Pain Pain Go Away

Not to be too reminiscent of my Dawson City days, but I am living inside of an Injury Nightmare.

My hamstring tear has become a problem that is getting worse and worse instead of better and better. Last week I was sure that It was starting to heal, only to feel it begin to rewind by the latter end of our seven-shows-in-four-days week. At least last week I was allowed to alter my Anything Goes track and not do the dance numbers. This week, feeling more pain than ever before, I have exhausted my Get Out Of The Dance Numbers Free card and am being asked to reinstate myself. I am in enough pain that they are trying to re-choreograph things to aid my injury, but any kind of dancing right now is only a detriment to my healing. I am now hardly sleeping at night because my leg and hip ache so much that I can not get comfortable. It is making me panic. I start to have the fantasies emerge of not being able to finish this contract. Having gone through the rehearsal period in psychological pain and to now do the run in physical pain (funny how those two often follow each other?) I am starting to once again question if these aren't all signs that I should jump ship. Lord knows I don't want to do permanent damage to my leg or hip. Not for this show. Not on your life.

All this drama, unsurprisingly, has a very negative effect on my relationship. A wee example: He asks to sleep in the same bed and then promptly falls into a deep, thick sleep while I lay awake throbbing. Logically I know that this does not make him a bad person, but there is nothing lonlier than lying awake in the dark, hurting, while the person beside you is off in la-la-land. Then in the morning, when he awakes, refreshed and rejuvenated after I have tossed and turned and been tempted to cut my body off at the waist and throw it into the ocean...when he awakes and asks me - ME who has gotten about three hours of piece meal sleep - with his perky little voice "how ya feeling this morning baby?"....well, let's just say that if RESENTMENT was my pimp, I'd be its top ho.

Ahhhhh, I ain't any good at relationships. And I think I am officially too old to be hired as a dancer. I think I should just consider becoming a Tibetan monk or a celibate nun.

Either that or down a handful of Robax, crack a bag of Doritos and think seriously about taking up drinking.

I mean, if ya can't beat 'em, ya might as well join 'em.

No Going Back

Once you've used expensive soap, there is no going back.

Standing in the shower and scrubbing myself with one of my birthday gifts...an organic, all natural, luxury soap...I became a convert. First off, I have never been a big bar soap girl. Secondly, perhaps because of the first, I would never spend a lot of money on a bar soap. So, opening up this soap was venturing into a new world - something that is becoming an everyday occurance for me. With the expanding-my-boundaries mindset that I have adopted, I dipped it into the water and placed it on my skin. It felt like a combination of silk and butter. Shocked and surprised I also noted that after the shower was done my skin did not feel taut and dry. It was eye opening. Ah, smashing all my stories to bits, one by one.

Standing in the baking aisle at the grocery store buying bread-making ingredients while my partner is out golfing with the guys. The story I hold about that? Well, that I would never become the kind of woman who stays at home baking bread while my male partner is out golfing/fishing/shooting hoops/hunting/drinking beer/insert-whatever-male-oriented-activity-you-would-like-here. I talk myself off the ledge by reminding myself that I would be buying these ingredients even if I was single. And that the last time my partner golfed was three years ago. Not that my fears are even about golf or bread. Still, I note the story that I tell about such things. Story smashing is needed.

Other Konkin stories I question? That it is normal for me to sustain injuries while in a show, that I hate exercise, that marriages simply don't work, that I am too old to go back to school and that creative professionals don't make good parents.

Another story that I have watched disolve before my eyes: kick ass, voluminous and passionate sex isn't totally necessary in a partnership. Obviously, I haven't ever really known what it was like to have that kind of sex life or I would have never fully believed that. Like expensive soap, that kind of sex ruins you for the mediocre. I never again want to be with anyone that doesn't desire me so much that he can't be bothered to undo my jeans but rips them off instead. And the once a week factor...what was I thinking? Something that good for the soul should be part of every day. Couple that with the stardust of love, mutual future dreams and laughing like you're at Yuk Yuks and DUDE...

There's no going back.

That Oh-So Opposite Sex

Sometimes I really hate men.

Ok, maybe that isn't true, but sometimes I really don't GET men and that frustrates me enough that I say untrue things like I hate them. Sometimes they choose to do a thing that is just so CLUELESS that I am left to simply stare at them in awe. Then, when I react with an emotion that doesn't resemble a high school cheerleader at a pep rally, they stare at ME in awe. Like I am the crazy one. So, there we are, staring at each other, in awe and I am thinking WHY DO MEN AND WOMEN JUST KEEPING TRYING AND TRYING? You would think after years of banging our heads against brick walls we would one day stop.

I will never forget the day that my ex-boyfriend and I met for a make-nice supper date. He had gotten married to someone after me and so the supper really was about attempting to find some friendly common ground. I was still in love with him, but without any hope or agenda and did truly want to find out if I had it in me to just be his friend. Well, the supper part went fine. We caught up and ate and laughed (we had always done that really well together) and then, just as we were heading for our seperate cars and the night was about to end, he turned to me in a sudden rush. "Oh my god," he yelped, "I almost forgot, I wanted you to hear something!" He then excitedly pulled me to his car and sat me down in the passengers seat. "I recorded that song that I wrote for you...remember?" he asked me. Did I remember???! Of course I remembered. I watched as he pushed the tape into the tape deck of his car. After an uncomfortable silence the music started. It was my song. It the was the song he wrote for me back when he loved me and the lyrics were devoted words promising me that no matter how long he had to wait, no matter what he had to do, he would always choose me. I sat there listening to these words in my ex-boyfriend's car, but that wasn't even the worst of it. To add insult to injury...his WIFE was the one singing the song on the recording!!!!

"It sounded so good on her voice, we just had to record it. Anyway, since it was your song I thought you might want to hear how great it turned out." He gushed. I sat. I blinked back tears. It was like being knocked directly into some bad Ally McBeal moment. He grinned from ear to ear. I made some excuse to get out of the car and bolted gracefully. He remained in his car and kept listening to his wife sing a song he wrote for about how he would never love anyone but me.

Clueless. I don't think it occured to him. I don't think he was trying to hurt me or push buttons or make a power play. I think he JUST DIDN'T GET IT. I was 20 when that happened to me. Now, I am 30...actually, sorry...31 and nothing has changed. Men still do hurtful things without having any idea that their actions are hurtful. And when you say - that was hurtful - they claim you are creating unneeded drama. And perhaps you are. Or perhaps you aren't. What I do know is that these situation aren't going anywhere. If I am going to insist on being involved with the opposite sex, then I am going to have to get used to it. Venus and Mars and all that crap.

Or maybe I will just learn to enjoy cunnilingus.

iPods and Other Delights

The actual day of my birthday has come and gone and was, unsurprisingly, pretty mundane. I didn't expect much for the 15th and, as always, that is exactly what I received. Leon's wrist has swollen up mysteriously and is causing him great pain and my LEFT leg has now started to give me troubles due to over compensating for my right. Due to this and a myriad of other aches and pains that we seem to both be battling, we had a night of terrible, restless sleep. When we awoke the first thing we did was go to the walk in clinic, followed by a trip to the emergency ward for Leon's x-rays. I was also called in to the theatre for a wig appointment as it seems my wig is making me look like I have a triangle Lego head.

I tried to nap before the show and did treat myself to a big burger. But the highlight of the day was purchasing my iPod. In fact, after I am done blogging, I intend to rip open my package and dive right in. Sylvie's gift to me was cool new headphones and Richard, from the cast, purchased me an iTunes gift certificate. A couple of other cast members also got me some lovely little gifts. Funniest gift goes to my boyfriend (whose real gift to me was an antique necklace that he gave me a few weeks earlier). Leon remembered a conversation we had when I mentioned that I always wanted a bread maker. So, THAT is what I got from my dear man. A breadmaker. Hilarious. Unique. Perfect. Just like him.

And now...now I have three days off in a row. I need it. I have been taken out of two dance numbers in the show temporarily because of how much pain I am in, so I am going to do my best to HEAL HEAL HEAL in these days off. The other interesting unfoldment regarding these days off is who it is that I won't be spending them with...Leon sat me down yesterday and pretty much said that he was in need of some 'him' time. Of course, at first, in my Krista-scarred-by-Jordan kind of way, I was totally freaked out. In my head we would of course be spending our days off together and when he informed me that he was not riding that same wavelength it seemed the only conclusion was that he was freaking out about our relationship and had never really loved me.

But after my small panic and a little bit of time to think about it, I realized that three days off from being a girlfriend or a room mate (Sylvie will be in Vancouver and Leon is still house sitting) or an entertainer would be gratefully welcomed. And when I admitted my fears to Leon about his wanting to be on his own for a couple of days, he did a marvellous job of assuring me that it had nothing at all to do with doubting Us and everything to do with him just missing Leon Time. I get that. I respect that. And even though it will be weird to have three days off in the same small town and not see or hear from each other at all, I am looking forward to filling my time with pure, unconditional Konkin Time.

I hope to try out the pool in town for some hamstring hydrotherapy and work on the piece of art that has hung unfinished over my bed for a month. I will rent the movies that I want to rent and start in on my new Flash tutorial book and do some nesting type chores around the house. Oh, to take walks with myself on the beach and work on my website and eat in bed and shop for music on iTunes and have long phone conversations. I might even try a new Somersize recipe or seek out the Value Village in Nanaimo. If there is one thing I have gotten good at since moving to Vancouver three years ago, it is knowing how to spend time alone. And I am sure that when we see each other again on Tuesday night or Wednesday morning we will have that much more hunger and happiness for our partnership. I really do love him. And I really do love me.

An excellent beginning to a strange age.

And now, I think a candlelit bubble bath is calling me................

Turning 31

Tomorrow I will leave 30 behind.

I intended to make my thirtieth year excellent. Full of risks and letting go and starting again and travel and getting my spine back. I am glad to say that I have succeeded. There has been a great many tears this year, but also more laughter than the year before and loads of great sex. I found myself back up on stage and have figured out - again - that I don't quite love the 'theatre contract' life as much as I once did. I spent most of my 30th year on Islands which was a true blessing and back in my home province which is also healing. I fell in love twice - once a little prematurely and once a little reluctantly - but have wound up in the grandest passion. I was able to let go of Jordan enough to allow this to happen, but also came to a place of peace with the knowing that I may always miss Jordan Lewin and may always ache a little inside when I think of him. My 30th year took me to Europe and sat me on Italian mountain tops and on Irish shores and THAT was the coolest thing I could have done for myself. This year has been packed with trying things I have never tried before with re-trying things that I had written off completely. It has been a good year...a great year...an unforgettable year. It was a year of Me - where boys played small, supporting roles - and I fondly bid it farewell.

So, hello 31. It is an odd age to be, 31. But I have good feelings about what's to come. A summer of romance and tap dancing cushioned by a weekly paycheque. The Teaching Experiment which is what I am coming to call the fall tour. Lots more travel AND a lot more settling back into my nest. Looking for and finding a cool, creative job that doesn't use my hamstrings and healing the poor ones that are currently wounded. Jumping totally off this Leon cliff and hoping, trusting, the net. Unknowns as always fill my future. What a way to live!! Embracing my new iPod and paying taxes for the first time because my annual income is actually over $20K.

31. Thrity freaking one. How in the heaven did I end up here so fast?

And does anyone know how to slow down this journey?

Suddenly Saltspring

I just had the most glorious two and a half days. In fact, the best two and a half days I have had since returning from Europe.

