11:52 PM: The Bunker Days

Wait for dawn and dawn shall come...

It's been a heckuva few days. I'm not nearly so disoriented as I play, although I have been enjoying the adriftness of the Chrimbo season. We haven't done much but then again we haven't had much to do. I think the nothing is good but it doesn't always agree with my wife.

We've made some progress on the search for a surrogate. We wrote our profile and it was uploaded and we've seen some candidates. Nobody yet that fits the bill for us but it's only day 1. Mostly we've been in bathrobes and sweats watching The Americans and eating breakfast.

This is the life, in a way. Relaxation, wanting nothing, spending barely anything. I know it's made possible by toil and suffering the rest of the year but that doesn't make it not enjoyable. I think Mel's body feels like there should be more to do, more going on, so she's had some anxiety and some other physical symptoms. It's hard to know what to make of that. Sometimes I feel bad that I fall short in knowing how to help her, and other times I think so many people would be worse at it.

Yesterday Two days ago there was an appointment, and we were going to hit the mall and do some stuff: a haircut for me, maybe nails for Mel and some lunch, but the vibe was off so we went home and chilled. Today I picked up some groceries, did laundry and had a workout, then we went to mom's to see the aunts and cousins. It was nice, lively. At one point I felt a little blah when we discussed pets and their health (why does that always come up?) but I felt good when Lori engaged Mel about her work and about the surrogate process. It's nice to feel understood and supported. The kids are seeming more grown up but still like kids. We got Ali and Cam each a $25 gift card, they got us a $25 gift card -- that's where we're at.

It's been a lot of reading, which has also been nice. A lot of phone stuff, maybe too much phone stuff -- it's hazardous, one never knows when Mel is going to see something that she would be better off not seeing on Instagram but she likes it too much in general to put it away completely, I think.

It's been raining a lot. Lightly but constantly. Just sitting by the window in the morning watching the puddle slowly gather.

I watched a few of the new Doctor Whos. I've done a good amount of writing. I feel good about how I've used my time, no complaints. This has been a good week as far as I'm concerned and fixes to keep being good.

Tomorrow it's the spa and hotel, and then after that it's new year's nachos.

I thought this post might be more of a downer -- my brain's been a little fixated on some bad stuff lately, but honestly, things are right where I need them, near me.

Which is a refreshing change of pace for this blog.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

11:40 PM: Here comes another one, laughing

It's been another Christmas and Mel and I were left with 50-yard stares just wanting to go home and go to bed.

It's sad, really. Mel loves Christmas but, as she tragically related, "Christmas doesn't love me." There are so many obligations and so much to do that it doesn't seem to mix with her body chemistry. As the day was getting nearer and there was so much going on it really hit hard.

I try, you know. I try to make and keep everyone happy and give them what they're after, not in terms of gifts but attention and presence. That's the thing, the whole togetherness thing, which I appreciate in the abstract and feel I can do for people but at the same time am often left drained, and considering the effect it sometimes has on Mel and my tendency to feel empathetic toward her, it takes its toll on both of us.

Usually, I hate to say it, but my side of the family bears the brunt of this. Understandably, Mel has a bit more energy for her family and while it's not true that she has never been worn out by spending a lot of time with them, it happens less, and less-frequently. Then there's the running around to different locations and just packing it all into one day.

Day before Christmas Eve we went to the Mausoleum, which was nice. It was a bit of a schlep on a rainy night but we took Dundas and, apart from the dodgy stretch between Appleby and Tremaine it was fine. We decided that we would get dinner while we were out instead of going home and having Chicken Fingers. We offered the guys if they wanted to come along -- Eric was working, otherwise he would have, and Brandon declined for the usual reasons. Mel's parents had been earlier in the day and left little Christmas ornaments for Papa and for my Grandma, a very kind gesture. 

We ended up going for sushi at Neyagawa and River Glen. We reflected on the first (possibly last? I thought maybe there was one other) time we had been there, when we ordered way too much and I was anxious because I was still on my thing about eating in public (or rather, eating with people, being social etc.) This time it was a la carte only, not all you can eat. Mel worried we ordered too much but there were only a few rolls and one tempura yam left over. On our way over, Mel suggested I should take Sixth Line to River Glen, but I got disoriented in the dark and rain, and did some not-great driving, which I am always self-conscious about. 

