I have had a fantastic weekend!

Leaving out the fever last night with the really bad aches, pains, and chills, that is. So if we cut the weekend off at around three o�clock Sunday afternoon, I have had the best weekend in months.

Friday night I had a three and a half hour dinner with MLG at Hurley�s. Not only was it not crowded, they actually had cider this time! We had a window seat so we could watch the funny people outside, the sun go down and the stars come out. We talked and talked and talked about all sorts of stuff – I haven�t felt that comfortable and carefree in quite some time. I laughed a lot too.

Three hours into the evening I confessed that I had thought this dinner meeting had been to plot in further detail the return of my original RSW character in the next day�s NSW game. (MLG is, of course, the brilliant architect and GM of NSW.) Struck by the coolness of this idea, he paid the bill (for which I thank him yet again) and we went back to his place to game for almost two hours. Bliss!

This being married thing is okay � it has its pros and cons � but one of those dual pros/cons is that constantly have someone to do stuff with. Hence you don�t necessarily go hang out with someone else for six hours on a Friday night very often. (Particularly the ending up at his place bit � I know that a lot of people would have gone ballistic over that part. Even though there was a net-fest going on in the next room.) I have, however, decided that I will indeed do this more often. It felt glorious to know that I didn�t have to be somewhere else.

The secondary bonus of having Friday night out with MLG is that it made the return of Ambassador-Jedi Saiyedra Dubh a complete surprise in Saturday�s game. Okay, it was a desire expressed by three of the five players at different times, but no one technically knew it was actually going to happen other than myself and the GM (who had asked me privately to bring the character back). As wonderful as it is, I�m a bit miffed and amused that the game took a sudden shift earlier in the session and I actually began to enjoy the pilot character I had been having difficulty playing. An added and unexpected bonus! All in all, a wonderful session.

Saturday night we went from the game to my in-laws� place for dinner: barbecued ribs, red wine or Alexander Keith�s (depending on your preference), and East Coast music. Divine! I fell asleep on the couch an hour or so after dinner, and we went home.

Sunday morning I had that guest speaker spot at a local group�s brunch meeting. Designing Rituals went as well the second time as it did the first! Lots of very interesting discussion, a wonderful cat, good bacon (I�m really picky about my bacon), mini quiches and apple muffins. The time change played a bit of havoc with the starting time, but everyone was nice and relaxed. A wonderful experience, and a terrific group of people.

We then came home and curled up with good music and books. I started to get stiff and a bit cold, so I decided to go lie down for a while. When my husband woke me up two and a half hours later to get ready to go to the ritual scheduled for last night I couldn�t move without severe pain, couldn�t stop shivering if I wriggled out from under the pile of covers I had on top of me, and couldn�t string three coherent words together. So he called our host and sent our regrets, which really annoyed me because I�d been looking forward to this meeting. Instead, he made me chicken noodle soup with crackers, and he even got me ice cream later. At 9 pm I felt better enough to get out of bed and curl up under a blanket to try to watch Star Trek: The Motion Picture when it came on, but not well enough to watch it past the point where they entered the cloud. The commercial breaks every four minutes were driving me insane.

So I slept good and hard, woke up this morning, changed more clocks (how many clocks do I have, anyway?), made a pot of peppermint tea. My day�s schedule includes correcting exams and assignments for tonight�s class, and most definitely a nap.

I have a lot of people to thank for such a fun-filled weekend. Thank you, all!

That Mercedes Lackey book was, as I expected, pretty vanilla with the occasional caramel swirl. Which was exactly what I wanted, of course. After fifteen years, you get to know an author.

So we’re looking at selling our SUV. Granted, it’s now worth more than we owe on it, and we talked about this last year and decided to stick with it as an investment – in another two years when it’s all paid off, we’ll have a seventeen thousand dollar asset, as well as a relatively new, solid vehicle that could see us through another decade. Recently, though, we’ve been looking at rising gas prices, and the now very bare savings accounts, and thinking that a secondhand station wagon could replace it just fine, thank you. So we’re teetering on the edge of a pretty big decision, and doing research on the going rates of a private sale versus trading in and such things. We both adore Saturns – my mother drives one – and so we’re looking in that direction.

This is unfortunate. The SUV is a happy thing. My husband loves it. It’s reliable, especially in Montreal winters (no, no, the usual Montreal winters, not the wussy thing we just came though!), on long drives (like Pennsylvania, Halifax and Toronto), it carries big stuff like piles of lumber and beds and couches. People, too. Now, I know a station wagon would carry mostly the same stuff, is perfectly capable of long-distance drives, will cost less in gas and insurance, and (big bonus here) I’ll be more comfortable driving it. It will also be easier to get future little car seats in and out of. It’s just… it sort of feels like we’re letting someone or something down. As enthusiastic as my husband is about making this wise and beneficial decision, I can’t help but wonder if he feels like he’s losing out somehow. If he’s forfeiting one of his toys, so to speak. He’s a big guy; he likes big vehicles. They fit him better. (He fits in them better too.)

This was his idea, though, and his painfully new-found desire to save as much as possible in case he’s ever out of work again appears to be off-setting any sense of loss he might be feeling. I’m very aware of the sacrifice he’s making, even if he’s not.

By the way: If you saw The Gondoliers, and you remember that pretty lead soprano and killer dancer who played Gianetta, send good thoughts in her direction – she’s performing a semi-final vocal recital at McGill. Go Christina – knock ’em dead!