Leon and I were supposed to go camping. That was the plan, anyway. The initial thought was that a group of us would all go camping and it would be this fun, social outing for my 31st birthday. But as the Anything Goes rehearsals whittled away at each of our souls and my motivation to 'round up the team' diminished to faint embers and the rain seemed to plague the month of June - the group camping idea became less likely. In the end, I had an epiphany. Why not change the camping thing to renting a secluded cottage, change the group thing to just being me and my man and do it all on Saltspring Island - an Island that I have been aching to experience since spending last year on Pender? It seemed like a perfect idea.

And it was.

Our time was packed with perfection. Gentle rains and steaming cups of hot beverage, yummy surprise Sunday brunches, ideal accommodation falling easily into our laps, an insatiable amount of the best sex I have had - EVER, sneaky hottub rendezvous, spontaneous Tony's watchings, soul searching conversations while eating Spitz and drinking Diet Pepsi, smoky wood fires, in-house-one-man tap dancing shows, falling asleep while asking impossible questions, waking up in disbelief, the most comfortable bed we could have asked for, the sharing of Buffalo Pound's Banana Boat phenomenon, canoeing alllll the way to the Blue House, watching my lover jump into the freezing cold lake at midnight, swinging in tree swings, being chased by the crabs and hunting for the frogs, eating burgers at an Island pub, exploring the village stores, staying in bed until 2, laughing until we cried, dreaming because we felt safe and smooches to glue each and every piece together.

It was the best possible way to begin this, my birthday week. I turn 31 in a few days. My family has sent me the money for an iPod and we have had a Sunday show canceled next weekend which gives us another three day weekend which rocks seeing that I still haven't gotten my Suck It Up day. But this past few days with Leon, in that little piece of heaven, is already more than I could have asked for.

I loved it so much It has caused me to stop and wonder what is ultimately stopping me from living full time on one of these amazing Islands to which I am so connected? Part of me just wanted to quit this contract and give notice on my apartment and make the leap TODAY. No part of me wanted to return to put on costumes and kick my poor leg while pretending to have fun. I just wanted to be a normal woman, living on a beautiful island and leave the lights and glamour and applause for someone who craves them a lot more than I do. But the show must go on. And even if I don't do it TODAY, it doesn't mean I can't do it someday soon.

Until then, I will keep the last two and a half days inside somewhere to remind me...

...and get on with the business of turning 31.

I LOVE DAYS OFF

Leon and I are going to go lock ourselves in a cabin on Saltspring Island cabin for our precious days off and hide away from this rain in each other's arms.

Subletter leaving end of July. If anyone knows someone looking for a kick ass place from Aug-Dec, let them know my place is now available. Gawd, not something I want to deal with from Chemainus, but it is a kick ass place and I would be stupid to let it go....

Maybe?

Hamstring hurting. Found a great physio therapist who is doing wonders...using acupuncture, too...acupuncture without the needles...SUCH A GOOD INVENTION!

And, of course, I am in a rush and don't have much time to blog. Really, I am neglecting my MacBook altogether. Blame Leon. Five days until I am 31.

So much to say, so litte time.

Injured

On my day off I went to a massage therapist in hopes of healing this hamstring pull that has just compounded itself and decidedly become worse and worse. The woman was ... well... what are the words? There really aren't any words, at least not from my mouth mere moments after waking up, but I can tell you one thing. The right side of my body looks like she took a stick and beat me to a pulp. I am covered in bruises and am in quite a bit more pain than I was in before I went to the massage. Part of me and part of my cast are trying to believe that this is just the natrual reaction to such deep tissue manipulation and that the first few days afterward will be the worst. Another part of me and my hilarious boyfriend thinks that I paid $65 to be manhandled and that any healing that leaves you covered in bruises and worse off than you were originally is BAD NEWS.

