Happy Fun Times in Toronto

Posted in Bumpboobs, Canada, Fun, Life by

Zsolt and I have run away to eploe! Actually no, we’ve been married for five years. But that’s a fun sentence to write. Zsolt and I have actually run away for mini vacation – or ‘mini break’ as they say in England. This weekend we are in Toronto for the Mirror Ball, but also, we decided that while we’re down here, we would catch us a NBA Basketball game with the Toronto Raptors.

Raptors Game

And that’s exactly what we did last night. Oh my goodness, I don’t think my husband’s smile can get any larger than it was yesterday evening.

So, we left Ottawa thinking it might be tight, but there’s at least be time for me to tap a post-drive nap in the hotel room before hussling to the game. Wrong. We left way too late, and arrived way too late. There’s wasn’t even time for me to grab dinner from Chipolte, which I’d been craving on the drive down.

“We can get hotdogs at the game. It’ll be the full game experience,” says Zsolt in the hotel room as we realize there is no time for a proper dinner.

Anyhow, it was late and we were late so we busted a move out of the hotel room and set off on the subway toward the Air Canada Center. (Personal beef moment: What is up with Air Canada now charging for the first piece of checked luggage? They do it because they can do it. But that’s a grade-A discount airline move, and not at all impressive).

Right so, we’re in the subway riding along to the game. There’s a connection at Bloor or something. Connection caught.

“It’s too bad we didn’t bring the camera,” I say. Because these are the moments you want a camera for, right?

“Augh!” says Zsolt. He is upset we didn’t bring the camera.

And then the next moment, he goes, “Hey, did we bring the printed tickets with us?”

And I go. “AUgh!”

No, we didn’t.

We did however bring the mobile phone which is steadily heading toward zero charge. BUT, if we can just download the Ticketmaster app and bring up our account the online tickets will be there. So we get off the metro, and begin downloading the app. It’s about 15 minutes till the game starts. Meanwhile the phone is having it’s own countdown of battery life 20 percent, 18 percent, 16 percent…

Eventually the app uploads, (after we gave it access to everything on the phone in a desperate attempt to hurry things along) and we have the tickets.

Then we bust a move to who knows where. All I know is one minute there are a lot of people, then a lady giving directions, following by me charging through the crowd, across the street, up an escalator over a bridge and then, finally, when we hit about 12 percent charge on the phone and our tickets, security to get in.

Whew.

Zsolt buys is six dollar hotdog. It’s a Nate hotdog, so I ask him if it tastes like New York. He tells me it tastes like Hungary, and believe you me that is not a compliment.

One last flash of the ticket to the usher, an we’re in our seats!! (And lucky for that, I didn’t realize we had to show the ticket again!)

What followed was basketball bliss. Zsolt was ‘Woohoo’ing and explaining the more complex rules, and whenever there was a chance of winning a t-shirt he stood up and waved his arms while I held the jackets and pretended we weren’t so, so, so high up. The guy had an amazing time. I haven’t seen him have such a good time in a while. It really made me happy to see him so happy.

Sometimes I forget that Zsolt is going through a lot of stuff. With work and CT scans, he goes through so much. If I could give him a Raptor’s game every weekend, I would. But maybe it’s even more special for being a first-time treat.

We are happy with the scan results. I am not quite so happy, okay, to be honest – because the cancer stopped it’s shrinking and a couple spots may have possibly grown, with the appearance of what may be a new tiny spot. The oncologist says that it might have been there all along, and results on such small scales depends on how the CT scan cuts when taking a picture. And so we wait till the next scan to know more, and see if stable really is stable.

In the meanwhile, we are here in Toronto, and we got to see our first NBA game. How awesome is that? It is awesome. And now onto my kind of fun – the Mirror Ball!! WOoohOO!!!

 

The Bizzaroness of Not Being Liked

Posted in Bumpboobs, Life by

Ever piss someone off so badly that they completely stop making eye contact with you and pull a passive aggressive routine when you attempt to interact with them? Yeah? Me too!

I’m not sure how many people in this world hold an official grudge against me, but I reckon it isn’t too many. For sure that security guy at that airport in Toronto definitely had a beef with me. That was a strange one. One second I’m going through the security check-in worrying mostly about whether my prosthesis would set off any alarms if I had to have a pat down – and debating whether it would be more worthwhile to tuck it into my carryon bag where a different security guard would see it via an x-ray and be like “she has a boob in her bag!” – when all of a sudden, I’m in front of this guard, and he says something that feels weird to me, and I say something feels rude to him, and suddenly it becomes extremely tense.

But in general, I prefer someone to feel respected and appreciate. And for sure I hate to feel like garbage in response (which means I hate getting into trouble of any kind). Okay, maybe there has been a couple times like the above, etc, when what I did was definitely not taken as I meant it to be taken – and then as a response to that, I reacted in a way that wasn’t so productive because some part of me automatically flips into ‘smart ass’ mode. (Smart-Ass Catherine has such a good time. Seriously, I kinda love that part of me, but hate the bad feelings that always follow.)

Anyhow, in today’s case, I’ve upset someone. The trouble here is that I am not exactly sure what I did that was so deep-grudge worthy. And upon my approaching this person to discuss the bizzaro tension between us today, I was quickly shut down by some hard-core denial on their side about our obvious situation.

While not being liked definitely makes me uncomfortable and is currently taking up some head space, particularly since I interact with this person quite often lately . . . it also makes me feel kind of . . . well . . . not terrible.

For instance, I don’t feel terrible for thinking they are acting like a passive-aggressive idiot.

And I don’t feel terrible for standing up for myself and not accepting their garbage.

And I definitely don’t feel terrible for what might have pissed them off originally, if that is indeed the thing that pissed them off.

AND I don’t feel terrible for now not trying to be nice, anymore.

Okay, I know that everyone has their own stories that result in the way they see and react to the world. And I know that the way a person acts toward me, or I toward them, often only minimally has to do with that actual interaction and has far more to do with deeper issues. I know all of that.

But sometimes it is really tempting to say: “fuck off and stay out of my way.” You know? I’m not saying this should be the answer to world peace. I’m just saying, it feels good – at least in my head.

I tried to open up a conversation to address the tension- but that crashed and burned. If they aren’t ready to not be angry, than I really can’t do anything about it. So here are the options: I’d rather 1) not have to be around this person as they stew in whatever they are stewing . . . however, it cannot be helped, so, therefore, I am looking forward to the day that I 2) get over their anger – so much so that it doesn’t faze me when they refuse to talk, look or work directly with me. That is called a ‘thick skin’ right? Right. It’s a skill to be learned, and I know this is really a “no big deal” situaiton so maybe it’s a good way to train my skin for thickness.

Anyhow, I am not used to being so openly disliked. This will need processing on my side, too. In some ways, I might as well be grateful for the weekly distraction of tension since tomorrow morning I get scan results, which is definitely one case where I have no trouble asserting my honest reaction to a situation:

Dear cancer,

Fuck off and die.

Sincerely, the body that doesn’t need you any more. i.e. Catherine