![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Feeling Better
Aug. 26th, 2008 02:45 pmYeah: First off, that. This probably has a lot to do with the fact that I finally decided to get back on the Atkins Diet horse, so today makes it three days thus far without bread, potatoes, pasta, fruit or sweets. And sure, I've fallen down here and there--once per day, usually--but things are already pretty different in terms of anxiety, gut-discomfort and mood. My brain seems to have unwrapped itself from a couple of layers of cotton wool, and I'm getting good ideas, making okay time on some of them, etc.
Now, a (very) brief run-down of what's happened since we last talked--
Friday: Went out to a double birthday for Steve's friends Peter and Chris. Many of Peter's wife Alma's Albanian relatives were there, drinks were drunk, a good time was had (though the seedy feeling I had the next morning after certainly contributed to my trying-Atkins-again call). Got the chance to talk with "normal people" about various subjects, most interestingly what they thought of the new Canadian-made, U.S.-bought series Flashpoint. There'd been an article in the paper the day before to the effect of "gee this looks good and it's nice to see Toronto used as itself, but although they've got good characters/actors, the plots seem a bit cliche--don't we have to do better?"; however, everyone at the party really liked it, and they weren't being paid to think about it one way or the other. This may well be why Flashpoint's already been approved for a Season Two. Personally, I remember exactly the same smack being talked about Without a Trace and Cold Squad the year(s) they started, and thus believe it may yet turn out to be one of those slow-burn success stories--the kind of show where you turn around five, six or ten years later and blurt: "Shit, is (JAG, NCIS, Wanted, The Ghost Whisperer, etc.) still on the air?" Which doesn't sound very flattering, I guess...but I'm watchin' nevertheless, faithfully, every Thursday at 10 PM.
Saturday: Missed our screening for Music & Movement at the Geneva Centre, due to idiocy (we literally stopped short in the middle of the street as I glanced at my watch and yelled: "SHIT!"...but then again, I sort of do recall saying to Steve several times in the preceding week that I expected him to run Cal up there, and he obviously forgot every Goddamn time). Then off to the Festival of Fear, where a wonderful time was had with all the usual (lonesome_crow, marcy_italiano, gsguitar, strange, gordrollo, jack_yoniga, kelpqueen, Richard Gavin, his daughter and wife, amongst others) and unusual (glamberson, Gary Frank) suspects, plus many other people who I apologize in advance for not name-checking or recalling. I bought some DVDs and am working my way through them, talked shop about novel-writing with those who've written novels, scouted out some prospects, was energized by chatting about stuff I love with fellow enthusiasts. A great evening, only made more so by the fact that I didn't drink or break my diet.
On my way back, meanwhile, I walked through the tail-end of that day's Buskerfest, and stumbled by complete accident across what we'd vaguely loitered around trying to find earlier that day (before being defeated by smoke and mugginess): A performance by the breakdance duo Pulp, featuring Gavin Tran and Robert Moraine (of Ikea commercials and So You Think You Can Dance? Season 4 fame). Tran is tiny, quick and athletic, while Moraine (tall, eel-thin, multiply double-jointed) is a genuine freak of nature. Buzzed, I picked up some stuff at Dominion and went home.
Sunday: Strike One--Steve didn't tell me Mom wanted to keep our usual workout appointment. Strike Two--she wanted us at her place for lunch, so a friend could see Cal, but we got caught in a massive downpour and trapped inside a bus shelter. Got to her place, utterly soaked, to discover she'd made gluten-free French Toast and expected me to eat it. I did. On the way home, we (non-accidentally) caught Pulp again, which Steve loved and Cal sort of enjoyed (eventually). Later that night, we watched The Condemned, a rip-off of Battle Royale starring Stone Cold Steve Austin which was actually really smart, twisty and vicious; I don't think I've seen quite so many unrepeantant assholes in one place since Die Hard. Then on to...
Monday: ...which was mainly about running Cal around, preparing for today's Surrey Place IBI assessment and Friday's meeting with his school principal, next week's entry into JK, etc. But I did manage to work out, making me two for four. I also got good news concerning two poems I wrote on Friday ("Tantalus, Reaching Upwards" and "Minotaur"), which ChiZine's interested in, and another project I've been invited to contribute to, which I'll discuss once they say I can. Then Canadian Idol and bed, but not before I got an amazing idea for a challenge which involves producing an entire novel before a certain very close, very tight deadline. More on that later too, maybe.
Tuesday: And so we end up in there here 'n' now. Surrey Place went "well", but I have a strong feeling Cal won't be considered autistic enough to qualify--they've been told to screen for kids who are at the upper end of the spectrum, and while he's many things, he ain't that. ("Maybe we should have lied--told them he has tantrums all the time, bangs his head," Mom suggested. "Well, he was right in the room with us," I said. "I think they might've caught on.") Which means, I suppose, that we're going to be paying for truncated IBI and stumping for JK to hammer at prompting him socially for quite some time to come. Ah well. Now's as good a time as any to absorb that information (ie, while I'm feeling better).
