Monthly Archive for April, 2010

Hospital Friday

Published on April 19, 2010 by Corinna Carlson | 13 Comments

“You didn’t shit your pants did you?”

“NO, but close.”

Right, so last Thursday night I had just finished watching the first episode of Fringe I worked on, and was ready to spend a resplendent evening playing Virtua Fighter 5 on the XBox with my most loving husband when all of a sudden my dinner which wasn’t particularly healthy gave my stomach that not so nice grumbly get your ass to the toilet now cause it may explode feeling and I quickly obliged. What started as mild cramping in my abdomen was soon complimented with a back door tempest which erupted into pain so bad I starting moaning and groaning in donkey tongues.

Although I am known as a whiner, I blame that on the only child thing, I’m also known to have a pain tolerance that defies explanation. One example, the classic statistic I fell into when I broke my collarbone in THE COOK ISLANDS, apparently 2% of collarbone breakages end up in surgery, I ended up in surgery with mine, three months shy of it having been broken for an entire year.

Adam yelled over and asked if it could be menstrual cramps. No fuck no, menstrual cramps had nothing on this, this felt like my innards were being twisted into bows and balloon animals. But just to be sure I lifted up a drenched and dripping sweaty leg to see a bowl of blood. Fan-fucking-tastic. Having had a hemorrhoidectomy this was immediately bothersome but I had been on the can a while by this point and my ass wasn’t 100% sure what was going on because my contracting intestines were on some sort of long standing contract that only your worst enemy would take out on you to make me feel like hell.

The tempest cleared long enough for me to take 200 mg of Gravol and just hope that the contracting would stop and I’d get some sleep. When I woke up in the morning I still felt horrible, except now add drained and tired to that list. Even though I drank loads of water and had a decent sleep nothing was better, as soon as I sat down for my morning pee everything started up again but worse, because I didn’t have any food in my system and I was only drinking water. I did try to eat some tomato soup but that didn’t go too well and I threw it up in my mouth. We tried to get ahold of our doctor but they weren’t answering, so Adam walked over and explained my symptoms and he was told to take me up to the hospital. There was no way I could walk so I laid on the floor in the fetal position wondering how women have fucking babies, while Adam got ahold of a cab which I wasn’t sure about either because I thought for sure I was gonna barf any second.

The downtown hospital is a joyous place, it is one of those you only go to if you REALLY have to, this was my second trip into emerge there, granted this one wasn’t a self inflicted driven right to the door by the ambulance bill ya later kind.

Check in complete. Enter emergency waiting room, or a loose version of what at first sight appears to be a psych ward. Before I am through with my visit I will be privy to a ranting yet 90 days sober drug addict being taunted by a man claiming to be bipolar in cuffs whilst insulting the cops and making everyone in the waiting room uncomfortable to say the very least.

But, back to me, I was supposed to give them a urine sample basically right upon arrival. Always one to appreciate the little things, I was extremely excited about the innovation in giving urine samples, the funnel on top of the regular looking container with the lid and a nice little hand-wipe all in a sterile bag just for me. I went on to explain to Adam that this funnel was such a fantastic advancement that I couldn’t even believe it, why had no one done it sooner?

I proceed to sample my urine, all the while thinking how great this funnel is when suddenly it catches on the edge of my track pants and falls straight down into my underpants, drenching my pant leg in pee and part of my shoe as I watch a puddle of pee form on the floor next to my foot. I burst into tears. Are you kidding me? Is this for real? The waiting room is basically full, I thought the funnel was fantastic and now I want to murder it. I clean up the best I can covered in soaking wet pee and find the positive of the whole ordeal to be the track pants I’m wearing are navy blue fake velour rendering the wet spots less obvious — although this did nothing to help with the icky feeling I had with the cold material drying against my leg. “Do I smell like urine?”, I whispered to Adam as I started swigging from the water bottle so that I can get my pee on again.

I got in with the doctor relatively quickly, and felt like a super star explaining why I had no urine sample. This lovely visit confirmed something I have known all along, that my hemorrhoidectomy had not taken. I had The Rhoids again, internal and external for extra measure, if I only had a dollar for every doctor in the city who has had their finger up my ass I’d be comfortable. Not rich, not yet anyway, but comfortable. After another urine sample I didn’t botch and some blood work they let me go home saying I simply had a nasty viral attack on my intestines causing the back end tempest and at the moment still contracting intestines. I was told to make an appointment with my GP, take it easy and rest, back to solids slowly and lots of fluids.

What a way to kill a day and a half. I’d love to say I’m 100% better, but my energy is still really low with an even bigger interruption to my already lacking food intake and this was about the last thing I needed because I’ve already been bitching about losing too much weight since the stress hit in January. My intestines were contracting for a long bloody time because I am still in discomfort today, so I am resting and trying not to laugh a lot which isn’t too hard, unless of course I let myself think about how awesome it was to walk around with my bottom half covered in my own piss for half a day. That pretty much made the visit, the guy in cuffs had nothing on that.

