Not so sickly after all?

Despite the recent doom and gloom in the Canadian media (and the recent election of a Dr. Brian Day, who owns a private practice, to head the Canadian medical association), I have to report that my experience with Canada's health care system was fast, effective, and remarkably thorough.

Despite having not been to my family doctor in eight years, I didn't have to wait very long, and all the secretary needed was my health card. My doctor was efficient and thorough, giving me a whole checkup and signing me up for some blood tests and two ultrasounds because my thyroid was slightly enlarged (my mum has a thyroid condition called Hashimoto's Disease). Since I'm leaving for Japan in less than a week, the secretary kindly called ahead and got me an appointment to do all the blood work and one of the ultrasounds that afternoon, and the other ultrasound (the one which requires a bit more preparation) on Friday.

All the health care people I met today (who were all female, interestingly) were friendly and helpful despite being very busy. They did what needed to be done and all I ever needed was my slightly battered health card to gain access to all this medical attention.

Of course, I could still have a terrible disease lurking somewhere that these people missed, but all in all I'm quite happy with the state of health care in this country.

Domestic Bliss?

I'm going down into Toronto this weekend to help Biku clean out her apartment, and as much as that sounds terribly boring, I'm actually kind of excited about it. Since I'm so domestic and vaguely rural, the idea of going into the city for a day of mad rushing about and seeing/buying/doing things doesn't appeal to me. But, I love the notion of a day spent purposefully in a cozy apartment (it may be small, but I feel at home there) with any things I might want (movies, delicious Chinese buns, the Ex) just a short streetcar ride away.

In other news, I haven't regretted for a minute my purchase of Sarah Harmer's new album "I'm a Mountain". It's folksy/bluesy, which I find myself more and more attracted to, and the lyrics to "I am Aglow" and "The Ring" and "Escarpment Blues" are beautiful. Also, her voice is just about in my range, which only complements my theory that those who like to sing along to music are attracted to people who have a similar note range as they do.

Shhh...

I didn't start out to make this blog a secret. It's just that I never told my parents (and others) about it, and then I started writing cathartic things about them here, and so now if I were to tell them, it would be very awkward.

That, combined with the fact that I like the idea of a travel diary, has led me to create a seperate blog for my travels in Japan. You should have already gotten an email about it -- if you haven't, it's because a) I don't know your email, b) I don't know you, or c) I forgot you and I'm a bad, bad person. Since I'll mostly be posting on that blog for the next year (with the exception of things I don't want my parents to read), do send me an email/write me a comment if you want to get the address. I'd put it up on the blog, but the secretive part of me prefers to keep the two blogs seperate, for some strange reason. Perhaps I enjoy compartmentalization, or perhaps I'm just neurotic.

Mum's back home from her travels now, and for some reason I'm less annoyed at her for gushing about going to San Francisco than I was about her going to Italy. I guess I'm just getting used to her and Dad going places without me. Now, can they get used to me going places without them? Mum's starting to talk about visiting me in Japan, mostly because she doesn't want to not see me for a year. It's a loooong plane ride though, so we'll see what happens.

Biku's still not doing very well, but I'm sending her all my magical wish power (since I don't seem to need it -- see my Japan blog) so that she can go have an adventure with a happy ending a la "French Kiss" (the movie with Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline, not the tongue wrestling move). We'll see what happens.

Busy Busy Busy

This has my been my life this week. It feels like it shouldn't be busy, since I'm not working full time or anything, but bouncing from Biku's apartment downtown to Newmarket to take care of the kitties and run many errands to Japanese class (last one!) to Zen's cottage in the Muskoka's and back again does take a toll.

I'm actually kind of stressed out right now. Leaving for Japan is rapidly becoming a reality and last night I had my first moment of really understanding that I would be gone. I nearly cried. I mean, I still want to go and I'm still excited, but because I don't know yet where exactly I'm going (and I do know what exactly I'm leaving) it's a bit harder to start envisioning my life in Japan.

I'm also stressed out because Biku's having a bad summer. She's very unhappy, and I don't know how to make it better. Her grandfather's sick, she misses having her boyfriend around, and she doesn't want me to leave. Of course, she knows this is a great opportunity for me, but she can't be happy that I'm going when it means we won't see each for a year (eek!). I know she doesn't want to make me feel bad for leaving, any more than I would want her to be unhappy. But it's happening anyway, and so it's putting a strain on both of us. I'm too unaware to be good at helping people through incisive analysis of a situation, I'm too indecisive to be good at helping people through firm knowledge of how to make things better, and I'm to practical to be able to whisk the person off to forget about their troubles for a while. What I can do to help people is give them my time, my patience, and my love. But because I'm leaving and I'm getting stressed myself, those first two are running out. Which is very bad. I've still got love, of course, but love without ways to tangibly express it is not terribly helpful.

I'm actually kind of worried about my parents coming home this week, since they'll start to realize I'm leaving soon, which will mean that they'll start pressuring me to spend lots of time with them. Which I do want to do, but I want to spend time with my friends too, and (as we all know by now) I don't deal well with guilt, especially guilt around not giving someone I care about enough time.

Whew. Writing this post just gave me a headache and knot in my stomach. This'll probably get worse before it gets better...

[Edit (two hours later): Just so you don't think that my head is about to explode, I had a lovely day yesterday at my friend's cottage. I swam and knitted and discovered the hilarious potential of trying to eat a frozen yogurt waffle cone on a bumpy, fast-moving motor boat. (Let me just say that it's a good thing I have the stomach of a goat). Also, Biku and I continue to have really good long discussions and hilarious moments of linguistic oddity ("foofy") and generally do all that good stuff that's the reason why we're best friends. So not everything is bad.]

Kampai!

That's the Japanese way of toasting someone, although from what I've read, it only works if you yell it when you're a) a Japanese person, b) a businessman just finished your 60 hour work week and c) incredibly drunk. I'm none of those things, but it's a Kampai! day anyway because Toria's brother is getting married. She and I are going (obviously) and I'm kind of excited because it's a pagan wedding (which I've never seen) and because Biku's making her own top for the wedding and it's really really pretty. Also, James and Trish are a cute couple. Sadly though, I'm driving home, so I can't continue the proud tradition whereby Toria's family gets me drunk. But it should be a good time anyways.

The Bright Side

I've just discovered that the silver lining to living in your parents basement and working at a minimum wage job is that I suddenly have guilt-free disposible income again. Sure, it's not much disposible income, but it's better than thinking "I should be saving this for rent/groceries/utilities" every time I buy new socks or a bag of chips.

In other news, the kitties are larger, but still adorable. See Exhibit A: