Home again, home again, jiggity jig

... Y'know, I don't even remember when or where I picked up that expression.

Somewhere delightfully infantile, I'm sure.

As per this year's Xmas theme, getting home from Nova Scotia was a total nightmare. Approximately 18 hours of travel and airport waiting. By 4 am, I had lost all patience and calm. Got to bed just after 5 (although felt like 6 am, due to time difference) and succeeded in not killing anyone in violent, unnecessary ways.

In happier news, I had my first meal today since the revisiting of Christmas dinner for 24 hours. I had almost two McD's cheeseburgers (don't ask me why, but I find them strangely comforting after I've been unwell) and a handful of fries. Nothing terribly horrendous happened, so I celebrated with some fried rice for dinner.

My apartment looks like a store vomited all over it.

On a completely unrelated note, have you ever found yourself strangely obsessed by the actual sound of a word? The meaning is irrelevant. Simply that the words rolls around in your mouth in a pleasant way is joy enough.

Like "kumquat." Hard clicks and soft "mmm"s. Or "vulva." All teeth against the lower lip and forced-out vowels.

Yet the word that popped into my head today which has been making me giggle is not that interesting, either in meaning or as some kind of alliterative joy.

"Goiter." [n. A noncancerous enlargement of the thyroid gland, visible as a swelling at the front of the neck, that is often associated with iodine deficiency. Also called struma.]

But it really sounds like it would be an excellent insult.
"Bloody goiter." "Hey, goiter -- get your ass in gear!" "Where did you meet that goiter?"

Sometimes I even impress (slash disgust) myself with my love for things inane.

Ugh

...Stomach flu.

Happy Christmas to me.

I am indeed an effing idiot

Time keeps slipping away from me when I don't notice it. Which, of course, gives me ample opportunity to let my blogging slide until I am indeed ready to pick up keyboard and mash words into it.

It's Christmas day, and I've just gotten off the phone with my uncle. I am consistently amazed and horrified at just how stupid and idiotic I am capable of sounding to relatives. Years ago, I was dismayed to learn that my aunt did not care for me at all. In the sense, of course, she didn't much like me -- I'm sure she has some concern for my welfare.

However, ever since then, being the gorgeously paranoid creature i am, I labour under the impression that I am universally disliked by ALL family members. Tolerated by a few, disliked by most. "That Hannah girl? Ugh. What an embarrassment." And of course, things slip out of my mouth carrying one intention, and gather another somewhere in the air between my lips and their ears. Minutes after the conversation ends, I cringe.

I am much better in person, most of the time.

Of course, I am dreadfully lazy.

Now to totally drift off course -- because it's more fun to just switch topics when you're simply too bored or irritated to continue the previous trail of thought. (Besides, I do hate looking like a twit.)

In the last few months:

I went and returned from Nova Scotia.

Temped my little arse out -- being an assistant to a Regulatory and QA director (dull job, lots of filing, but the woman I worked for was pretty awesome).

Chris was laid off.

I insisted on still trying to write...



...but picked up a full-time job a few weeks ago (a real "grown-up" job with normal pay and all) that will last at least six months.

I do want to keep on the writing, but I simply do not have the resources or support network to allow me to do it full-time at this point in my life. The debts are growing and I'm getting nowhere. So I'm opting to use this opportunity as sort of a sabbatical.

Besides, I kind of like being regarded as something other than a clever little office monkey or a failed writer.