I forgot. While we drove to Toronto I hit number seven in my Roll Up The Rim To Lose streak.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled surfing.

Funny how I can swing from, �Why do we let ourselves become burdened, stressed, concerned with what’s wrong in our lives? What does it – any of it – matter in the end? What it all comes down to is you, your friends, your family; your level of peace, the love you feel: what’s right on your life� to �I feel so wrung out that I don�t think I can do it any more. I hate feeling like this, because I feel like I�m letting people down […] I keep telling myself that being miserable builds character. You know what? It’s not a heck of a lot of fun while you’re at it. I’d rather have fun again.�

I think my problem is I�ve forgotten how to have fun. Or I haven�t learned how to have new fun, since the old stuff doesn�t do it for me any more.

I�m really getting tired.

Star Wars on Saturday, though! New Star Wars (NSW), the sequel to Real Star Wars (RSW), which was so named to distinguish it from the Ep1 hype that became unavoidable halfway through the campaign.

My Protection seminar went quite well on Tuesday night; in two weeks I teach a Basic Spellcasting (in which I clear up a lot of misconceptions) and there are eight (!) people signed up for it. Eep!

On top of that, my Designing Rituals seminar was such a success that I have been asked to teach it privately to a local group. I�m stunned.

Teaching is fun. Work, but fun. And orchestra last night was fun � except that I had actually practised the dreadful Bizet and all the hard bits from the Schubert, and when I got there we were given three new pieces of music: Mozart�s 26th, Beethoven�s 1st, and Rossini�s Semiramis overture. Any Beethoven is incredibly satisfying to play, and the Mozart was fun too. Rossini is a blast to listen to, but a pain to perform, I discovered last night. With concentration and work (ick!) I can tell that it will be satisfying too. (I just wish they could have chosen something like the overture to La Cenerentola, or La scala di seta, or La gazza ladra.) I am, however, much happier overall if we�ll be sticking to these.

So maybe I just haven�t figured out what qualifies as �fun� in my ever-evolving microcosm. Other than NSW, that is. And Buffy.

Strawberry cream chocolates should not have neon pink fillings.

I�m back! I love visiting my parents; good food, good wine, and always an interesting selection of guests. As I murmured in the middle of the dinner party on Friday night, �Dinner with my parents � a spectator sport�. You have to be on the ball, have sharpened your wit before arriving at table, and be ready to laugh.

As for the good food, highlights of this weekend�s gastronomical journey include seafood and chicken paella, velvet fennel and potato soup, a killer triple rack of lamb, rosemary and walnut polenta, a semi-fredo with caramel sauce, and white chocolate-strawberry tarts, along with a splendid merlot that they apparently serve at Parliament as well.

The weather was great � highs between 10 � and 15� C, sunny patches � real sunny patches � followed by rain � warm rain! � followed by sun again. My winter coat was too warm, so I went out and found a jaunty little dark red raincoat that I adore � on sale! (Took me ages to decide on it – I kept saying, �But I should buy black!�) I spent time in the newly refinished den, where my parents have taken down the dark panelling and painted it in two tones of pale yellow, put up white baseboards and chair rails, and generally made it seem as if you could walk through the triple window at one end of the room across a gently sloping lawn to the ocean. (We could probably pull that off � we�d have to flatten the back neighbour�s house, but Mum�s been looking for an excuse to do that for ages now.) We mourned the Queen Mum. We watched Trudeau on CBC. We watched the Canadian Junior Men’s team take it down to last rock to win the World Juniors. I read three books.

Then we came home, and I felt like I�d been slammed back into a two-dimensional world. For the past nine or so months, life�s been getting harder and harder, and tempers shorter and shorter, and patience running pretty close to worn out. As soon as I walked in the door, it all settled back onto my shoulders like some dreadful mantle. Life will be much, much better when I don�t feel like I have to keep reminding my husband of all the things he has to do (which can always be �done later� since he has no fixed schedule), and when I don�t feel like I have to make excuses when people ask me how far he�s progressed on a promised project, or how the job hunt is going.

For everyone�s info, he�s joined a landscaping firm and will be out of the house in two weeks. I mean, he will be gainfully employed in two weeks. Um, how about outside and getting exercise in the fresh air in two weeks?

For some reason, having a formal schedule with a lump of time already taken up makes everyone plan things out better, and renders them more capable of hitting deadlines. When you�ve got oceans of time and floating deadlines, it�s harder to discipline yourself. I know this. I sympathise with this. However, there comes a time when I�m not sympathetic any more. My sympathy gets all used up. I take my commitments pretty seriously, so if I suspect (irrationally or with reason) that someone�s not taking their commitments as seriously as I am, I get irritated. I know these past months have been hard for my husband as well, dealing with his sense of self-worth and his value and all that. I�ve been supportive. I know that as my temper gets shorter, he has more to deal with as well. I�ve given leeway.

Now, though, I feel so wrung out that I don�t think I can do it any more. I hate feeling like this, because I feel like I�m letting people down � my husband, co-workers, friends, orchestra, students� me included. I know, I know, I�m only human, we can�t be perfect all the time, etcetera. It feels dreadful, though. All I want to do as a result is go away and be alone somewhere until I�m ready to come out and be a productive member of society again.

I keep telling myself that being miserable builds character. You know what? It’s not a heck of a lot of fun while you’re at it. I’d rather have fun again.