...more later, perhaps. Ta, all.;)
Now, a (very) brief run-down of what's happened since we last talked--
Friday: Went out to a double birthday for Steve's friends Peter and Chris. Many of Peter's wife Alma's Albanian relatives were there, drinks were drunk, a good time was had (though the seedy feeling I had the next morning after certainly contributed to my trying-Atkins-again call). Got the chance to talk with "normal people" about various subjects, most interestingly what they thought of the new Canadian-made, U.S.-bought series Flashpoint. There'd been an article in the paper the day before to the effect of "gee this looks good and it's nice to see Toronto used as itself, but although they've got good characters/actors, the plots seem a bit cliche--don't we have to do better?"; however, everyone at the party really liked it, and they weren't being paid to think about it one way or the other. This may well be why Flashpoint's already been approved for a Season Two. Personally, I remember exactly the same smack being talked about Without a Trace and Cold Squad the year(s) they started, and thus believe it may yet turn out to be one of those slow-burn success stories--the kind of show where you turn around five, six or ten years later and blurt: "Shit, is (JAG, NCIS, Wanted, The Ghost Whisperer, etc.) still on the air?" Which doesn't sound very flattering, I guess...but I'm watchin' nevertheless, faithfully, every Thursday at 10 PM.
Saturday: Missed our screening for Music & Movement at the Geneva Centre, due to idiocy (we literally stopped short in the middle of the street as I glanced at my watch and yelled: "SHIT!"...but then again, I sort of do recall saying to Steve several times in the preceding week that I expected him to run Cal up there, and he obviously forgot every Goddamn time). Then off to the Festival of Fear, where a wonderful time was had with all the usual (lonesome_crow, marcy_italiano, gsguitar, strange, gordrollo, jack_yoniga, kelpqueen, Richard Gavin, his daughter and wife, amongst others) and unusual (glamberson, Gary Frank) suspects, plus many other people who I apologize in advance for not name-checking or recalling. I bought some DVDs and am working my way through them, talked shop about novel-writing with those who've written novels, scouted out some prospects, was energized by chatting about stuff I love with fellow enthusiasts. A great evening, only made more so by the fact that I didn't drink or break my diet.
On my way back, meanwhile, I walked through the tail-end of that day's Buskerfest, and stumbled by complete accident across what we'd vaguely loitered around trying to find earlier that day (before being defeated by smoke and mugginess): A performance by the breakdance duo Pulp, featuring Gavin Tran and Robert Moraine (of Ikea commercials and So You Think You Can Dance? Season 4 fame). Tran is tiny, quick and athletic, while Moraine (tall, eel-thin, multiply double-jointed) is a genuine freak of nature. Buzzed, I picked up some stuff at Dominion and went home.
Sunday: Strike One--Steve didn't tell me Mom wanted to keep our usual workout appointment. Strike Two--she wanted us at her place for lunch, so a friend could see Cal, but we got caught in a massive downpour and trapped inside a bus shelter. Got to her place, utterly soaked, to discover she'd made gluten-free French Toast and expected me to eat it. I did. On the way home, we (non-accidentally) caught Pulp again, which Steve loved and Cal sort of enjoyed (eventually). Later that night, we watched The Condemned, a rip-off of Battle Royale starring Stone Cold Steve Austin which was actually really smart, twisty and vicious; I don't think I've seen quite so many unrepeantant assholes in one place since Die Hard. Then on to...
Monday: ...which was mainly about running Cal around, preparing for today's Surrey Place IBI assessment and Friday's meeting with his school principal, next week's entry into JK, etc. But I did manage to work out, making me two for four. I also got good news concerning two poems I wrote on Friday ("Tantalus, Reaching Upwards" and "Minotaur"), which ChiZine's interested in, and another project I've been invited to contribute to, which I'll discuss once they say I can. Then Canadian Idol and bed, but not before I got an amazing idea for a challenge which involves producing an entire novel before a certain very close, very tight deadline. More on that later too, maybe.
Tuesday: And so we end up in there here 'n' now. Surrey Place went "well", but I have a strong feeling Cal won't be considered autistic enough to qualify--they've been told to screen for kids who are at the upper end of the spectrum, and while he's many things, he ain't that. ("Maybe we should have lied--told them he has tantrums all the time, bangs his head," Mom suggested. "Well, he was right in the room with us," I said. "I think they might've caught on.") Which means, I suppose, that we're going to be paying for truncated IBI and stumping for JK to hammer at prompting him socially for quite some time to come. Ah well. Now's as good a time as any to absorb that information (ie, while I'm feeling better).
...more later, perhaps. Ta, all.;)
