You know what I've realized in the last few days? I've actually NEVER lived completely alone for more than a few weeks at a time. I thought I lived by myself most of my life, but actually I've always had either a) parents and siblings, b) roommates, c) husband / boyfriend / gold digger / asshole, or d) pets. Strange.

I've never had a problem with Canadian winter in my life. And I used to work outside all winter, too, unlike all the whiny Canadians who sit indoors year-round making up lies about the weather. But that's another story. The point is, I have no problem with winter. But boy do I fucking hate the thaw.

Having discovered that I'll buy her cheesecake if she's sick enough, Her Majesty is now refusing to eat anything BUT cheesecake. You think you're clever, eh, you dog? Well it's a lot cheaper to have you put down than to keep you alive on a cheesecake diet, so eat your d-d dog food.

(True story: I named her "Sissi" because she's gorgeous, demanding, and she has a habit of not eating if she doesn't get her way.)

Everyone was finally sleeping quietly when my alarm went off to remind me it's Pakistan v. Bangladesh time. Fak u, cricket. You woke my dog.

Hey wait, that means it's after midnight and the dog is still alive. I thought March 29 would have been so apt for her to die... but of course it wouldn't be like her to do something that has an appealing logic when she can stay up all night knocking things over and breathing like Darth Vader instead.

Il est une heure... c'est le guet... dormez sur vos deux oreilles, bonns gens.

Weiss and Zohary: done. Lepenski Vir I: done. Mehrgarh I... not done. Sigh.

Hey, I can see Nawaz Sharif's house from here! Thank you Google Maps, that was completely gratuitous.

14:00: the dog is barely breathing. 18:30: she runs all around the block at a fast trot. WTF?????? If you think you're getting more McD's and cheesecake, my dog, you're very much mistaken. You're clearly well enough to eat dog food.

Well it's nice that in between bouts of dying, HM has the energy to do all the things that annoy the crap out of me like crawl under the piano and knock over her soup bowl.

So I went to eat lunch thinking the dog was in the home stretch. I come back upstairs and she... is awake and wants to go pee and eat cheesecake. Oh, my dog. You're just gonna be ornery right to the bitter end, aren't you?

Suddenly I couldn't hear HM breathing anymore so I checked. She's breathing seven times per minutes and shallow. Hmmmmm... This would totally be relevant if I had ever timed her breathing before for comparison.

Today HM ate only one wedge of Laughing Cow. So, I went out and bought her McDonald's and some cheesecake. Just the smell of McDonald's perked her right up... she ate the whole thing without even breathing, and half the cheesecake. If she dies tonight at least she'll have had a good last meal.

Shot with my phone on March 19. She's dozing with her head on my shoulder.

I thought HM would be hungry after clearing her stomach. She's not. She drank a little this morning, looked at some cream of chicken soup for a while and went back to bed.

I take that back. She's now vomiting mucus. And with her throat being half closed as it is, the whole thing is a bit traumatic.

Turns out the Store Manager was working half the night shift so she offered to let me off at lunch and drive me home. So I get home and the dog is... just fine. Or just as fine as she was earlier. Not dead. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

Now... what am I gonna do with the rest of the night??

Instead of having her usual freakout while I got ready for work, HM put herself to bed at 2125. She didn't even blink when I said good night and left. Please God, let me see her again in the morning.

Wow. Her Majesty just ate 10 wedges of Laughing Cow. That's 350 calories. It would be a good sign except that she's barely moved all day and she staggers when she walks. She was shaking again this morning, too. It's one of those days when I think the end is near.

Whenever I think Her Majesty is eating rather well she takes the opportunity to remind me that almost nothing is coming out of her system at the other end. I know Iams is full of fillers and produces more waste but still... no denying that she IS gradually not-eating herself to death. (On the other hand, no bleeding today, thanks be to God.)

Every few days I think the dog is just about dead, and then the next day she looks better. Yesterday she bled everywhere, today she chewed on her pig's ears that she hasn't been touching since she got sick. Of course the "better" days are only relative, but days like today I get the feeling she might have a few months rather than weeks. And some days... not.

Me: I'm stressed.

Muslim friend: Can you recite the Quran?


Er... No. I'm Christian. I can't even recite half the Creed (and that only because I sang it in choir 20 years ago.)

I have two categories of clothes: the ones that are covered in blood stains, and the ones I won't wear again until after the dog dies.