We'll see. Right now, I am in pain. When my right hip, ham, core area is sore I am always brought back to Dawson City, 1997. I am brought back to Jamie and getting over Dean and crying helplessly on the massage table of beauiful Suzanne, a mountain woman who I met in a small woods cabin beside the river. I am brought back to the feeling of performing through pain, smiling through tears and cursing my body. But I don't want to curse my body. I am so proud of my body this summer for keeping up and being so strong and for pouring itself into itsy, bitsy costumes and for being round and feminine and for now, dealing with what I am asking it to do day in and day out. We can get through this Body. The bruises will heal. Soon we will kick again without wanting to vomit.

This body talk also brings up the next big decision that I need to make and make fast. Do I get an IUD? The gynocologist here, a pleasant and friendly man who is advocating the IUD as an excellent option for drug-free me, is ready to do it as a day surgery. Me, a pleasant and friendly woman, who is deathly afraid of needle, is hesitating. Weird thing is that I am hesitating also because it feels like the inserting of an IUD is a big signal to the universe that I don't want a baby. And I don't want a baby. Not now. But I DO kind of want a baby. See? It is all screwy in my head. What I must remember is that I can't let the fear of needles stop me from making a smart health decision and that an IUD can be taken out when I make the conscious decision to get pregnant. Which, let's be honest, at this rate isn't gonna happen for a loooooong time.

Loving my body is the theme today. Maybe even this week.

Which means, first things first, I should quit blogging and feed it breakfast.

Another Birthday Wish List

All I really want for my birthday (9 days from now! holy cow.) is an iPod and a Suck It Up Day from Leon. But since brainstorming is fun and one can't receive unless they ask, here is my Grand List of all that I would love to manifest for my 31st birthday...

1. Camping Equipment - tent, self-inflating mattress, sleeping bags, etc.
2. A Flash Tutorial Book or an actual Flash Tutorial by a human
3. Some good quality makeup brushes
4. A little kayaking
5. An iTunes gift certificate
6. The recording device attachment for my iPod
7. A Manicure and Pedicure
8. A trip to Kauaii in September with Leon
9. Season 3 Boxsets of Greys Anatomy and The L Word
10. The ability to eat anything I want, as much as I want and never gain any weight.

I shall stop there, though I am sure there are plenty more things that I could think of...

Truly, I look around at my life and admist the bumps and bruises, I see a life most extraordinary and I feel blessed. Still want to try that running thing and am questioning if I really have the guts to try smoking pot - even once - but all in all, this 30th year has exceeded my expectations.

Or like I have said before...

'Tis too good not to be true.

A Long Way From Graduation

My mother has always been excellent with a flyswatter. Watching her with one of those things in her hand is truly observing art in motion. She has a 98% accuracy rate and prides herself on never letting a fly go unswatted in her presence. The sun is shining in Chemainus, the flies buzz around The Basement and man, I miss my mother.

Yesterday I played that game where you ask the universe a question and then grab a nearby book, randomly open it up to a page and read. Whatever you read, you apply to the question that you asked. It is like a literary version of using a magic eight ball. So, after receiving a hurtful comment on one of my older blog posts, I walked over the other side of my room, picked up Miguel Riuz's The Four Agreements and opened it up to a random page. The first thing I read..."Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering." SPOOKY. Perfection really is everywhere.

Last night in the show I fell down during Anything Goes. Onto my ass. Boom. Right there in the very front row. I went to spin and the ultra slippery floor took me and spun me and placed me directly on my butt. Ahhhhh, it was humiliating!! But what do you do? I was in shock and the audience was concerned, but the only option was to pick myself up and just keep on tapping with a big smile on my face. Once I got backstage I burst into one of the longest belly laughs I have had in awhile. Luckily, I have been laughing alot lately at the absurdity of my Ego and the piccadillos Life keeps throwing me. Unfortunately, my Artistic Director - a man I admire and respect - happened to be in the audience. When I apologized to him, he just laughed as well and congratulated me on finishing the number. "That is all that matters!" he said. Hmmmm, another life lesson.

