If I can just remember, it'll be okay.

Awake aware alone
Lost and far from home
I walk without these walls
So there is less to fall

I am naked
I have nothing left
My bones are picked clean
And riddled with regrets
Nothing can touch me
I've nothing left to take
For I am naked
But I can never break

Bombarded by brutal events
Like the rays of a sun
Knocked to my knees
By the waves that continued to come
Each time I rise to my feet
I am knocked to the ground
But I am an element
Nothing can break me down

Link after link in a chain
Pulling hard at my limbs
The search party's lost now
The outlook is growing dim
Praying for wisdom
There's nobody left to impart
But I am an atom
And nothing can take me apart

I am naked
I have nothing left
My bones are picked clean
And riddled with regrets
Nothing can touch me
I've nothing left to take
For I am naked
But I can never break

Naked, by Assemblage 23, from the album Failure

Over the Moon

When I departed from England, Jason gave me a set of art cards featuring some of Andy Goldsworthy's winter work.

Because they remind me of my wonderful visit and of my kindred-spirit-cousin - and because they're so beautiful - I decided they needed special treatment. I picked them up today, and I couldn't be more pleased. Tom and I put them up this afternoon, and I have no words to express the pleasure and delight these bring.

Thanks, Jase
x

In the morning, I walked 10K. In the afternoon, I wrestled a lion.

The day started with the Stone Roses. "This is for you, Dan," I said aloud, as I strode off to catch the bus to the MS Walk checkpoint.Well, not really. The day started more like this:

Alarm. Hit snooze. Alarm. Hit snooze. Alarm. Hit snooze. Alarm. Hit snooze. Alarm. Dark. Fumblestumblefindclothes. Search through piles on top of dresser. Aha! Toss. Thump. Aha! Toss. Thump. Aha! Toss. Thump. "Sophe - you okay?" Sleepy mumble. "Yup, love, I'm fine." "Oh, well you were tossing clothes on the bed..." Hmmm. Sports bra. T-shirt. Thermo-soft-red-sporty-top. Thermals. Workout leggings. Looksfunnywiththermals. Other leggings. Zippy black sweater-thing. Rain gear. Socklets. Insanelywhitetrainers. Giant 1-L thermos of teathanksTom.

The day continued with the Stone Roses.

I knew I'd found the checkpoint when I heard the Ozzy Osbourne. Really. 8:30 a.m. Freezing. Zero degrees C (about 30 F). Freezearsefreezearsefreezearsefreezearse. Found Lynn. Opening ceremonies with much talk of freezing weather. FreezefreezefreezeANDTHEY'REOFF!

Trudgetrudgetrudgeinagiantherdofpeopleandexciteddogswearingt-shirts(yesthedogs). The first checkpoint came inhumanly, unreally soon. Then we were halfway and turned for the walk back. Achy calves. Hmmm...not so cold. A cheering crowd to celebrate our return. Free hot dogs and Loblaws PC choccy chip cookies. Hmmm...it actually is still freaking cold. We were obviously delusional (though I prefer to think of it as warm from the walk).

10 K! We walked 10 K! It wasn't so bad, but it sure sounds impressive. Took under an hour and a half. Small price for the incredibly generous $1200 or so donated by so many lovely people. Thank you all!

Lynn, sporting a fine hand-knit hat and scarf:Yours truly, suffering delusions of warmth at the halfway mark.The afternoon was spent in fine company at AlterKnit.

Knitting Royalty [har har] (TitBitBeryl and AmyKnitty, who will just love this photo...):


Crazy friends that make me laugh (Sandi, Jacquie, Jen, and Mel). Lucky, lucky me!

Hang the DJ...and a finished object

'Hang the DJ' sounded more interesting than 'Panic'.

I'm completely squirrelly at the moment. Not sure what's wrong - I'm agitated, and had a panic attack at work today. I fled. Took more antidepressants than usual and plied myself with tea. It sort of helped, but I spent the day pacing the apartment and feeling freezing cold. Weird.

In more delightful news, I finished something! They're for a lovely someone far away. Fetching, from Knitty, knitted in RYC Silk Wool in Greenwood.


Am spending the evening trying to sit still long enough to teach myself to crochet. So far, so good...

See Spot Run...See Soho Dance

Today was a bitch of a day at work. It started off with 14 sneezes, followed by an e-mail in caps to Tom about how I wanted to walk out but would not, and included much mental swearing and not nearly enough presence of mind to zot furiously with my Lego Ring of Power (tm).

And then Tom reminded me that tonight we were going to a showcase of film shorts by our friends at Haberdash Films (I recommend that you check out 'Jedi Breakfast' should you follow the link). I absolutely did not feel like going; all my mental drawers were full (shorts...drawers...?), and I was whipped-exhausted.

I knew it was important to Tom and to our friends - particularly given the nasty-rainy weather and the hockey game, both of which would act as deterrents to many, we suspected - so I made an extra effort to overcome my habitual inclination to hibernate.

The shorts were good fun. I'd seen a number of them, but many bear repeat watchings.

And afterwards...oh, afterwards...we were treated to a performance by See Spot Run. I knew of them, as they've had some radio play with a couple of singles over the past few years, but had never seen them before - didn't even know what they looked like. They're friends of Brad and the Haberdash guys, so it seemed natural that they'd play at the screening. It's such a different experience seeing a band live versus recorded material. On the radio, they sound so nice and alternative and poppy and clean, somehow, but in concert, they're absolutely knockout-mad, with loads of guitar and bizarre hopping, leaping and bouncing. Far superior, I think, and a much truer picture of their talent and style.

There were about 20 people in the audience. Chris, the lead singer, indicated a few times that we shouldn't be afraid to dance. After a few songs, I thought, "fuck it!" - and up I went. Just me. Only me. Who hasn't been out dancing in a year and a half. Hahahahahahahahahaha! I can now say that I was the solo dancer at a See Spot Run show, and am full of something akin to glee.

I was particularly fond of a song entitled My iPod Killed My Girlfriend, which was entirely delightful and called to mind the Ramones' The KKK Took My Baby Away. Perma-grin during that one.

And the encore. Silliest for last: from Stompin' Tom Connors' The Good Old Hockey Game into Back in Black by AC/DC. Now that was a stunner all by itself.

I'll definitely see them again - they played a tight set, were obviously having fun, and seemed nice to boot...even though I totally put my foot in my mouth and called their song Weightless 'Shameless' by mistake (obviously channelling my unconscious, there...). Right - breast cancer research benefit show on Apr 29th at Clinton's it is!

A fine end to the day. I'm now ricocheting off the walls and in no mood for bed. So I will (once again) curse my fine cousin Jason and play pogopogopogopogo.

screams...

...like a delighted bansidhe.

AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE