Rest in Peace, Dear Sampson

Today, my dog died. He was laying in the back office, when I heard his nails skittering on the hardwood. I went to find out what he was up to, fully expecting to find him trying to catch a fly or something. He was spread out on the floor, rapidly breathing, eyes dilated and not seeing me. I called my husband immediately. I had no idea what to do. I quickly cleaned up a bit of dog poo, I thought he had had a seizure of some sort, and then I tried to rouse him from his stupor. He was not responding. I called my husband and told him to hurry. I placed him on a blanket and dragged him to the elevator. My husband arrived shortly, he ran all the way home. We took him to the veterinary hospital, they took him right away and eventually the vet told us that he most likely had a cancerous tumour that had burst on his spleen. Internal bleeding. The x-rays confirmed this and we were left to decide as to what measures to take next. Stabilize him by transfusion and then surgery at a specialist's office in Burnaby. My husband went to call his friend to have him bring his dog down as there was no blood available at the dog blood bank. Two minutes later, the vet rushed back in and said that Sampson was not going to make it. We ran in to his side. I put my hand on his neck and he placed his paw around my wrist, gasping for air. We made the decision to euthanize and that was that. We spoke to him, nuzzled him and told him that mummy and daddy loved him so much, he was a good dog. I chanted as much as I could. And then he was gone. I had to be dragged away from him. I collapsed outside, sobbing.

We are numb. We've been crying all afternoon. I can't believe he's gone. I can't believe he's gone. He was gone within an hour. My big bear. He had a lot of nicknames. Baby Bear, Baby Boy, Big Boy, Hammers (as in dumb as a sack of hammers), Papa, etc. I knew that this day would come. But not today. Not today. He had a good walk this morning and now he's gone. A part of my family has died today. My husband is walking around in a daze.

We loved him so much.

Clearing out the closet

I quickly gave my a closet a once over and decided I could get rid of a few things. I didn't do a complete overhaul as that would have required sifting through too much and then I'd have to refold and that seemed too big a task. These pants, neatly folded in a drawer, jumped into my mind. They are extra large drawstring cotton pants. I got them at the Roots warehouse. I'm no longer extra large, though I'm sure they would still fit if I pulled the drawstring tight, but I don't need them anymore. I bought them during my very first, shiny IVF cycle. I thought they would be perfect for pregnancy.

If you're anything like me, you associate clothes with different periods of your life or certain memories. The special occasion you bought something for or the day you were really sad and you needed some retail therapy. Now I've been known to shop for hours on my own or with a partner. During vacations, it's something I just gotta do. As I've gotten older and wiser, I'm much more selective. I tend to clutter, so I really have to think twice before I get something and one of my rules is that if it doesn't have a purpose (i.e. vase, bowl), then it's just a knickknack waiting to get dusty. I love shopping, generally speaking. I like shopping for other people as well. Even when I got FAT, and shopping for clothes become a fucking nightmare, I still liked to shop for shoes or purses or housewares. Sometimes, when I have extra money, I buy something and squirrel it away, waiting for the right occasion to bring it out.

These pants were something like that. They didn't scream maternity wear, though I did wander through that section of the store, quite surprised that a Roots warehouse would even have that section. It was more like a whisper. A secret. I waited in the long queue with my secret hope that I'd be wearing these pants in just a couple of months.

I might have eagerly worn one pair, I think, when I was quite swollen after an egg retrieval. I guess when we moved downtown 2 years ago, I thoughtlessly included them. Every now and again, when I had to go rooting for workout clothes, I would catch a glimpse of them, and I'd quickly push their purpose out of my mind. I have a few things left that remind me of that rollercoaster period of my life, I just love souvenirs, but when I'm feeling heavy, I just gotta wonder why I like to cling to reminders of the past. The "unproductive" past specifically.

