Monday morning (January 4th)

I slept on and off from about 4AM until [Supergirl] woke up at about 8:30AM.  We were at her place, and with the blinds, it wasn’t all that bright yet.  My senses were all pretty much dead with fatigue.  The only thing I could hear until she woke up were the pipes of the neighbors’ showers, and the humidifier bubbling away as it always does, nonchalantly on the floor.  Though she was sleeping, I couldn’t seem to stay down.

She left later that morning on a taxi to the airport at about 11AM.  This isn’t permanent– she’s just going to BC and Asia to visit friends and family for about a two months, and then she’ll be back in Montreal.  But nonetheless, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sensation as I lay next to her, in the dark, my arm hypnotically just stroking hers.  I can’t explain it.

Is it that it’s been that long since I’ve been in love like this?  No, that’s not it.  It’s more like I’ve never been in love like this before, that I don’t understand the magnitude of what I feel at times. I generally pride myself at being a very level headed, calculating kind of person, someone whose gameplan relies on mental toughness and endurance, and especially to keep all that clockwork going even while being apparently carefree on the outside in company.   Around her though?  Logic left me at the curb.  All that martial machina and toughness just melts away.

It isn’t a bad feeling.  This is the good kind, I think, of dumfoundedness, of restlessness, of anxiousness. It’s the fashionably right amount of suffering to really put the importance of the physical presence of an important person where it belongs.

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Knowing that you feel happy to have those feelings because of someone is great– but I guess it doesn’t help you sleep, knowing that you’re going to be apart for almost two months.

I haven’t written much, but as is the case with anyone who works in healthcare, no news is probably good news! I spent most of my holiday vacation with her, and the days were quaint and nice. A lot of time in bed without our clothes on, just talking, joking around about stupid things.  We’d bought a case of clementines one evening that, as we lay side by side watching a terrible steaming movie with rolling eyes (“the Gamer”), we kept peeling and eating as the movie dragged on.  We tried not to choke on some of the more “WTF” moments of the movie.

We saw Sherlock Holmes finally, and were wondering if even Sir Arthur Conan Doyle knew how much asskickery Watson was capable of.  Went to Marven’s for steak and calamari, a restaurant that I don’t take many people to because it’s one of my favorites.  It isn’t untrue that the better you know people, the more likely they are to be embarrassing in public because of exactly how comfortable they are with you, which is why only a select few elite are invited to come with me to eat here.

We spent a few hours at least playing Patapon, a PSP game.  It’s a kinda cutsey rhythm game with a war element to it, which makes it a dangerously addictive thing really… if there’s one thing I appreciate about Supergirl it’s that she does play games.

We were lazy enough on other days to just order delivery Italian food.  Spagetti with extra meatballs and cannelloni.  The great kind of Italian food that doesn’t make the Heart-Association’s recommended list, you know, the sort with the orange oil filling up the cracks of the Styrofoam?  D for Delicious, but also D for Deadly!

At this point, it’s only a bit over half a day after she’s left, and at the time of this writing, I’m at work.

It hasn’t even been one day since she left yet, but I miss her.

 

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I find that odd because I don’t usually miss anything to the point where it just makes me feel down.  There are a few negative emotions that I’m good at, such as anger or frustration—longing isn’t normally on that list.

What changed?

When you really think about it, I’m still using gtalk and text messages to chat with her on my phone while I’m at work.  That’s not new.  I’ve gone days without seeing her before, so why is this any different if it hasn’t even been that long?

Duh: because I know that it’s going to be a while.  Usually, the emotional side is the weakest link in the chain, and logic side should be doing damage control, kinda like telling the needy emotional side to chill out in Mr. Spock’s voice.  But what happens when the logical side is the one telling you “hey Mr. Spock, this isn’t any ordinary day or two away, this is two months”?

Well, then I just gotta play the cards as I’m dealt them. What else is there to do?

 

Truth be told though, it could be worse: I could be alone.  Not in the temporary sense. I’ll count my blessings instead.

 

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I’m still in the habit of signing 2009 on all the documents at work, and that’s a bit of a problem since data accuracy is pretty important in my field.  Problematic especially since I need to sign my name next to the date so it’s really easy for them to track me down

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On the eczema battlefront: I think I’ve finally found a non-prescription lotion that actually works well for me.  After trying a crapload of cotizone creams and lotions, I accidentally stumbled upon an on-the-shelf lotion called Aveno: Eczema Care.  I actually ran into it because so far, out of all the lotions and creams, the one that worked best for me was Aveno: Oatmeal and Mint, and it was while I was looking for that on the shelf of a local pharmacy that I ran into the EC version.  I tried out the EC version and it’s effectiveness is probably quadruple that of the Oatmeal Mint version, in the sense that I have to apply it 4 times less often before the effect wears off.  And that’s not a small thing—the Oatmeal Mint version of Aveno was already at the top of a longish list.  Oatmeal Mint worked better all the “intensive care” lotions from St-Ives, Vaseline, Olay, Dove, etc, as well as prescribed coritzone creams than an expensive prescription lotion whose name I can’t remember at this point.

I’m pretty damn pleased about it.

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Now that Supergirl is out of town, I’ve begun some maintenance.  I went back to my apartment for the first time in days—I’ve only really been stopping by during the holidays, maybe only being at the apartment for two days out of two weeks.  My roomies have practically forgotten who I am.

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I’m going to get around, at some point, to building some sorta wall-unit so that I’ll finally have some shelves set up. It won’t be hard to actually build the thing—the hard part is getting the wood to my place, since I don’t have a car.

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I’ve largely been completely off the training during the holiday season. I think that any martial arts instincts I may have recovered during Numac are pretty much dulled to death, and my physique is in pretty poor state as well.  My weight hasn’t changed, but I feel that my physique has, which tells me that muscles have converted just the right amount by their ratio into fat.  That gives me this misleading of no weight loss or gain.

Since Supergirl is away, might as well spend all that extra energy getting back in shape! A month and a half isn’t enough to get any meaningful sparring training done, so I’m mostly looking at home training again.  The classics—pushups, situps, chinups and a bit of basic shadowboxing. There’s also running in that mix.

I figure, start off, as always, ambitious, with a program to do these things at least 6 times a week (except the running), because knowing me, I’ll eventually get lazy andstart trimming that down…

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The next little stretch is going to be tricky, because I’m going to be working for about 6 out of 7 days.  It probably doesn’t sound like much to you, but consider that normally, I work 4 days per week (which is mostly standard for people who work night shifts).

This is the third holiday season in a row where I get to New Year’s week debt free.  I’m pretty pleased about that!  I mean, I still take a fair amount of damage paying annual billls and christmas shopping, but I guess I must be doing something right when nobody’s trying to kick down my door for either of those reasons.

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At work, some woman just brought me a specimen cup and handed it to me.

I looked at it, and dared to ask.

“Uh… what’s in here?”

“Shit!” said the Chinese mom.  “Nurse said you wanted a shit sample.  This is shit sample.”

“Hoooookay…. which nurse now…?”

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I forgot to say it earlier, but Happy New Years everyone!

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