Her Majesty had a major nosebleed while we were outside on her bathroom break. Now there is a trail of blood leading to the house.

As much as it's terribly horrible that Her Majesty is dying, when she's completely finished dying I will move to an apartment by myself and for the first time since I was 18, I will not have to look for a place that allows pets. The Lord is gracious and compassionate.

Diana: But then what will I read about on Facebook?

Me: Hopefully, how wonderful life is without roommates.

Me, to Pro Desk manager: You know that guy Pardeep?

Pro Desk manager, absently: Mmhm?

Me: Is he like, really clingy, or is he just really clingy with me?

Pro Desk manager: No, I think it's just you.

Me: Yeah cause every time I walk in and he's here he follows me around making conversation.

Pro Desk manager, suddenly remembering the guy is a manager: Wait - what??

Me: K bye.

=====
My job has its downsides but it makes me laugh.

Not quite three wedges this morning. I could make a pie chart and watch the coloured part grow thinner every day... I wonder if she'll die before, after, or on the same day that she eats zero wedges.

You know how in dance you're supposed to spot your head when you turn? I could NEVER get the hang of that. Shrink-wrapping pallets though? Definitely spotting when I do that. Also I build my pallets in corbelling. Because I can.

Assholes are always quick to notice that I always take care of my responsibilities, and then they figure if they can make THEIR responsibilities into mine, they're on easy street. What they never notice, because they're assholes, is that I know the difference and the moment it suits me I'm gonna let them down without any warning and enjoy watching them freak out. I'm a real bitch like that. People never quite realize it.

GEESE ARE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy!!

Six months of ballet and half the class still doesn't know where to line up. Sigh.

Six months of ballet... still can't remember what time the bus is.

Her Majesty slept all day and breathed quite well. She clearly had no energy and fell down a lot. In the afternoon I put her on the bed with me, she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder so that I had to sleep in a stress position for several hours. I'll miss that very soon but holy crap my shoulder hurts now.

In the evening she had a burst of energy, which she does every evening. I think it's because she knows I'm leaving for work. Sometimes I think it's just stress, other times I get the feeling she's actually showing off and being playful (which she usually isn't) to try to get me to stay with her. It always makes me sad. Anyway while she was at it, she ate 1 1/2 cups of dog food. So altogether today she had about 1/4 to 1/3 of her calories. No wonder she has no energy. However, she is not dehydrated, her gums are pink, her eyes are alert, and she's not shaking or incontinent right now so...

So what, exactly? I don't think Friday is her last day. Then the weekends usually help her because I'm home with her for two days, so Monday should be ok. So... next Friday? Who knows. If she would just get gradually weaker like this, that's not so bad, except it's so tiring to keep wondering "when".

I don't mind that she has to die before me. I don't mind that it's a year sooner than I expected. I DO mind watching her die for so long.

Woke up. Took the dog out to pee. Most glorious day EVER, thanks be to God. The air is mild and smells of spring and you want to sit down on the snow-covered lawn and listen to the birds sing for hours. I thought "I should have worn shoes, she's going to want to walk."

But...

She peed, and then turned around and walked straight back to the house. Didn't even look at the lovely weather.

Friday? Monday? Or... not?

Three Laughing Cows today. Who knew you can measure life in units of cheese?

When you say goodbye to your dog before work and after "see you in the morning" you start adding "inshaAllah".

Her Majesty's health bulletin.

For three days (Saturday to Monday), HM actually ate her entire calorie requirement, give or take a few. On the other hand her breathing got considerably worse. It made a horrible sound and she wouldn't sneeze or cough to free it. So I suppose the obstruction shifted more towards her airway and away from her throat. On Sunday I figured she probably wouldn't go past this Friday (March 21).

Yesterday, though, it didn't sound too bad. So she actually ate AND breathed fairly well. Well.... "fairly well" is a relative term, in this case. But she ate and she breathed quietly, so that was an improvement.

Today, not so much. When I came home and tried to wake her, she wouldn't get up. I carried her outside, she peed, I carried her back upstairs and she went right back to sleep. I just woke her up and took her out again now, and then gave her some Laughing Cow. She ate only 3 1/2 wedges and hasn't touched any other food today. She hasn't even been drinking, whereas usually she drinks a lot. She's breathing quietly and that's about the best that can be said for her right now.

So... Friday? Monday? Or... not?