So in an effort to let go of sadness and malaise, I'm going to start divesting myself of things, root out the crap, so I can see more clearly. I attended a young women's general meeting yesterday afternoon and they talked about the unlimited potential of your life. And then I went to an awesome study meeting later on, and I felt so much better. Everyone struggles. Everyone questions, but as long as one continues to seek with an open heart, there is hope. And wine. :)

What is going on with me?

I am so tired it's not funny. I seriously have to get to the blood clinic today for a test. I feel my energy is low, I'm craving sugar like an addict, I'm exercising my ass off and no weight is coming off, which is probably due to the serious cheating I'm doing - it's almost like an unconscious thing - I bought a icing laden cinnamon roll at Safeway the other day cause it was 99 cents! - what the hell was I thinking??!!! Oh, it couldn't hurt, I'm doing all this working out - well apparently it does. If I could just count my bloody points and stay off the crack (i.e. sugar) I will be fine.

My mood is also quite low - as in nothing is as fun as it used to be. I've got a great bike that all of sudden I don't want to ride anymore. I basically force myself to take it to the gym. I'm short on patience these days. It's hard to spend time with my mum, my husband's compulsive chewing on his friggin fingers all night long is driving me insane and it takes everything in me not to cave his skull in. I'd rather stay home and play Scrabulous all day. I'm so dramatic.

I went to Seattle for a day of shopping with my betrothed friend. No, I had fun, don't get me wrong, but I wish we were looking for shoes instead. Well maybe not, my right ankle is still fat. But I still love shoes. She's hilarious and silly and she's as bright and energetic as a beam of light. But my mood was flattened somewhat by the fact that I knew I would try on a lot of dresses that would not suit me or fit me and my self esteem would take a battering. Which it did. Bless my dear size 2 friend who kept bugging me to get the smaller size and she was so kind and so complimentary and so patient.

We were looking for an orange formal dress - it's her wedding scheme colour - of which we found 3 and of course, they were either not in my size or they looked like shit - designer shit, but despite my stunning beauty, I don't look good in everything, but I do look good in orange. And there are lots of orange casual dresses around, just not what I'm looking for. We also looked at black and white dresses. I have a tiny, short waist and a bit of a tummy, long, thick legs, long thick arms, great shoulders, and a pear shape. Ohmigod, I just made myself sound like a freak, didn't I? Which means A line silhouettes are good as long as they have empire waists, but no pleats or ruching on the stomach ..... well the point is most dresses don't suit me. That's why I only have a few and they're generally long. Like most women, I am smaller on the top than the bottom. Between Macy's and Nordstrom's and every boutique we could find, I found two formal dresses that looked good. Two. Well, in the colours we looked at. We were like mercenaries seeking out the enemy. The perfect dress.

I finally bought one of them. A long black gown with a plunging neckline highlighted by rhinestones in the cleavage. It was the first dress I put on that I actually thought I looked good in right away. The other one was a Jones New York dress, sheath like, white top, black bottom, should have been strapless but it had straps. Of course, I didn't get it, didn't think I could afford two dresses, but now I think I should have bought it. It kind of accentuated my child bearing (hah!) hips with the pleats which made me feel a tad self conscious. The long, black gown, I could wear at the night time reception, I guess and I'm sure I can get more use out of it. I still need a daytime formal dress though. Arrgh! I will get one made I think. This guerilla shopping for the perfect dress is nuts. Even for my own wedding, I had a gown made. Saved me a ton of grief and time. Do you think I should have one made,with maybe cream on top and dark orange on the bottom?

By the time we finished shopping, we were in serious need of a drink. We stopped at the Cheesecake Factory and I had a glass of wine, a salad (I only ate a 1/4 of it) and wait for it - a big honking piece of apple caramel cheesecake! I have no idea how many calories were in it and I don't want to know. Well, it had fruit, so that's good right? Honestly, who was I kidding with salad, I should have gone straight through to the dessert. It was soooo good and freaking worth it after pounding the pavement for 8 hours. I would have walked across glass for it.