Her Fearful Symmetry – #bookreview

Published on April 14, 2010 by Corinna Carlson | 8 Comments

HerFearfulSymmetry Before I even started this book I had more than one inquiry into why I was going to read it. I have never had a problem saying how much I DID NOT like The Time Traveler’s Wife. The review was also cross-posted at Estella’s Revenge – A Zine About Books.

I remember a woman I no longer speak with asking me once why I didn’t like the The Time Traveler’s Wife and I said well the time traveling babies for one and she was all, well that made sense to me, and right then, I knew the friendship was over. Ok, I’m not that big of a bitch but are you kidding me? Sure, it may have made sense but it still remains one of the most ridiculous things I had EVER read in my entire life of reading. And before I move on here I feel I should mention that I watched the movie, of course I did, Eric Bana and Rachel McAdams, I love them both. I guess I’m just used to Hollywood destroying great novels and this led to genuine intrigue because with my over the top dislike for this book I had an odd feeling that it wouldn’t make a bad movie and what do you know, I enjoyed it. The parts I had liked from the book where mainly the parts put on screen and although I still chuckled at the time traveling babies I found it easier to accept in movie form.

The thing with Audrey Niffenegger and why I was so ready to read her new book, Her Fearful Symmetry was because she isn’t a bad writer, in fact until I read the new book, I had The Time Traveler’s Wife rated 3 of 5 stars on Goodreads because for a first novel I did find her writing style to have a certain impressive flow to it. But this has now been lowered to 2 stars after rating Her Fearful Symmetry 1 of 5 stars. Her writing skills are over shadowed by statements which read like sentence fragments from a plot that in too many places seems underdeveloped and others needlessly overdeveloped, which I find interesting because it is apparent that she did a lot of research for this book. So much so that the write-up in the back totes her as an employee which I found even more intriguing until realizing it was an extremely unfortunate oversight in the editing as she only volunteered there during research for the book. The write-up is so misleading I allowed myself to become excited thinking she was going to spend a lot of time focusing on the famous Highgate Cemetery in London, which is now on my list of places I plan to spend AT LEAST a full day exploring when I finally make it to London, but not due to any glorious descriptions from her. There are many famous people buried there, Karl Marx for one, she over-mentions him about five times. I get it, Karl Marx is buried at Highgate Cemetery in London. I heard you the first time.

Aside from the cemetery this novel centers on two generations of twins and their family secrets. Ghosts and death are a prominent theme but just like with the time traveling babies I found myself bursting out laughing when after the passing of one of the characters their lover lays on the bed of the deceased and masturbates, then later returns to masturbate again only to have the ghost brush herself against him and apparently he can feel it and she passes her dead cold hands over his body and his penis and IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING AM I REALLY READING THIS?

I don’t understand why Niffenegger felt it necessary to volunteer at the cemetery and to take the guided tours when really we are only taken on ONE tour through the cemetery and even that is rushed in description due to conflicts with the characters. Because of the fascination I hold with cemeteries I did appreciate her writing on some of the history of Highgate but the link that is supposed to be drawn to the character studying it, is so weak it falls way short and is rarely addressed other than in simple yes or no questions asked of the character. This was a novel where the characters I liked faded off into the background and weren’t paid enough attention, and characters I didn’t like and felt offered little or no value at all to the story resulted in highly descriptive wastes of time.

When I compare this book with The Time Traveler’s Wife I have to say what I never thought I would, that I liked it 1 star more. I felt short changed on a book that had a lot of potential. This novel had many things I love to read about, twins, death, cemeteries, ghosts, and yet it failed to develop any of the characters enough for me to care at all what happened to them or they were involved in down right absurd story lines that had nothing to do with Highgate. Overall, a very disappointing read.

voices and instruments make songs and sometimes videos

Published on April 3, 2010 by Corinna Carlson | 8 Comments

I have been in this bizarre place lately where I’m taking comfort and solace in John Denver, my undying devotion and love of Johnny D is well documented on this blog, he hasn’t pulled ahead of Neko Case on my last.fm stats but Tool can’t either. The disparity between Neko Case and Tool all but prove that I listen to songs on repeat which I mention in my Twitter profile. I can’t believe I am going to admit this but it isn’t like you can’t see it on my profile. Since joining last.fm on August 5, 2008, loading all my music in and then being told about Scrobbling by The C.J Hixon. [which he is addicted to like when he comes back this summer I may stage and intervention] Plays for Neko Case my all time favourite artist = 5,482 listens, Tool my all time favourite band = 1,132. Maybe there is more than I originally thought keeping me in therapy for seven years.

