Ride With Me.

I was placing an absolute ton of blame on some random ad exec for approving the most recent Honey Nut Cheerios ad, but then I realized that, hey, Nelly is 50% to blame here, too.

~sarah p.

p.s. Can you imagine Nelly sitting down and eating semi-healthy cereal for breakfast every morning? It's just a really disenchanting thought. At least pour some cough syrup on it or something.

Posies and Affection.

After seven long, seemingly-happy years in a long-term relationship, I have been dumped.
(pause for relentless sobbing)
Not to fear, dear friends, because according to Netflix, where I spend most of my miserable hours nowadays, an adorable, quirky shop keep with a heart of gold is around the corner, waiting for his moment to shower me in posies and affection in five, four, three, two...

~sarah p. 

p.s. Not to make light of this- I assure you I am awash in consistent waves of sorrow.  My self-doubt is at an all-time high, my heart is in the gutter, and I'm really not sure how I'm going to pull through. xoxox
p.p.s. Have you guys been on American Netflix? So many movies! Ahhhhhh!

Consciously Unconscious.

I didn't always realize I was an insomniac. My parents used to tell people that I "wasn't a good sleeper", but I always thought it was pretty normal to stay up all night. I didn't understand why other teens didn't know all of the names of the family members on 'My Three Sons', or could repeat all of the words of the Danny Bonaduce infomercial. I didn't get why everyone would always say that sunsets were so beautiful- I saw one almost every single morning as I finished the last pages of a novel.

As I rounded out my high school career, things got as bad as they have ever been. It had been days since I had slept, and I could see the walls breathing. Everything was shaded the wrong color, and my brain was basically giving up. Doctors marveled at my ability to stay awake. As it turns out, the human body requires a fair amount of rest, and I was anything but rested.

After a very small stay in hospital, my sleep stabilized for a few years, but since getting back from Mexico in March of last year, my patterns have spiraled wildly out of control. I kept my mouth shut, and struggled for a while, but when I finally came clean, my family doctor wrote me out a prescription for magical blue pills. "These", he said, "are a temporary solution".

After months of waiting, I was connected with a doctor who specializes in sleep disorders. He cut back my medication, which I was honestly popping with reckless abandon, and put me onto a regulated sleep deprivation program. He assured me that he was able to cure the majority of all sleep disorders this way. He told me I would see results in a week.

 Four weeks later, I was back in his office. He nodded sympathetically as I explained that I had extended the program four times longer than I was supposed to, and jotted down some notes that he kept guarded from my eyes. I had not had any success with his program. My body was already used to the cycle of insomnia, and if anything, I thrived with the extra time in the mornings and evenings.

"Sleep testing", he said, "is the only answer". I met with the sleep therapist, who informed me that if I was unable to sleep, I would have to repeat the testing until I had a somewhat successful evening of slumber. No pressure. In a calming tone, she told me that most people have no trouble sleeping attached to a machine. I appreciated her stab at reverse psychology, but nice try, dude- I was sitting inside a sleep clinic, where people who are adaptable sleepers would never, ever go.

Last night, I strapped myself with enough wires to make a suicide bomber jealous. There were tubes around my chest, in my nose, and down my arms. I placed and re-placed the wires, terrified I would have to do the test for another night if anything was out of place. I was supposed to take a half dose of medication, but instead, I doubled up. I propped myself up with pillows and put on the most dry, dull movie about birds. This morning, I dropped the machine off and waited nervously for the sleep therapist to tell me my test was successful. She came out and gave me a thumbs-up, and that's all I got. I will have to see the doctor in a month to go over the results.

Sometimes I wonder what it's like to dream every night, and wake up feeling refreshed. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to take gentle naps and not have to tranquilize myself every fucking night like an angry elephant. Mostly, though, I just wonder what it's like to be consciously unconscious, on purpose, without a fight, beside my loved ones, because I bet it's really, really nice.

~sarah p.

10 Greatest Summer 2013 Meals.

1. Los Chilitos Mystery Tacos.
I usually go up to this stall in Crossroads market, and ask them for three random tacos. Sometimes they give me beef, or chicken, or pork, or chorizo, and sometimes I'm not even sure. They have a million wonderful salsas, and cold Jaritos (pineapple or guava, depending on my mood). 

2. Milk Tiger's Champagne Cocktail. 
I like going to Milk Tiger, because it makes me feel classy, but a few of these booze-mixed-with-booze cocktails, I am anything but. 

3. Hana Sushi's Calamari. 
On Friday night, Tina ran outside in the rain, and hid in Reggie's dog house. It took me two-and-a-half long, cold, wet hours to get her back in the house. I ordered sushi delivery, and these crunchy, salty pillows of heaven were my reward for a night's hard work.

4. Great Taste's Bead Curd Sheets. 
Whenever we go to this restaurant, they ignore the shit out of us, but they make all kinds of dumplings and meatballs wrapped in thin, rubbery sheets of bead curd. The first time I had the sheets, I wasn't so sure of the texture, but I found myself at home craving dim sum that we have to fight for.

5. Bag of Mixed Candies From Oklahoma.
Hand delivered by Sara D. 'Nuff said.

6. Alaturka's Lamb Kebab.
I often visit this Crossroads Market gem for breakfast, problem being, there's no way in hell I can top this meal for the rest of the day.

7. Okanagan Peaches. 
These were smuggled from farm to bus to plane to table, and, despite a fairly substantial allergy to stone fruit, I polished off half a case.

8. Mallow Cups in +30C weather.
If you keep a candy bucket, like myself, then you will know that it can become a total meltdown disaster in hot weather. That is, except for the mighty Mallow Cup, which pools in the most spectacular, sticky way.

9. Deville's Brom Lake Duck Pastrami Eggs Benedict.
We usually go here because it's the only place without a line, but this Benedict can't be missed (by anyone who has no concept of how calories might totally destroy your body).

10. Salmon Cooked on Fire In Backyard.
Nenshi told us to curb our electricity consumption during the floods, so I piled up the wet, brightly painted wood in our back yard and cooked a salmon fillet wrapped in home-grown celeriac leaves. I may have poisoned myself, or killed a whole bunch of brain cells with the surely-lead-based paint chips burning to cook my fish, but it was worth it.

~sarah p.

So Long, Summer.

~sarah p.