Anyway, I'm off to take a blood test to find out what's what. Honestly, if anyone has any suggestions of vitamins or something that will give my mind and body a boost let me know.

Kiddie time! Drink time!

I now interrupt my perfectly blissful Buddhahood state to slide back into the world of Hell.

Things I dislike doing:

• getting my bikini area waxed


• doing my taxes


• going to one year old's birthday parties

And yet, what did I do yesterday? The last one. It was combined with a housewarming. Why did I go? Well, it's my husband's godchild. Remember, the one he took to for his circumcision because the dad was out of the country on business? They had done an extensive renovation on their new home as well. Well, the place was gorgeous, as was the little one. Did I mention they were oops pregnant again? And from what I hear she wasn't happy about it? I guess I could understand that - if I had given birth several months ago. But I haven't. So I don't.

We walked into a gathering, that is quite familiar in this city - what my husband and I have dubbed the Zebra Club. Most of the couples there were interracial, black men with white women in this particular venue (other times, it's Asian and Caucasian); we came in and reversed it. Seriously, we should have ID cards. Hence, there were a lot of beautiful mixed children running around. Add two baby bumps into the mix. I know for a fact that we could not have been there a year ago. My husband even asked me before we left how long we were going to stay. Lucky for me, I had ended up talking mainly with two women who were not mothers and the guys who never, ever talk about personal stuff.

We also reacquainted ourselves with one of the mothers-to-be again. Years ago, she was the girlfriend of one of my hubby's sports buddies. Now she was a wife and on her way to a 2nd child. And you guessed it, she said, "Do you have any kids?" "No." (Just a simple no. No need to tell her we're adopting and open up that can of worms for public consumption.) "Well, you two have been together for a long time". "Yes, we've been together since 1854." And then other people interject with other lines of conversation and she either picks up my subtle mind control or she remains puzzled as to how that could possibly happen. Either way, it's another trip to the curried meatballs and wine for me. And hubby wonders why I gained so much weight.

I did interact quite a lot with the children. I couldn't help but think that they all looked like what our (dearly departed) imagined child would. I also enjoyed the company of a young boy who was visiting his father for the summer. He had actually seen me on TV, and was young enough to be impressed by this. He had that innocence that pre-teens have before they get all snarly and know-it-all. I gave him a big hug before I left. I still have that maternal feeling.

This explains my sullen mood this morning. A little guilty about the meatballs, chocolate brownies and wine. We're also seeing some other friends (just had their 2nd) today. I keep thinking this is all good, this is all good. Because when we get our child, we'll appreciate their friendship. Let's get it all done this weekend. Bring it on!

Happy 4th to my American friends!

10th anniversary as a Buddhist

Today is my 10th anniversary of my Buddhist practise. Happy Buddhist Birthday to me. I have a picture of me (holding a piece of cake naturally) and I have a big smile on my face. It was a great day for me. I didn't know too many people at the culture centre, one Japanese family who always ran to hug me when they saw me, my district leaders (a couple who have been through so many challenges it's crazy and they're still together) and my bemused husband(boyfriend at the time) who came along to see what the hell I was doing with my life. He didn't really want to be there, I think, but he wanted to support me. I remember being so happy, my face hurt from smiling. I was so excited when my boxed Gohonzon and scarf was placed in my hands. There was a special ceremony where the Vancouver director read out what was on the membership certificate and then placed the Gohonzon in my hands as if it were precious gold. I was told that it represented my life and that I should always treasure it. Pictures were taken, excitement was in the air, everyone applauded. I had no idea that it was such an occasion! Later, my district leaders came to our place to enshrine the Gohonzon. They made jokes to put hubby at ease as they put papers in their mouths (so as to not accidently spit on it), proceeded to unroll it and hang it in the butsudan while we chanted. The butsudan is what holds the scroll and it can be very simple or very ornate.

