My mother got this fabulous book out of the library for me - "The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club" (Laurie Notaro) It is described as 'true tales from a magnificent and clumsy life.' Sounds like me, doesn't it?

Anybody who knows me, knows I'm a klutz. I mean, I walk into doors, walls, furniture; My balance in awful - just ask James(Bregon) about the wind being able to blow Pixies over on trampolines; and I am constantly managing to get sick, or hurt. I think it all started with me jumping off a parade float and breaking my nose, slightly before I started grade one. My mother always tried to convince me that, really, it isn't that I'm a klutz, it's just that I go at life with enthusiasm - never do anything halfway. Hah! Through the course of my childhood, I have had more sprained ankles and wrists than I can count, a broken nose, a broken finger, a dislocated elbow, a dislocated rib, twice have gashed open my left knee, and countless other scrapes, scars and bruises. Most recently, I have delt with a broken foot, and PFS (see previous entries) in my knees.

So, as I have mentioned to my friends and the people around me, for the past two weeks I have been unable to walk properly due to extreme pain in my knees, and have spent quite a large amount of time doped up on codine. I couldn't really straighten my knees all the way, nor bend them all the way. Do you know how hard this makes it to reherse for shows? Immensly. To top that off, today I dropped a lamp on my foot. Well, actually that's not quite true - I picked up a lamp, and nobody had told me it was broken, and the base fell off and landed on my foot. Not, mind you, the one I broke at the end of the summer dancing, but the other one. And, luckily, this lamp was not heavy enough to do any terrible damage except send me curled up into the fetal position crying, and leave a nasty bruise. *sigh*

A magnificent and clumsy life... I have never heard anything describe me so aptly before.

A discovery this morning - my sister is one of those people. Not one of /those/ people (aka Hairspray people) but one of those people. You know the ones. The ones who can climb out of bed in the morning, and look gorgeous, before even stumbling into the bathroom. Her hair hangs beautifully and blonde down, no stray hairs, no fuzzy-ness. She doesn't have huge bags under her eyes, like me, and her skin is practically flawless. Somehow, even when wearing a too small pair of pyjama bottoms and a massive old white shirt with red hearts on it, she looks stunning. You just know that she's going to be one of those people that everyone's attracted to as she gets older. As opposed to me, who gets up and her hair is this fuzzy, tangled web of yuck. Who's eyes are overwhelmed by the black circles under her eyes, and who stares at herself in the mirror cursing the moment she got out of bed.

Why is it that my sister got all the pretty genes?

"Unique?!? Hah! That's just the politically correct way of saying I'm wierd."

"There comes a time in everyone's life when one is expected to put away the fairy tales and buy a daytimer...trade in your favorite halloween costume for a business suit. Stop serving tea to your pets and begin to have real dinner parties. But I didn't get that memo."
--Cynthia Rudzis

Mrow- I've been listening to all this celtic-y music today, and it just keeps reminding me of how much I want to learn to play the violin. Hmm, I wonder if I can find someone who'd teach a 17 year old, who's never ever learned /anything/ on the violin. Although, I would have to track down a violin first. I know we have some at home, but they're /tiny/! We're talking like 4-year old violins, from when Dan and Marc were little. I also want to learn to play the cello. But I figure the violin could come first. I love string instruments! Stupid piano :P Not that I could really ever play the piano well anyway.

Agh! Ability to type failing me. Going now. Oww, my head....

Ani rocks...

i'm losing my love of adventure
i'm losing all respect
for me and myself tonight
i wonder what happens if i get to
the end of this tunnel
and there isn't a light
ive worn down the treads
on all of my tires
i've worn through the elbows
and the knees of my clothing
and i'm stumbling down
the gravel driveway of desire
trying not to wake up
my sleepy self-loathing

do you ever have that dream
when you open your mouth
and you try to scream
but you can't make a sound
that's everyday starting now
that's everyday starting now

dont tell me it's gonna be alright
you can't sell me on your optimism tonight
it's a stiff competition
to see who can stay up later
the stars or the street lights
and all they really want
is to be alone with the darkness
no more wish i may
no more wish i might

it takes a stiff upper lip
just to hold up my face
i gotta suck it up and savor
the taste of my own behavior
i am spinning with longing
faster then a roulette wheel
this is not who i meant to be
this is not how i meant to feel

i don't think i am strong enough
to do this much longer
god, i wish i was stronger
this song could never be long enough
to express every longing
god, i wish it was longer...

I am so blonde somedays, it scares me...

I went to check Lazarus' weblog, and he had a note about how blogger had eaten his comments button. I kid you not when I say that my first thought was, "Hmmm, I should drop him a sympathy note on his comments."

I swear, it's the drugs thinking...

PS: Fox, I named the bear finally. His name is Squishy Fox. I know, highly original. But I can now say, "And I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine, and he shall be my Squishy." *smiles* Thank you again. Love you...

Okay, I had to laugh. I followed this link for a Hobbit name generator off of Myrna's blog, and typed in my name, and this was the hobbit name they gave me...

Lara Sandybanks of Frogmorton

Didn't know you were a hobbit, did you Raven?

As a side note, my Elvish name was Nienna Aldaron. Isn't that pretty? Nienna... hmm, now I want to use that name for something. Anyone interested, the site is at http://www.chriswetherell.com/hobbit/. Enjoy!

At rehersal last night, we worked on 'Food, Glorious Food' for almost 2 hours. Involved with that dance is a lot of kneeling, and sitting on our knees. This usually isn't so bad for me, but last night we were working with our pianist, so we'd have to sit quietly in a certain position for long periods of time while they fixed musical cues and the such. Some of these included sitting on both knees (think Buddhist monks...), standing on our knees (think traditional praying in church...) and sitting on one knee (think proposals.) Well, we all know I have terrible knees, and they did not appreciate this. They went into seizure, and I could barely wlak or stand up they hurt so bad. I could feel myself shaking inside, and was biting down /hard/ on my hand to keep from crying. As the evening progressed, the seizure calmed down, to the point where I could walk carefully, but my balance was shaky and my legs were sore. I got home, wrapped both my knees in ice, and went to bed. Around 4am, I woke up, took off the ice packs, and went back to sleep.

This morning I woke up, unable to move my legs. I couldn't stand up, I couldn't walk. I spent the morning sitting in my bed, with a heat pack over my knees, trying to ignore the extreme pain. I still cannot walk without crutches, or really straighten my legs all the way. It's also insanely painful to bend them, like one would when sitting on a chair. I don't know what I'm going to do... Pretty much the best, and easiest, treatement they have for patellofemoral syndrome is non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDS), which I'm so conveniently allergic to.

I hate my body.

----------------------

For your further information:
"The most common cause of chronic knee pain is the patellofemoral syndrome (PFS). Also informally called "housemaid's knee" or "secretary's knee" and medically termed chondromalacia patella, this condition is named the patellofemoral syndrome because the pain is related to how the kneecap (the patella) slides over the lower end of the thigh bone (the femur). The symptoms of PFS are generally a vague discomfort of the inner knee area, aggravated by activity (running, jumping, climbing or descending stairs) or by prolonged sitting with knees in a moderately bent position (the so called "theater sign" of pain upon arising from a desk or theater seat). Some patients may also have a vague sense of "tightness" or "fullness" in the knee area. Occasionally, if chronic symptoms are ignored, the associated loss of quadriceps (thigh) muscle strength may cause the leg to "give out." Besides an obvious reduction in quadriceps muscle mass, mild swelling of the knee area may occur. What causes PFS? The patella (kneecap) is normally pulled over the end of the femur in a straight line by the quadriceps (thigh) muscle. Patients with PFS have abnormal patellar "tracking" toward the lateral (outer) side of the femur. This slightly-off-kilter pathway allows the undersurface of the patella to grate along the femur causing chronic inflammation and pain. Certain individuals are predisposed to develop PFS—females, knock-kneed or flat-footed runners, or those with an unusually shaped patella undersurface." (MedicineNet.com)

Followed the link off April's journal, and found the results very interesting. I must say other than the bit about being messy, I'd have to agree with it for the most part. And, then again, I can be fairly messy when not in obsessive-compulsive cleaning moments.

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Whew, new links. Yayness. The alt tags aren't as great as they could be, but I may think of better one later. So anyway, give a big warm welcome to Coni, Janice, Myrna and Mike, and show that you love them by going and checking out their sites *grin*

In other news, for like the umpteenth-bizillionth time today, I got up to go take a shower, was halfway across my rrom when I heard the bathrrom door close. I thought, "Hmm, Colette's in the bathroom, well I'll just turn on my computer while I wait." Then I heard the shower start. *grrrrr* Everytime! At least it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I only had to wait for Colette to be done - not Dad, Colette, /and/ Mum. I kid you not, this seriously happened one day. Everytime I'd get up to get the shower, someone else would jump in before me. I considered killing people that day....