The next day we did all our Christmas wrapping in a hurry before going to Mel's parents' place. This was when anxiety was starting to manifest because it was now Christmas eve and there was much to do. I believe we made time for everything that mattered but it is hard sometimes. We had wanted to make dog bark for Jake out of Yogurt and berries but ran out of time but I suggested we do it at the parents' place (Jake wouldn't know the difference) with the only loss being that Jake didn't get to unwrap a gift. Sad. We also didn't have time to bake gingerbread cookies or do the Oreo gingerbread house. Maybe today.

It was a long night. I don't complain, but it was literally from 3:30 until midnight. But you know, the company and conversation is always lively. Gifts were exchanged, I got some neat stuff and Ryan seemed excited about the game I/we picked out for him. I got this digital notebook -- you write on the page and then save it to the cloud. It was a really nice thoughtful gift, but I do have to think about how I'm going to use it. I don't even like the cloud, but Laura doesn't know that and again, I think it was a really cool gift. I can't remember what Mel got other than a bonanza from Zia Carmelina.

That night at home, Mel started to express sadness about all we would have to do the next day. I tried to soothe her while also expressing my own dismay: none of this is news and all was agreed to at the time. Not that peoples' feelings don't change but... yeah, it's thorny. She thought I was upset, and maybe a little bit I was but mainly I was sad she was sad because I want everyone to be happy, and I want to try to make everyone happy. I'm a people pleaser. This is my downfall.

I gave us the morning. I advised dad early on that we'd be getting a late start if at all, and would keep him posted. She got up at, hm, a reasonable time for Christmas morning. We exchanged gifts, lots of love. She's always wanted to just spend Christmas morning with her and I, but aside from last year this has never really been possible. I gave her some time to rest and figure out our next move, with no pressure to make any particular ruling: if we didn't get out to Oakville, we didn't. Dad even expressed some support, while also saying that he hoped to see us. I couched it in medical terminology, which is not false but maybe a little sly. I just feel like people are more sympathetic when it's a matter of health, which honestly this was.

We ate a breakfast on our own and then decided to go.

It was a nice little gathering, the usual for the most part, except that we got there after lunch. Mel had said we should bring the panetone, and I brought the wrong one, which was a shame. Count on me to make small unforced errors like that.

Anyway. It was all well and good until near the end as we were getting ready to take our picture, and suddenly and abruptly dad and I fell into a difficult political conversation that left a bad taste in my mouth. My mind lingered on it for the rest of the night. I'm hoping time heals that particular wound and we can all just move on with our lives. In the big picture it's probably just a blip, but man it did not feel good and you could tell dad's mood was altered as we were going -- Eric had thought he was bothered by the joke we always make where we inflate the amount of money he gives us (as a way of one-upping each other) but when I explained what had happened -- as it all took place during the few minutes he was in the bathroom -- it made more sense. I think he was a little colder to me than the others in leaving, which is why I thought it was more likely that.

Oh well. You know, I tend to fixate.

So that all ended on a sour note, and while I've toyed with reaching out to mend fences I think it's more likely we're going to pretend it never happened.

Then we had to rush to my mom's, and by this point Mel was flagging a bit, and no shade on my mom who means well and wants to be a good host but the day was just about done at that point, and she sent a few histrionic texts asking where we were already. We had to stop off at home which ended up being for naught because I had wanted to print off a gift card for her but it wasn't instantaneous so I ended up not having anything to give at all. Another reason to feel bad as if I needed one.

The night was what it was, occasionally veering into Mom's usual spleen venting, but largely us four left to our own conversational devices. I feel bad it wasn't more but man, at that point in the night/season, we're just not at our best anymore. I'm really coming around that Christmas isolation is the way to go. It's nothing against anyone of course, it's just protecting ourselves from exhaustion and overexertion and anxiety and depression. This is supposed to be a joyful time of year, yet in practice, has it ever truly been?

We got home and curled up into recovery mode. Mel and I confided to each other. I said I wished we had a baby so we could tell everyone we needed to stay home with the baby and it was all too much to do this running around, which I also said was a silly and selfish reason to want to have a baby and certainly not the main reason, but there's truth to it. Mel had some cereal and we opened Mom's gift, which was a tree made of various crystals that is meant to bring good luck and alight chakras. I don't know whether she's aware but I think this is the nicest and most thoughtful gift mom has ever given, there was such meaning behind it I was truly touched and I think Mel was too. It is now on Mel's bedside in what I would consider to be a place of honor.

Then we fell into our long winter's nap. Today is for nobody but ourselves. Tomorrow probably too except that she's got a doctor's appointment. Maybe I'll try to get a haircut. It's very freeing to be through all of this, but it does make one think what it all is for.

This song is dedicated... to you.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

11:28 PM: You hand me the knife

Surrounded all around and ground down.

Another long stretch where I have been meaning somewhat to post, but I can barely catch my breath. It's been a busy month and when I have not been busy I have been pointedly inactive, trying to rest and spend quality time. There have been fine days, bad days, hard days and even weird days.

I've been to the office a few times. One was on the night of Mel's Christmas party at Spin, where I just happened to volunteer to hand out books for a Geddy Lee event at Massey Hall. That was a fun if busy night. Between unboxing a thousand or so copies of Lee's book and doors opening, I went with Don, Kate and Rachel to the Eaton Center for a quick bite, which for me ended up being an A&W Burger. Then once the event started I worked those calories off -- which is not to say I count calories, but only that I used energy and was hungry again when I got home at the end of the night.

The next time was because we were doing a Christmas thing for the Print Team, but I didn't really read the fine print to know that it was all just a call, not any kind of gathering. Mel had wanted to go to her office that day so I thought it worked out, but the weather report said bad driving conditions so she stayed home (and convinced others to as well, neat to be such an influencer) but I already felt committed so I went in the afternoon -- only to find I needn't have bothered. But it was not at all a total loss: I ended up seeing Brandon F, and after all these years (literally since pre-COVID) gave him back his DVD of The Americans, which Mel and I have finally started watching and become engaged by (it also happens to be on Disney+, which came into existence in the time after I first borrowed the disc.) That ends a funny long-running story between us. We caught up, he expressed interest in my doings with the X-Men blog, etc. 

By the time I got home I was exhausted and drained. That's sort of been the theme of the holidays this year. I'm tired and I can't seem to get any time to do any Christmas shopping. Eventually I threw in the towel and ordered some stuff from Amazon, which I don't love doing. I took yesterday to break off from Mel and mission around to try to get some stuff done. It was... tough, but I got most of what I wanted. Well, I always want to do and get more but I got enough. There will be a Christmas this year.

We hosted dad and Deb one night the other week, for Chili, which was nice. We went and saw my mom last weekend; I put together a cabinet for her and we had dinner. We had put her off the week before because Mel was feeling drained from all the running around we did the day before. I felt a little bad about that but in that case I know where I stand.

It's been a lot of back and forth, people needing to see us, fixing glasses, etc. Too much and never enough, to borrow a phrase. Last weekend before going to mom's, we did the rounds of the glasses place, Value Village to finally drop off that stuff, then Mapleview for a few needed errands. I finally cleaned the garage so we could put the car in it, in time for a light dusting of  snow. If you can read between the lines you can see how drained and down I am/have been, but being able to get that blitz done yesterday buoyed my spirits. That's kind of the thing I guess these days, I don't write in here at my lowest, only when it's starting to pick back up.

I have a feeling this winter I am going to be nostalgic for last year when I literally couldn't do any work during the day. What a blessing that was.

I gave up on certain objectives that I had hoped to be done with by the New Year. Best to focus my energy elsewhere and pick it up later. We can only do so much.

Fertility is the main thing. Well, Christmas, then that. Last night we curled up and watched Die Hard.

I've poured myself out for now, even though some remains in the container.

I've got to tidy the basement, and we want to replace the toilets.

C'est la vie. Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

10:09 PM: How much, how fast, how far, how long

Sure, let's spend a little time on SWP this morning. What's the alternative, working toward my goal of completing a written work? Feh.

I'm seeing more and more Facebook "memories" lately, mostly from about 14 years ago, so I decided to look back on this blog and see what was up. I was greeted with a very long and very detailed rundown of every class I was taking, finals, exams, etc. That was helpful because the timelines get all jumbled for me and I certainly can't recall off the top of my head what I was taking when, but on the flip side, all my thoughts and ruminations on the somewhat dense topics I was studying -- literary theory, modern drama, short story collection -- I don't know the guy who wrote all that stuff or thought those thoughts. I was also working on my script for The End Of The Night. Man oh man, talk about a missed opportunity. I'm not saying I could have launched myself into the stratosphere but my inability to rig up even a token follow-up to Half-Past is such a miss. That first script was just such perfection because it came from such a brash and unselfsconscious mind (even though I really was self-conscious! Just not in my writing, I didn't know better and somehow pulled it off) but by 2009 I was 22, not 16, and the pressure was on. Somehow it never clicked.

It's all long gone.

I'm sore today. Last night we went out to the city for BoPo Fitness' 6th Birthday party. It was great to feel like part of the community again. Mel first joined up in 2018, very early on in the group's lifespan. I started attending classes the following year, or late that year, after demurring for a long time because I was not a "gym" person. It was very nice to be welcomed in, and be part of it, and to this day a lot of the O.G's know me, at least because I'm Mel's husband. The pandemic was a blessing and curse for it because you lost that sense of gathering, but the reach was able to be extended virtually, and for us working out from home was a pretty good transition especially after we moved.