So what can I say about being a Buddhist for a decade? What enlightenment have I received? Well, this Buddhism sounds so simple and it's quite easy to start. But like an onion, it has many layers and when you think you finally get something, you can just as easily realize you don't understand anything. It's been a lot of fun, I have a lot of happy memories with my fellow Buddhists as we've produced exhibits and events in the city. United, we chant to achieve what a lot of people think is a waste of time - world peace.

I've learned that I'm a lot stronger than I thought. I don't cut and run from difficult situations anymore. I stand and fight. My practise has helped me to cycle through therapy in half the time. I've learned that I get a lot more from people when I give more. You can gain compassion through suffering, but you have seek true, unshakeable happiness.

I've lost faith. I've found it again. Slowly, gradually. Infertility can make you question your worth as a woman, your self identity. How many times have we asked, why me? Why can't I be like everyone else?

You don't have to practise a particular religion or philosophy to have faith, but you do need to nurture it. I like ritual but I hate dogma. Ten years ago, I had no idea of just how connected people on this planet are to one another. I've gained a certain level of equanimity. Just a tiny, tiny fraction. I've found happiness not in flat screen TVs, but in nature, in moments in time, in great parking spots. To believe in myself is one of the hardest tasks that I have in this lifetime. I don't think it's an accident that I picked the worst career in the world to try and accomplish this. I've learned the difference between what you do and what your mission is.

I am grateful. And occasionally, fleetingly, when I am in rhythm with the universe, I get the flash that I am not who my mind says I am, I am something so much more. It's those moments when I don't feel fear.

Pain/no pain

Leave it up to my subconscious to get me out of bootcamp class. I biked up there, fancy pants me, did the warmup and then as I was jogging back to my mat, I slipped, my ankle folded over and crunch! OW!OW!OW!on the ground rolling in pain. Now I didn't see stars and I didn't hear a snap, so I figured it wasn't broken just strained. The instructor did the first aid thing perfectly, compress the foot, elevate and ice. So I lay there on the bench while the class proceeded. Feeling like a moron. Why do people always feel so embarrassed when they fall down? It's not like I was attempting some crazy stunt, I was just jogging back to my mat and I probably stepped on one of the metal plates they HIDE in the grass. So looking up at the blue sky, I chanted for a speedy recovery, got up eventually and rode back home. You don't really need a good ankle to ride a bike surprisingly. It felt pretty good after the icing, so I swallowed some Advil took the dog out for a walk and then my cell phone rang. I was late for acting class. Ooops, I had forgotten all about it. So we went back home, and I rode to my class, puffy ankle and all. Then I went to see my mum as I had not seen her yesterday. We shopped at Gap Kids for my nephew and then hung out at Starbucks and people watched. Have I complained about being dog tired yet? Yes, gotta check my iron levels. I thought exercise was supposed to give you energy. But I still made it to spin class last night.

I spent a lovely Canada Day at Spanish Banks (at the end there's a grassy part where dogs are allowed) with a gaggle of friends. Sitting in my double chair, with umbrella, with my non drinking husband (apparently, he has developed an allergy to alcohol - has anyone heard of that?) and my happy dog, with a pomegranate Mike's Hard discretely poured into my plastic cup. I say discretely because drinking openly on a beach is illegal here, though EVERYONE does it, you have to be cool about it and hide it from the cops who occasionally drive around on ATVs.

At this end of the park, there was a lot of young, good looking people, hanging and playing frisbee, bacci ball, and assorted games, and there aren't that many families. A few but not many. There was even a live band playing. One of the people in our group brought his little daughter and I actually called someone a jackass (lovingly) in front of her. Yes, I did tell her that it wasn't a word that I should have said and I was wrong to use it. I'm pretty sure she's going to use that word at daycare this week. I didn't have that kicked in the stomach feeling anymore. I was totally in the nostalgic vibe when we used to come down here on sunny weekends with our friends and dogs and we would BBQ and drink (responsibly of course) and just chill out. Before the kids, before ttc and treatments and BFNs and demented mothers.