Me at voice lesson: The difficulty with this aria is that the character is a teenaged boy discovering his sexuality, and I'm a devout, celibate [my real age] woman.

Voice teacher: You WHAT????

Me: What?

Voice teacher: You're how old?

Me: [my real age]

Voice teacher: You're not.

Me: Yeah, I am.

Voice teacher: Seriously?

Me: That's what it says on my driver's license.

Voice teacher: No way.

Me, handing her my driver's license: Yeah, that's what it says.

Voice teacher: Wow. Holy crap. Really. Wow.

=====

Yep, I'm THAT old.

Santa is real!!!! And he's a pigeon.

There. I managed to insert Pakistan's goat situation into my History of the World. Like a BOSS.

Some studies suggest that goats came from three main domestication events, in Iran and Anatolia from the bezoar, and in Pakistan from the markhor. Other studies reject the markhor theory. Frankly it's hard to believe goats were NOT domesticated in Pakistan.

Psalm 100

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth.
Worship the Lord with gladness;
come into his presence with singing.

Know that the Lord is God.
It is he that made us, and we are his;
we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
and his courts with praise.
Give thanks to him, bless his name.

For the Lord is good;
his steadfast love endures forever,
and his faithfulness to all generations.

Is it just me or...?

K, for my even more recent Facebook friends, here is an updated version of the "how I became obsessed with Imran Khan" story.

==========
For nine years, I lived in a small, isolated town where no guy would go out with me. And every guy I asked for coffee never spoke to me again. So, it became a running joke in my life to say "I should ask (some guy) for coffee." The more unrealistic, the better.

Also, for unrelated reasons, I'm learning the entire history of the world.

Then, on 27 January 2013, I left the small isolated town and moved 2400 km away to Winnipeg. And the first thing I did was to go check out the nearest library to see what they had about world history. And in the world history section, sitting on a shelf facing out, there was a book with a photo of Imran Khan on the cover. I recognized him because I often read about him in The Economist.

So I look at the book and it says "Pakistan: a personal history", by Imran Khan. Great. Pakistan is important in world history. I must read this book.

So I take the book home and I look at the photos of Imran inside, and I thought "hey, this dude is rather handsome. I should ask him for coffee." <---- remember, running joke about asking unlikely guys for coffee. Then further in the book, I find out that he's divorced. So I was like "hey, he's divorced! I REALLY should ask him for coffee!" <---- still part of my running joke, see?

Then, I followed PTI's Facebook page, to see what sort of politics he was up to, and from there I followed "Explore the Beauty of Pakistan", and it was beautiful, so I started sharing the photos of Pakistan on Facebook.

Then... Several of my French and Canadian friends started abusing me for my interest in Pakistan. Er... Why? What is it to you that I'm looking at beautiful photos of Pakistan? Douchebaggery...

Well, since they were harassing me, I got MORE interested in Pakistan. But of course I couldn't read most of PTI's campaign materials, because they're in Urdu. So instead of learning Farsi like I was supposed to (for the purpose of reading history), I started learning Urdu. The first word I learned in Urdu was "tabdeeli". The first word I learned to read in Urdu was "Pakistan".

But reading about politics is difficult. Reading about cricket is easy because most of the words are really English. So I started reading a lot of cricket stories. To learn Urdu, right? And then I thought, I'll just watch one cricket match. Just one, so I have an idea what they're talking about.

The moment I watched cricket, I became addicted to it. Which is weird because I hate watching sports. So now I want to have coffee with Sangakkara, not Imran. But other than that I'm still totally fascinated by Pakistan.

So now you know.

The Great Dog Dilemma: the dog paces when she needs to go out, or when she's having trouble breathing. Going outside aggravates her breathing. So do I take her out and risk aggravating her breathing, or not take her out and risk her going in the house? (Seriously I totally don't care if she goes in the house at this stage, but it upsets her. And being upset ALSO aggravates her breathing.)

"He sat in defiance of municipal orders, astride the gun Zam-Zammeh, on her old platform, opposite the old Ajaibgher, the Wonder House, as the natives called the Lahore Museum."

Called the bank again. Talked to a supervisor. He fixed immediately what the minions took a week not to solve. Hmmmmmm... You know what's strange? At my job the supervisor is the LAST person who would solve a problem for you.

The first time that... I looked at my dog and asked her "is it today?"

