Om nom nom.

Look who was in town this weekend! Genie Holly!

Leah made a delicious meal for everyone in honour of her visit, and I Sarah the picky eater, COULD NOT GET ENOUGH. Some crazy bean dip appetizer, vegetarian lasagna for the meal and Guinness chocolate cake WITH cream cheese icing ANDDD strawberry rhubarb pie for dessert. Top it all off with oodles of wine and French-press coffee.

My tummy. Was so soar. Oh man, best meal of 2010 hands down. Can I have your recipe for the cake Leah... And the lasagna? Please oh please! E-mail or comment it or something, I need to try and recreate that extravagant experience.

It was nice to see the Tookster again, since it has been practically a year since our last conversation. I can't wait until I have to just turn on the television to get my daily Holly fix. :) (For the record, I picture her in a Disney show... or maybe a teenager in some sitcom - would you agree?)

I kick baby seals (but not penguins).

I like when the news has nice stories. And really awesome stories of seal justice. ERGHHH, PETA. If someone is reading this and thinks the seal hunt "scandal" is worthy of terrifying costumes and pies in politicians' faces - GO AWAY.

My head is splitting today. You know that episode of The Simpsons where Homer is in 3D and at the end, while he falls into the "real world" he gets split up into a million and one pieces? That's pretty much the kind of headache I'm battling right now. (Clip found here, though in German lolz, the part I'm referring to can be found at 6:15 if you are truly curious.)

Spent last night not playing Risk with the loveliest of the lovelys. We watched Dr. Suess and war propaganda cartoons instead, hilarious really and truly. And Felix the Cat!!! Oh man, does that bring back the childhood memories.

Tonight Alex and I will be heading to the Blue Rodeo concert, perhaps followed by an evening of dancing doontoon. Shall I see you there?

We were meant to live for so much more.

I have big dreams for 2010. Mind-blowing all encompassing goals. I won't post them all here. Or any. And these aren't resolutions, I cannot fail to accomplish them. They are things to strive for, ideas to contemplate and emotions that need feeling.

What I'm trying to say is, don't worry and be happy. You're living the life you were meant to lead.

P.S. Yes, those are my babies. They are blonde and adorable and today we baked cookies.

Shudder shock of pale.

I'm piecing my peace back together, how about you?

I've felt on edge, out of sorts and completely consumed with MYSELF this past week. This past month. Or two.

When I'm going about my daily livings, one of two things will occur:

1. I feel like an absolute and massively cumbersome idiot. How is it Sarah, that you can spend so much time talking about what you're "going to do" and so little time doing it? How is it Sarah, that you cannot find the words or actions to properly comfort/encourage/love someone who needs it? How is it Sarah, that you cannot finish a degree in the same time span it takes everyone else? HOW DO YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF?!

2. Or, I feel like everybody around is me a complete and total idiot. How is it McDonald's worker, that you do not know the difference between a plain sandwich and one that is covered in condiment and vegetables? How is it truck/car/van driver, that you have your license when you cannot signal to turn/merge properly/DRIVE? How is it boyfriend/best friend/family member that you cannot grasp these simple concepts I have properly outlined for you? HOW DID I GET TO BE SO MUCH SMARTER THAN EVERY ASSHAT IN THIS CITY?!

It's a funny thing, this coexisting. I never was a team player.

You know how when girls are middle school-ish age they all want to be the Hannah Montanas of the world? They dream of big stages and bright lights. Or at least, I would assume (through my careful observations as a nanny) that the average young girl does.

When I was in grade seven I fell in love with... Emily Dickinson. Although I still find her poetry astonishingly beautiful, it was her life that enthralled me when I first read of her. She was a total recluse, who never left her house and kept in touch with the important people in her life through letters. She wasn't even a known poet until after her death, when all of her poems were discovered in her room.

At the tender age of twelve, I would dream of myself becoming a reclusive poetess. It seems, much to my befuddlement, that my path to this point has been a steady one.

Mind you my tale is set in this new era - blog entries and text messages are my choice of correspondence. My poetry is a bunch of scribbles, quotes and words that rest in the coil-bound journal in my purse. Or on this site.

This post was supposed to be about the music I've been enjoying lately. It somehow progressed here. Why fight it?

But in case you need to be inspired by others through the art of song, have a listen to one, two and three.

I know that bad's got to fix itself.

I had a camera inside my body today. Ain't that cool?

It was a new one for me on the growing list of Sarah's Pointless Medical Tests. Though now that I think about it, I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner.

Now you're thinking... the female body has seven orifices, which one?! It was not my pooper, no worries. But my left nostril saw action that no nose should ever have to deal with (the right one got just a mere tickling in comparison)!

El doctoro shoved a half of a pea sized camera down my nose and into my throat to check for the bad stuff. With absolutely NO warning I might add!!! Just a "chin up" and swish into my nose. I cried.

My appointment with the specialist (ENT) this morning gave me four things that doctor visits always bestow upon me:
1. Invasive and uncomfortable tests
2. Promises/Papers to get more invasive and uncomfortable tests
3. Appointments with other doctors (yup, they're sending me to a different specialist now)
4. No answers

Are you guys sick of hearing me talk about this? I AM SO TIRED ABOUT TALKING ABOUT THIS. I feel like I've been on repeat for the past four years of my life. Seriously, go through the blog posts. Countless ones about illness, doctor's visits, medicine prescriptions, body meltdowns, sick days and everything else that makes me want to give up and live with sub-par health for as long as people with sub-par health live.

Whiny whiny whiny whiny whine whine whiny whiny. Bitch moan bitch bitch moan.

Am I overreacting? Am I a fucking hypochondriac? I hope so, I just don't want to be a Fran Drescher or a Kylie Minogue.