For any of you who have a little extra love in your reserves, please send it out to my friend whose name I won't type yet. Her long term relationship has ended, surprisingly to her, and her whole world has been toppled upside down. We all shared her faith in this relationship and were waiting for the wedding or baby announcements, so my heart is a little broken for her. It was only a year ago that I was toppled, trying to find my way upright again, and doing it in pretty isolated environments - and what I know is that if I was able to do it, she will. She is one of the strongest ladies I know.

Leon has moved out of The Basement for June to house sit for a fellow cast mate. He is only six blocks away, but the apartment is quiet without his whistles and deep, bass morning voice. It was hard to go to seperate residences last night after the show, but kinda peaceful as well. It gave me a chance to come home and make some tea and watch a Deepak video and slowly shave my legs and journal and hog the bed. Plus, it will give us some space as we work through some of the more confusing issues we must face (see post below). Kathianne Lewis told me this morning that being in love is great if you can concentrate on the connection - the love itself - which will transcend you instead of simply becoming attached to the trigger. So, I will let myself miss him a bit, but mostly celebrate all the girly things that Sylvie and I can do without that male presence around.

Lastly, my bedbug bites have stuck around long enough to cause a bit of a systemic reaction and I now have a generalized rash all over my arms and neck. Egad. My hamstrings are getting better though and my voice will hold up if I stay dedicated to taking good care of myself. Self care, humour, not taking things personally, love versus attachment, picking yourself up and finishing what you started...

It's Life University and every breath is a class -- and, like it or not, you can't help but get the credits.

Dear Abbey,

I am in some dire need of advice. I have met this guy and pretty much the moment I met him, I knew that I was going to fall wildly in love with him. He is currently my leading man in the show I am doing for the summer, my room mate and my very best friend - besides being my partner and lover. Our connection is rare and wonderful, we share a million things in common and ride on the same wave length. Our days are filled with laughter, passion, meaningful conversation and great sex. In fact, you could say he is everything I want in a long term mate. Except...

When I met him he smoked and drank. And I don't mean a kinda, sorta thing. I mean, he was a big time smoker and drinker. It was totally disappointing and yet, somehow, didn't diminish my attraction for him in the slightest. Still, when the chance arose for us to be together, they were hard habits for me to ignore and definitely not ones my heart could accept. Long story short is that after putting on the breaks early in the game, he quit smoking in a grand gesture to win me back and perhaps a little to save his own lungs. I even saw him cut down on the drinking. It was enough to sway me and I found myself back in his arms. There I have stayed for over a month, happily. Blissed out, in fact, most of the time.

But the diminished drinking habits didn't last very long. As rehearsals got more and more stressful and the energy at the theatre and at our house became more and more negative, he reverted to his normal amount of alcohol intake - an amount that far exceeded my comfort level. And it hasn't evened out and I don't think it will. It is, in his books, a very normal amount of beer to drink in a day, in a week, in a month and maybe most people would agree. It is hard for me to say because I am a non-drinker. But what I do know is that I am not comfortable with the signifigance that it plays into his - and now my - life.

The thing is, because he went the distance and quit smoking, I don't feel like I have the right to complain about his drinking. I have spoken to him about my concerns and luckily we are able to communicate extremely well, but at the end of the day if he has to keep restricting himself from the things he takes pleasure in then he will only feel like I am out to 'change' him and will eventually resent me. And if I truly love him, shouldn't then I love him for him and thus for all the beer he consumes?

It feels like an insurmoutable problem. If he has to radically reduce his drinking to a level I am comfortable with he will become resentful, secretive and feeling like he has compromised Who He Is. I feel like if I stuff down my discomfort and saddness about his drinking habits, then I will become resentful, disempowered and feeling like I have compromised Who I Am.

I don't want to say goodbye to this man. It will break my heart. But I want very much my life to be a drug free world filled with creative sobriety, especially in the man who is going to partner with me for life.

What do I do? Is there any way to find a win-win solution to this frustrating dilemma?

Signed,
Hoping For A Happy Ending