I was reading back through my Facebook and found that the first nosebleed was February 17 and 1:10 AM. 23 days ago. Only? Seems like I've been living this nightmare forever.

Ok, sorry I haven't kept up here. The amount of stress in my life is unreal. I'm gonna update backwards from today and see if I get caught up.

Today for breakfast Her Majesty ate: six (6) wedges of Laughing Cow. SIX wedges. That's a lot, right?

Wrong. That's about one third of her daily requirement of calories.

Funny how when you're trying to eat, everything is riddled with calories, and when you're trying to keep your dog alive, you can't find calories for love or money.

For purely mathematical reasons, Her Majesty will probably continue being alive until at least April 18th. Just because next paycheque is rent and the one after is taxes. So now we might get to find out which is more inevitable, death or taxes.

Her Majesty's health bulletin.

Today HM visited the V-E-T. She weighed in at 7.8 kg, her regular weight being 10.0 kg. And this isn't even the thinnest she's been. The V-E-T said "well she's pretty sick and with the history..." and that was all she wanted to say at first. So I helpfully suggested that my dog is dying and then she had plenty to say about palliative treatment. Yes, she did say "palliative". So we're there, if anyone doubted it.

She said we could do an endoscopy to look for a tumour but that would cost a fortune and it would be untreatable anyway. We could get an epinephrine nasal spray to stop the nose bleeds, but I didn't want to do that because the bleeds seem to relieve the pressure on her throat. We could try an appetite stimulant, which I agreed to although I'm not sure making HM feel hungrier is a blessing because it's not that she's not hungry, she just can't eat. But we can try. And we could try prednisone which "in our older dogs with tumours it sometimes helps relieve the inflammation and might buy her a couple months." But I didn't go with that because a couple more months of starvation doesn't seem like a blessing either.

Then I asked the V-E-T what to look for to know when to put her down and how much it would cost and she asked if I "wanted to go ahead with that today". WTF are you crazy???? Get away from my dog!! So now I'm wondering whether she was just responding to me or whether she said that because it seemed like an appropriate course of action to her for today. I know my cats' old vet would always refuse to put down an animal that she didn't think was sick enough.

Anyway. The moral is, euthanasia will cost $110, cremation $195, plus tax. Of course she can't give a timeline but the concept of "a couple months" was introduced.

But then HM walked all the way back home on her own feet, 16 minutes in the slush and ice on Pembina Highway, and seemed to think it was a grand old time (which makes one of us). There's STILL still life in the old dog yet.

Harassment complaint #4 in 3... 2... 1...

Those last three hours of the weekend... when you should be sleeping but you can't because if you go to sleep, the next thing you'll know is you have to go to work.

My Urdu grammar came in the mail! And no one even stole it! MashaAllah!

Very thawing. Such wet. Wow.

A vendor took their preauthorized debit out of my account twice on Friday, putting my account in overdraft. It's the weekend, so it hasn't been reversed yet. I called them, they said they "thought they had fixed the mistake" and will reimburse the NSF charge if I bring my bank statement showing the NSF charge. But the payment hasn't been reversed because, you know, weekend, so the NSF charge won't be posted until late today. I called the bank, they said they'll reverse the NSF charge but it will take a) 1 to 2 business days and b) 2 to 4 business days. If I had staid on the phone longer I'm sure it would be two weeks. So the moral is, it will be Friday before I get my money back. Fuck I hate all these cunts. And I haven't even left the house yet today.

Here is the problem. Either you care what people think of you, and you should act so that you like what they think of you; or you don't. Either way there is no reason to bitch about what others think of you, and you're boring Facebook with your grandiose declarations. That's pretty much the problem.

Wake up to help the dog. Look at time on the stove. "Great, I can still sleep one more hour." Go back to bed. Alarm goes off. Fuck you, time change.

In Russia, on March 8th, men buy flowers and hand them to random women on the street. Then the women have parties. Among themselves. With no men. In the rich world, on March 8th, everybody bitches and moans about how rotten women have it and what assholes men are.

And that is why every year on March 8th, I wish I was in Russia again.

And you know what else? When the cable got cut off, the bitch roommate decided to extend an olive branch by paying the bill... but then deducted it from her rent. But now she figures we're best friends so she's back to making noise, getting into my stuff all the time, leaving garbage in the house instead of the garbage... FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUhhh... For sure she's gonna start smoking in the house again, too.

