Hey Eeyore, wanna do lunch? I hear misery loves company.

Sorry for the longer than usual break between entries. Life has been a touch chaotic of late and finding time for peaceful reflection has been difficult. The fact that I've had a twitching eye for the past 10 days is a bit of a wake-up call.

Ever get the feeling that your head is too crammed with stuff to actually do anything satisfying or productive with yourself? That’s how I’ve been feeling lately. Not a good feeling. Contemplating another move, battling infertility, biopsies for thyroid cancer, having a Mom in the throes of chemo, quitting a job, starting a new job, being told you’re at high risk for type 2 diabetes, undergoing the adoption process, learning how to sew, joining Weight Watchers… well, you can see why I’m swimming in circles.

The logical thing to do is erase a few of these things off the list and allow myself to focus on just a couple. So, here’s what I’ve arrived at:

1. Stop worrying about the move. Stay away from MLS, cease the daily prospect listings from our agent for the time being and limit the condo selling efforts to a poster in our lobby.
   
2. Join Weight Watchers again starting this Saturday. Self-esteem and motivation is at an all-time low and it’s due largely to the weight gain sitch.
   
3. Focus on having a good interview with the United Way on April 3rd.
   
4. Know that thyroid surgery won’t likely happen until the summer anyway
   
5. Have one last consult with the RBU at Mt.Sinai before we start the adoption process (which I will discuss in greater detail at a later date)
   
6. Find the joy in doing 3 hours of sewing every Saturday morning for the next 6 weeks
   
   I think this is relatively sane and reasonable. We shall see.

For fast acting relief, try slowing down

What a great little saying, coined by the wry Lily Tomlin. Duly noted, Lily.

I have only one reason to post today. The weather was glorious! Mother nature's magical elixir of tweeting birds, thawing grass and intoxicatingly fresh air was truly heaven sent. Don and I went for a long afternoon walk in my numero uno neighbourhood of choice to buy a house. Roncesvalles Village. We stopped in at Daddy-O's Milk Bar and got a tasty espresso milk shake titled "Little Green Men from Mars" to go. Up and down the blocks we went. Even the names of the streets put a smile on my face. Constance Ave. Garden Ave. And our favourite--Marmaduke Ave.

Gee, have I bothered to announce that Don and I are selling our condo? Well, we are and we're trying to do it privately, so we can bank as much moola as possible to put towards a house.

Today when we got home, I decided to do something a little left of centre in the world of househunting. I drafted a letter that I plan to put in the mailboxes of about 50 homes in the Roncy area. The plan is to buy some nice stationery and role it up like a diploma with some pretty ribbon and cross our fingers that the yocals can give us the inside scoop. Here's how the little note reads:

March 18, 2006

Hello,

Our names are Don and Sarah Banks and we’re interested in buying a home in the Roncesvalles Village/Parkdale/High Park area.

We currently live in a condo at Bloor and High Park but have our hearts set on finding a home in your area. The market, as we’re sure you know already, is very competitive and that is why we’re trying to “think outside the box” on how to find a home we can see ourselves living in.

If you or anyone you know is thinking of selling their home in the near future, we’d greatly appreciate you passing along our contact info.

Ideally, we are seeking the following:

· 3 bedrooms
· 2 bathrooms
· older character
· plenty of sun
· parking space

We’re prepared to take on a home that needs a reasonable amount of work but we’re keen to find a house with “good bones.”

Depending on the condition of the house, we are looking at paying between $325 and $375K.

We’re fairly flexible on the possession date but would like to move in by late summer, early fall. We greatly appreciate whatever insight or tips you can give us.

Many thanks.

Don and Sarah Banks
Ph: 416-766-0512
don.sarah.banks@gmail.com

Sarah too?

Sarah too? was a phrase made popular by yours truly when I was about 2 years old. It would innocently fall from my lips whenever an adult was doing something that I *too* wanted to participate in. Be it wrapping Xmas presents or a trip to the beer store, I was sure to chime in.

Ironic, that as a full grown adult, I now say this to myself silently whenever I see a woman who has conceived with the greatest of ease.

*Above is a shot of my Mom and Dad holding me up in Peterborough. I'm about 10 months old.
According to Don, I look like a little dolly. I won't argue with him.

Cease and de-cyst!

You can imagine my disbelief when I was told that both of my ovaries were "quiet" today. To my ignorant ear, quiet was just another way of saying useless, but I soon learned that quiet was a good thing. Quiet means they're cyst-free! And essentially ripe for follicle growth!

This cycle, they're upping the Clomid to 150mgs, day 3-7, I'll have the 1500mgs of Metformin and I'll be giving myself a gonadtrophin hormone shot when the egg release time is right.

This past week or so, I felt like I was living in a cave. Learning of my quiet egg makers has made me want to poke my nose out and get some fresh air.

The Gathering

I feel like I have a lot to talk about but I'm stupefyingly tired for some reason, so I make no guarantees on the validity or entertainment value of my virtual spew.

Last night I had a memorable get-together with old friends (you know who you are). Lots of wine and nostalgia and some priceless moments of nose-snorting hilarity. And yet for all its gaeity, I also caught myself very aware of the more serious elements of the gathering. I wouldn't call it sentimentality. It was more of a tender reminder of how short life is, how life has a way of becoming more complicated as we age and how these casual pow-wows are perhaps more important than we realize.

After 5 short hours of heavenly conversation and heartwarming self-reflection, I made my way to the subway. I consciously relished my reverie in -12 temperatures. "This slice of my life," I thought to myself, "has made me somehow better. Forever."