the lost weekend

Actually, it was the better part of a week: Wednesday the snow storm (and, unbeknownst to me, the highlight of the next few days, with one of those surreal, abandoned-city walks downtown), Thursday home with (sick/cold, slightly feral) Oona, Thursday afternoon *C* came home sick (flu, womiting), Friday I went back to work, taking Oona to daycare and *praying* that she'd make it through the day, and she did, only now it was my turn for the cramps & nausea parade, starting around midday, and because C was already out of commission it was up to me to get Oona home from daycare, so I stuck it out at the office until quitting time, then walked the longest, slowest, three-and-a-half kilometres of my life to the daycare (somewhere along the way I lost a glove -- didn't care -- and wore the remaining one backwards on the wrong hand, for pulling home the sled), got Oona home and went directly to bed, spent Friday night doing some recreational womiting and strictly professional-level fever, Saturday sleeping and reading and not eating and sleeping, and just generally being a dizzy geezer, and by Sunday I'd had enough, so I got up and had a shower and brushed my teeth and started cleaning the house, making sure to wipe down all the door handles, remotes, phones, etc. Then C came halfway down the stairs to tell me she was sick again. Then she went back to bed. But I kept on with the day -- the house was a tip, we had no groceries and there was twenty feet of snow between the back door and the garage.

{Making all of this even more enjoyable is that Oona has started doing a rather reasonable impersonation of a full-blown two year-old: 100% contrarian, not eating unless entertained, maniacally happy when doing something bad (standing on chairs, ripping up magazines, slapping the cat, etc), weeping inconsolably whenever you take something away and all-around just moaning whenever she's bored (which is pretty much all the time). Of course C's remedy (her remedy for everything Oona, really) is that "someone needs to go down for a nap", to which I am highly resistant, because half the time they don't work and even when they do you've thrown the schedule out the window and will pay dearly for this later on. It's just the way she is right now, and will continue to be, while all those brain cells marked "EGO" make new, exciting and highly inconvenient connections.}

I'm told there was a big football game somewhere in here but I can't speak to that. Just as I can't speak to the taste of birthday cake.

Next year I'm cancelling.

Have you ever seen The Lost Weekend? I did, two weeks ago. C said it was noir, but the whole thing is just about how much Ray Milland likes to drink. I need a guy entering a room with a gun. *That's* noir. Not some guy entering a room with a bottle of whiskey. That's called a Nick-ation (after a guy I know who somehow manages to get vacation time away from his family).


  1. You know, as bad as it gets, whenever there is mention of snow, and now sleds (oh, the excitement), I get Dr Zhivago images dancing in my head

    Guess it comes from living in a city where it has never really snowed. Snow evokes images of crackling fires, mulled wine, and sleighs with ponies :-)

    It's hard to appreciate when I'm finding it hard to sleep at night, even with a fan directed at the bed, because of the humidity

    I hope you're all feeling better soon

  2. what a great photo of Ray.

  3. Youre always fucking sick. Now I know you claim to have a "baby," but I teach 2 to 16 year olds and have been TRYING to get them to sneeze on me so I can get a few days off. I cant seem to catch the flu at all. And some students of mine get the mumps! Mumps! I didnt even know that existed anymore!

    In conclusion, I interact with more children and are less sick than you. Get rid of the cats, they're ruining your immune systems.

    Also, have Oona lick the next letter you send me.

  4. Kaz: it's not as romantic as it sounds

    John: that *is* a good photo (the genteel bum)

    Jeannette: the children you interact with don't think poop is viable writing tool.

  5. My mother fancied Ray and I can only now see why.

  6. recreational womiting sounds like a gas

  7. Awww... so sorry your family was sick!

    I'm opposed to the nap thing too - it is hardly fair to put someone to bed whenever they become inconvenient. Saying this, I am a new parent so we'll see what happens in two years...


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