And though there were lots of young girls in bikinis, I didn't feel pangs of jealousy or even feeling out of place. That's what young people do, they hang out at beaches, and play soccer on the grass and pose and flirt with one another. I was just feeling good, digging the music and enjoying the warmth. Feeling no pain.

Happy Canada Day!

Happy Canada Day!

It falls on a Tuesday this year, which is a bit awkward for those folks who had to work on Monday and then get Tuesday off and then back to work on Wednesday. But I'm an unemployed actress, so it's all the same to me.

I did have a great audition for a feature film on the weekend with an out of town casting director. It was for a lead so it was great fun preparing for it. Real character work for a change. Not just - "he went that way, sir." The casting director complimented me, telling me how talented I was. That's so nice, but being a veteran of this business, I take it with a grain of salt. I've heard that before but the validating part comes when you win the role. So give me the part, dammit!

Speaking of getting parts, my husband just got an actor role on Supernatural. Did I tell you he wanted to get into the business at one point? Well, he's with my agent, but he hardly ever goes out because he has a real job and is often quite busy or out of town. But when he does go out, he has a good booking rate. He had an audition, rather a meet and greet with the casting director and director, and now he gets a part playing a short order cook. He has no lines but he has to wear prosthetics (like demon eyes) or something. And it pays really well. Isn't that great? Grrr. He actually came home and bragged he was a shoo-in. I was on the show as a bus clerk a couple of years ago and I had a few lines, but I had to audition against half a dozen women! He gets a meet and greet with 2 other guys. I have to chant for hours, sacrifice a baby goat and send flat screen TVs to the casting director to get a part and he just shows up. Ah, that's show business for ya. Well, I'll just have to pick out a very expensive dress to get for the wedding in Europe. Oh, come here, WALLET, I mean sweetie.

I joined a bootcamp program for the next 4 weeks. I stopped going to Weight Watchers and took the money I would have used for that and put it towards physical activities. Now I know WW does really work, you count your points and do the program, but I think I just got tired of counting points and I just wanted to eat whatever I wanted. Which meant of course, that I stopped losing weight and even gained a few pounds. This means that I was not getting it - it's not a diet, it's a lifestyle. As much as I would like to eat cinnamon roles and candy every day and wash it down with a pint of booze, I can't. I am not like my hollow legged size 2 friends. Time to bump it up. I also bought a scale. Fuck. I've never owned a scale. Now I know why. You get one at one point and it's yay time and then you get on later and it's uh-oh. What the fuck?

I've been to 2 classes so far. Every part of my body hurts, I ache all over. Do you know what a bear crawl is? A seriously fucked up way to move the human body along ledges. I was late the first day and the class had to do 10 pushups. They love me. I can only do the knee ones, but I volunteered to do an extra 10 for the older lady. She really didn't need any further pity, as she left me in the dust. I ended being the straggler of the group. It was like, what are we doing now? Wait, wait, go backwards???

My lovely hubby also bought us bikes this weekend. The bike is my birthday present.

Gorgeous, eh? (that's Samps near the bottom of the frame, moving out of camera range.) No, it's not one of those very popular cruiser types. No nancy bike for me, folks! They're nice, but it's like riding in a chair with wheels. I prefer hybrid bikes. I like the real dangerous, fast ones, there's a possibility that your brakes could throw you over the handlebars, the pedals can rip up the back of your legs if your foot slips off, grrrrr. Of course the downside is your ass is not too comfortable on those seats. All the spinning prepared me, though, I still swapped out for a cushier gel seat. My ass would have liked the big comfort seats but it didn't match the edgy bike. We already gone around the Stanley Park seawall twice. It's 10km, people. I haven't done that since 19mumblesomething.

It was lovely actually, the sunset was great, the crowds are out, the gelato store is open late .... oops, this isn't going to be easy.