Annie way, there was a lot of fuss over it, getting out there and whatnot. We had some errands to run. Knowing or assuming that the meal situation wouldn't be, um, much, we had a plan for what to eat when but we kind of altered it but I think it worked out. We came up against my lack of cognitive ability a bit (more on that later, if I remember). We took some of Mel's pants in to the dry cleaner to be hemmed, picked up some stuff at Shoppers, then proceeded -- after doubling back to the house for something -- to the Go station. There, we learned that Go trains weren't running from West Harbour to Oakville due to construction. I mean, who looks at the Go website before they leave the house, right? Well, we had time and it was an easy fix: we drove to Oakville and got on the train there. They had buses running from Burlington but did we really want to pile onto a bus at the beginning and end of the night, if it's all the same?

Train to Exhibition. By the time we got rolling and my phone was dipping below 50% battery I had wished I had put my book in our bag but c'est la vie. Already getting dark when we got off. We walked up to King St and got Shawarma at Liberty, a wise move. Then we plotted our route to the event and it was determined that the move was to just walk the whole way, since transit wouldn't get us near enough.

Well, it was a bit of a hike, but we made it, and people acted like we had walked from Burlington when we told them. It was nice to see familiar faces and meet new folks. There were speeches, a few exercises, and cake, and Mel got to see the baby (although I don't think she had a chance to hold her.) It didn't go late, they only had the space until 9:30. Mel had wondered if it would be okay to leave early. I assured her it would, feeling that she probably wouldn't want to.

I offered to get a cab or Uber back to the station (although how we would have paid for it, I'm not sure, given our credit card situation but it would have worked out) but Mel said nah we can walk. And we did, just stopping briefly. Got home at about 11:30 and flopped pretty much right into bed. I had thought I might have stayed up to unwind and get some snacking in, but fell asleep instead.

There's not a lot of news since the last post, except that we are officially able to upload our profile to find a surrogate to carry our baby, which is amazing and scary. 

A lot of financial stuff has hit us pretty quick, that being the bulk of it. We had a run of bad luck with some of the moves we've been trying to make, like setting up a new credit card for Mel and consolidating our banking at TD. A lot of it hinged on being approved easily for stuff that we have not been approved for, so we've been stressed trying to work that out (mostly Mel.) Then my credit card got swiped, probably at a gas station (grumble grumble) and I have to wait for a new one to arrive in the mail, which has significantly hobbled our financial freedom.

This past week we had an errant to run, returning some stuff Mel had bought at Michael's. There were complicating factors: she had bought three tee shirts at a Buy One Get One Free price (so one was full price) but the one she was wanting to return had been one of the Bogo Items, meaning they could only return it for $7.50 thus breaking the deal. The woman at the store -- oh, boy, we had a time with her -- seemed downright offended that we ask her to do anything to help us and provide good customer service. So we went back and forth with her before leaving in somewhat of a huff. I tried to be diplomatic but Mel could barely contain her rage, and at one point -- honestly before it had gotten all that heated at all -- this woman (whose name I could give but will not) claimed she was going to talk about us to the manager because she didn't like our attitude. I'm not sure what kind of threat that is, given we are the customers.

I know, I know, it seems like we're Karens in this situation, we're the bad guys from a certain point of view, but let me correct that. Mel and I both have over a decade worth of customer service experience. We know what's possible and what it's like when a CSR actually wants to help you, or when they are trying to blow you off. This was a hard blow-off, and not even a polite explanation for why she couldn't help us in the moment or what could be done. It was like pulling teeth with this lady. As it turned out, we needed to bring the other shirts back and re-do the deal, which is fine (it seems extra to me, but if that's the way the system works, then fine, we can abide it.) We left, got the shirts and went to another location where we encountered absolutely no resistance whatsoever from the teen behind the register. We know our shit.

That'll stay with us for a while.

Anyway. My mind's been a little scattered lately, which is frustrating for Mel. I don't really have a lot to say about it, it's just a bad tendency of mine that I'm not sure can be fixed. It gives me a lot of guilt and remorse and I don't like making her irritated but I'm only human and I deserve grace.

We're going to take it easy today. We're going to put up the garlands Mel bought for the bannister and pretty much just chill. I worry that I haven't spoken to my mom enough lately. We're having dad over this week, then seeing Joe on Saturday.

Living life.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto