. But tons of space, a finished basement and a two car garage - for half of what our house was worth. And I was six and on the stairs, listening to her crying because she just loved that house so much - that she had to stay, hoping her selfishness wouldn't cost us all our sanity. It didn't. I had a beautiful, unique, green childhood - living a block away from each of my six best friends. It's too old to be economically restored - not old enough to be protected. Another 25 years, and it might be. I will photograph it soon, to keep it in my memory. I thought I was going to be okay with it, but I'm terribly depressed about it. It's got to be done, but it makes it no easier on me.
I went for my last bathroom stop before bed, and the toilet totally fell apart. I picked up the replacement toilet, a lovely kohler - and Dad said he'd come and help me replace it. I maintain that I COULD have done it myself - I needed some stregnth to ease the pieces in. It's a two person job. I got elbowed out of it though, by Dolf and my Dad. They took over (after Dolf had sufficiently berated me for buying a european toilet) and finished it up while Suzanne and I talked photoshop. She taught me about LAB mode, (something I don't have much use for, because our stuff is all for off-set print press) and I taught her how to use Dust & Scratches properly.
They left at 9:30. Dad will come back to help me with the A/C install.
Have a psyche appointment this afternoon. Since we last saw one another, I moved to the city, bought a condo, Justin changed jobs, Dad sold the house... I'm a different person. I suppose I'll transfer to another psychiatrist in Toronto, but we've only just grown comfortable with one another. She does talk too quietly though. I've got to grab a new lock for our locker and deposit some cheques. And maybe, somewhere in there, gather my thoughts.