Well, I have a very busy day ahead of me. Mini Imagination at 1:00pm - we're building a monster machine, I must be insane. Then Oliver rehersal at 2pm - my class ends at 1:45pm and it's a 20min drive... this should be interesting anyway. After rehersal it's off to Tempest - technically it starts at 5pm, my rehersal ends at 5pm. Wow. I love my overlapping schedule.

But... I wouldn't know what to do with myself if life was easy. Must, multi-task. Off now. Love you!

My world is shattered.... somebody named Marella signed my guest book and under the question, "Are, you a Monty Python fan?" answered, "Who's that?"

Who's that?!?!?! How could someone possibly not know?

How could they have gone their whole lives without ever even hearing a passing reference to the creators of The Holy Grail, The Life of Brian,
The Dead Parrot Sketch, And Now For Something Completely Different, and a song about the Meaning of Life?

How could they have never heard of the brilliant minds behind such quotes as,
"He's not pinin', he's passed on!"
"Help, Help, I'm being repressed!"
"We are now no longer the knights who say Ni! We are the knights who say 'Ecky-ecky-ecky-ecky-pikang-zoop-boing-goodem-zoo-owli-zhiv."
"I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you PAY!"
"Bring out your dead!"
"NO ONE expects the Spanish Inquistion!!"
"I wanted to be... a LUMBERJACK!"
"A pointy stick, eh? Think you're better than us, eh? Too good for fresh fruit, eh?"
"Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more say no more. If you know what I mean"
"Spam spam spam spam Spam spam spam spam"
and one of my all time favourites, "Of course I am French. Why else would I be speaking with this outrageous accent?"

My heart wept for this poor person.

I have this magic wand, and please no sexual jokes, this is serious. I got it a long time ago, when I was very little. It's hard plastic, filled with this goopy pink sparkly concotion. It also has sparkly stars and moons in it, and when you shake it around the stuff runs from one end to the other. It came out when 'Where's Waldo' was a big thing, and supposedly had a little Waldo piece in it. Well over the time I've have it I've searched and searched and searched but never found Waldo. I finally came to the conclusion that there was not, in fact, a Waldo, but hey, it still made an awesome magic wand prop.

When I started teaching my Mini-Imagination classes, I brought the wand with me. It seemed the sort of thing that would appeal to 3-5 year olds. At the beginning of each class we would sit in a circle and pass the wand about, and each kid would get to answer a question about their day, or their favourite fill-in-the-blank. Whoever had the wand was the only one who got to talk. They really enjoyed it.

Today I taught the class from hell. I'm serious, it was the most horrendous class I have ever taught. I blame Halloween. They wouldn't listen, they wouldn't cooperate, they kept pushing eachother. Made me want to scream at them. Instead, every five minutes I had to sit them all down against the wall and lecture them on how we were suppose to behave in class, and how we listen to our teacher and all that. I hated every moment of it. That's not what those classes are suppose to be about. But as time always passes, the 45minutes were finally over, and I asked the parents to come in for a moment so I could let them know about next week's project. ((Editor's Note: Star and/or Eric, remind me to tell you about this at some point.)) While I was talking, K (a little female hellion) snuck over to my bag and grabbed the magic wand out of it. She started running around the room, waving it, and I figured I would just let her so as to get the talking done as soon as possible.

But then... then she threw the wand across the room and it hit the floor with a sickening shatter. Sparkles, pink goop and plastic shards went everywhere. I couldn't believe it. The wand that I had had for so many years, that had seen so much, that had played in every game possible, that had been the bit to finish many a costume, was gone. Shattered across the floor.

I didn't cry, I didn't yell, I just picked up the pieces carefully, and wiped up the mess. As I left, I looked into the garbage can one last time. I felt my eyes water as I stared at the remnants of childhood memories, thrown away. Tonight, they'll empty that can into the dumpster, and in a few days a garbage truck will come and take it away. And my childhood will go to the dump to decompose, to be forgotten.

You wouldn't think that something this little would make me break down, but.... I wasn't ready to throw away my childhood just yet. And there are some things that are too old to be replaced. Those kinds of toys just aren't made anymore. They aren't what kids these days want. They're too simple.

It feels silly to cry over something like this, but I can't help it. I just watched a piece of my childhood be shattered and thrown away. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Sparkles, pink goop, and plastic shards everywhere. Shattered across the floor. I guess I'll never really know whether there was a Waldo or not.