You know what? For the rest of this shift no one knows where I should be or what I should be doing. I could just sit in the back office and watch cricket.

I do wish the guy for whom I'm covering had taught me how to kill 8 hours on Friday.

I've never in my life cut work, for any reason. I miss work if I or (more likely) Her Majesty are at death's door. So I'm not gonna call in sick tonight and stay home to watch the final. No, I will not. And that's really a shame cause my boss would be pretty screwed if I did (long story).

Her Majesty seems to approve of the new blender. The new blender does not seem to approve of me trying to blend a gallon of dog food with only a cup of milk. Hmmmm... I think in the future it might be easier to freeze the food whole, then blend one cup of food with one cup of milk just before use.

I'm gonna hazard a guess that whoever installed the windows and doors either didn't put any gasket or didn't overlap it properly.

Oh good. North wind. I suppose we'll get more snow.

What I need is some Sangakkara batting videos. That's nice and soothing. Or just some reds.

It's one thing that the dog is sick and another that she's completely insufferable much of the time. Some days she's just one more fucking cunt making my life difficult and I want to get away from her and all the other assholes.

You know what funny? The only people I've ever heard say that women or girls can't do X or Y are the ones who are making melodramatic announcement about how they can. Way to blame your insecurities on people who mind their own business, bitches.

K I know I haven't slept much but I'm pretty sure the computer isn't supposed to quote antifreeze in cents per square foot.

I think I slept 5 hours but I can't swear to it. Good thing I get to spend all week sitting at a desk.

I haven't been singing at all because I've been stressed, so at my voice lesson I showed my teacher my Urdu song, because it's not technical. And she heard exactly what I heard, that the rest of you probably would never have heard. I think we classical singers sing more to impress each other than for the rest of you's benefit.

I really must learn Urdu faster. I'm missing out on all the cricket jokes.

Wow, Lent tomorrow already? Ouch. I think I'll give up watching cricket. On my phone. At work. Outside designated rest periods.

(Bathroom counts as a designated rest period, right?)

Her Majesty evidently had a rough night. Then she had Cheese Whiz for breakfast. And now she's sneezing blood again. But before that I was having a really good day.

Sitting on the bus, driving past the gas stations that just went up 13 cents. Hell's yes.

Bad news: the dog had a massive sneezing fit. Good news: no blood.

Including citations in the text and then not listing the reference in the bibliography. That's a cute trick. Not.

Her Majesty's health bulletin: HM is still alive, thanks be to God. I wasn't sure I'd see her again if I had gone to New York. She's enjoying her soup, but less than a can a day, and occasional solid food. First thing on payday I'm buying a blender and making her steak-and-egg smoothies. She has already lost a good deal of the weight she had just regained. Sigh... But she's still happy to go out in the yard on warm days, so hopefully, if last year was any indication, this is our last cold spell and now we're gonna see some warming.

That is all.

I learned a new word. "Drupe". Apricots are drupes. Cherries are drupelets. Who knew?

K. My brain has this thing where if it finds something interesting, it latches on to it and doesn't let go until it's found out EVERY interesting thing about it. I knew that. But even so, it suddenly strikes me as somewhat odd that a year ago I could only just find Pakistan on the map, and now I know how many goats they have.

One could make such excellent cheesecake with fresh goat cheese, cherries and apricots.

WHY does my dog hate cricket so? She was out just two hours ago, decides to pee on the rug anyway. She's always insufferable when I watch a big game.

I need servants when I watch cricket. No time to make my own coffee.

Me on the phone with the cable company: Can you downgrade our TV service to the cheapest possible package?

Cable guy: You already have the cheapest possible package. But I can remove Jets TV. (Ed: Jets are Winnipeg's crappy hockey team.)

Me: Oh yeah, remove that. Jets are useless.

Cable guy: No, I hear they're playing quite well this year.

Me: They play HOCKEY. They're useless. Get rid of them.

Cable guy: You don't follow hockey?

Me: I follow cricket.

Cable guy: OMG me too!!! What team?

Me: Pakistan. You?

Cable guy: England.

Me: How can you??? They're evil.

Cable guy: Well, I can't deny that. But I'm Irish.

Me: You're IRISH and you cheer for England? Traitor!

Cable guy: But I lived in England for a long time. They had food other than potatoes.

Me: Good day, sir.

Internet service back! Great, now I don't have to be productive anymore.