I’ve always all but needed music in my life to function. I have memories of being grounded as a kid and grounded for me meant the only thing I was allowed to do was read. This may or may not be why I love reading. Could have gone either way on that one, I think. The first records I remember loving were my Sesame Street ones, when left unattended I can see myself jumping around on my bed and rocking out hard, getting to listen to John Denver and the Muppets could turn into some boisterous bed jumping extravaganzas as well. If I got in trouble for jumping on my bed to different variations of Jim Henson creations I’ve blocked it out and all that is left is seeing myself in slow motion feeling it, loving it. So when I’d get grounded I have these memories of lying on the floor with the volume as low as it would go, just to hear that damn rubber ducky song ONE MORE TIME. I had that record player a long time, it of course saw the purchase of my first REAL record, Thriller. My first tape was Madonna, True Blue. Some of my first real jobs where in very low level roles selling music and ordering music for retail stores.

Recently Adam and I wear talking about music videos, I told him something I had never told him before, it wasn’t major just something I used to do so I could hear my songs that I didn’t want to buy tapes for. I was in love with Much Music and used to watch the station for hours with a tape in the VCR and my hand on the record button so that when a song came on I could instantly record it, even though I couldn’t get the same kind of volume out of the TV as I could from my [by this time] tape player. It was awesome to me because all my favourite songs and videos where at my finger tips which also made it so much easier for impromptu dance routines. And back then artists and bands cared more about what they were putting out there in regards to videos, now a lot of people get all caught up in the production and forget about the song.

I was originally going to post five videos, but when I started to think about the videos I have picked for this post It didn’t go in the direction I had intended it to, which was basically new videos that reminded me of old videos or what I want to see in music videos something that at least feels like it was made for me, the listener, and not a sales pitch.

Right, let’s get to it, shall we?

Bat for Lashes – What’s a Girl to Do? (2007)

I started listening to Bat for Lashes last year, I’m late to the table on a lot of good music these days, there is simply so much shit out there and I get lost in my folk music and every now and then pull my head out of my ass long enough to discover new to me talent. Given that I spent a good portion of my youth taping videos onto meticulously labeled VHS tapes, I feel I know a good music video when I see one.

This video struck me for many reasons, first of all I adore the song, I don’t remember how I came upon it but I know the first time I watched it, I watched it in awe, didn’t take my eyes off the screen. I don’t go so far as to wiki this shit, I was obsessed as a teen because getting ahold of music was so different back then, especially in the North. I don’t know anything about this video except what I think of it. Having worked in T.V. though, I can not even imagine how hard that two minutes and fifty eight seconds was to film, I am going to go with NOT EASY. The timing is impeccable, originality used with such deceiving simplicity, even the sweater she is wearing, I love it. There was a time when I also hung out with various boys in the Vancouver courier scene who were all about tricks and impressing girls, receptionists from the city centre, myself being one of them, they’d take me for rides on their handlebars, that is of course until till the next cute receptionist came along..

Peter Bjorn And John – Young Folks (2006)

The only thing separating us from hipsters is about fifty grand. I heard Adam playing this song one day before I ever saw the video and the whistling caught my ear because Adam can’t whistle so I wasn’t sure why he was torturing himself with this until I peaked over and found a suitably ironic video unfolding before me, not really an original idea but there was still something that made me want to watch it, over and over again. This video is detailed, the drummer’s Hulk t-shirt, polyester, timeless behavior by good ol’ young folks, we were even discussing the other day how when you are young it feels like everyone is in a band. Catchy tune, fantastic video, allows me many an opportunity to whistle in Adam’s ears, it sticks out to me, seems really thought through; drawing it was probably full of shits and giggles, maybe some safety meetings.

R.E.M. – Everybody Hurts (1993)

This video was on a lot of my VHS tapes. This has always been a go to song and video for me when I need to cry and can’t. Sometimes I’ll watch the video when I want to kill myself, I’ll have a good cry and call it a day. Message received. This video and I have been through a lot together. This song was there when it wasn’t enough and there I was in the hospital for over a week, stomach pumped, leaving my body somewhere separate from my wondering mind that wanted nothing to do with what I had done, what I was, the pain, and the fallout. Everybody Hurts. This song took on even more meaning for me after losing my buddy to the big S. I used to think you could know someone, even if you couldn’t read their minds, another reason I have always loved the message that I perceive from this video, from a symbolic place of relating to the thoughts offered up by the personalities brought to the video. Suffering from depression and feeling forced into silence for so long I wanted a car door to open for me. And now, this video epitomizes my feelings, learned the hard way, my personal feelings, that you can never ever truly know anyone, we can only truly ever know ourselves. And how many people can even honestly say that they really know themselves?