Interviewing for my Oscar Moment

For those of you who are wondering, I still don't know who won Creative Burlington's illustrious award for literary artist of the year.  I'll find out on February 3rd.  In the meantime, they video interviewed me.  The idea is for them to have a nifty video for each of the finalists so they can be introduced Oscar-style at the fancy awards night. 

So a few days before my interview, I got a tickle in my throat.  Then William got sick too and spent three days on the couch watching tv and refusing to eat anything (he also vomited each day at precisely 6 o'clock).  It's my own fault really.  When a friend of mine (hi Natalie) came to my door and told me her kids were all snotty but could she please bring them in to play anyway, I totally let her come in and spread her germies.  Well I learned my lesson!

Anyway, yesterday I went with my Mom to the Creative Burlington office (a tiny building on Lakeshore) to have our interviews taped.  By this time I had a phlegmy cough, froggy voice, and was feeling slightly nauseous.  The lady who greeted me asked if I was "one of them or just along for the ride."  I thought to myself, if I she doesn't know me, I must not be the winner.  I should have said something witty and clever, but instead I whined "I'm one of them" like a grade-school student being forced to play dodgeball.

My Mom went first.  I watched her being filmed and she answered all the questions and looked and sounded very professional.  Next it was my turn.  My Mom left so I wouldn't be nervous. Sitting in the chair was way different than watching my Mom sit in the chair.  All the lights were on me, and each light was as bright as the sun.  I squinted for a few minutes then one of the video people "Sarah" gave me a mic to put on.  I had to feed a wire up under my shirt, and snap a battery pack to my butt.

I won't repeat the questions and answers because I'm sure you're all going to spend $65 to see the awards show and will see the finished video then. I will say that I managed to get through it all without coughing.  Huzzah! At the end of the interview I read some of my work, so they could splice that in too. We were told to prepare a minute of work, which is not quite a page of text. When you're writing a novel, even one as short as mine, one page is nothing.  But I chose a scene that would knock your socks off.  I hope the end product isn't too embarrassing.

I'm always sick when I have to be on camera.  I had a cold when I did this thing too, but everyone said I was fabulous anyway.

Anyway, I already won something: an Arts Matter T-shirt.

Happy Mail

I just received what I'm going to call fan mail, from my friend and former Ryerson classmate.  Star Trek bookmarks and Wonder Woman stationary! What more could a girl ask for?  Now I have to buy stamps so I can send some super hero snail mail.

This letter came at the perfect time.  I've been feeling a bit sorry for myself because I'm suffering from the cold that has infected half of Burlington (I suppose it could have infected the other half as well, but haven't talked to everyone in town).  Last night was a good night because I actually slept and so did Jadzia.

The night before, on the other hand, was a different story.  I was all sniffly and snory and mouth breathey and having trouble falling asleep.  As soon as I found a pontentially tolerable position, my husband (who is a light sleeper) asked me to turn over because he couldn't sleep with all my obnoxious breathing.  I tried to accomodate, but Adam eventually went to sleep in William's room.

Then Jadzia woke up screaming.  She's just as miserable as I am, with a constant stream of slime oozing from her nostrils, and an appetite for boob to soothe her sore throat.  From 4 am onward she refused to leave me alone.  She showed no interest in sleep and would not stop screaming unless she had one of my breasts shoved into her mouth.  Finally I brought her into my bedroom, where she crawled all over the place, fell off the bed, played with the clock radio, sorted the dirty laundry, and eventually fell asleep with her upper body on my bed and her legs dangling off the side.  I slept a little until 7, when William came into my room.  He leapt onto the bed, causing Jadzia to slide onto the floor, although miraculously she stayed asleep for another 2-3 minutes.  I was so exhausted I called my parents for help, but everyone was busy.

Last night was so much better (because it included sleep), and the letter in the morning's mail was enough to make the day start with smiles.

Now, who will take care of me??

When my baby was sick, I lay down with him, I gave him hugs, I cuddled him, I took him to the doctor, I gave him medicine. Now he's well enough to whip toys at the tv, to rummage through the freezer, and to find and play with all the most dangerous items in the kitchen drawers. Meanwhile, my brain has liquified and is coming out through my nose.

Welcome to Canada Carol and Derek!

Yesterday Mr. William spent the day hanging out with his Omi, while I went to Toronto and played tourist with Scottish Carol and her husband Derek. Now I know Toronto just about as well as the next Burlingtonian (or less) so I really wasn't much of a guide. I took them to 401 Richmond (where the art galleries are, one of my fave Toronto destinations especially since it doesn't cost anything) and we spent most of the day wandering the streets. Carol says the city is "very clean" but I think that has more to do with the fact that it was so sunny yesterday that everything seemed to be shining. I hope we have this nice weather the whole two weeks they're here, then Carol and Derek can tell the folks back home in Scotland that Canada is the perfect tropical destination. Incidentally I learned that Scotland really doesn't have fire hydrants, who knew?

In other news, my son has been kind enough to share his cold germs with me, so last night I had a hard time getting to sleep as my nose was running like Niagara Falls on speed. When I finally got to sleep (because my nostrils stopped dripping and just clogged themselves) my darling husband woke me up to offer me nasal spray. It seems my predicament caused me to "make weird noises" that prevented my hubby from sleeping.

Germy Daddy

Every Tuesday William and I walk to the Ontario Early Years Centre where a nurse whose name I forget does a talk on something. Last week's topic was making your own baby food. The week before that, sun safety and West Nile virus. I don't know what the topic is today, but we probably won't go.

Why not? William's germy Daddy has given us both colds. At least, I have a cold. It's hard to tell if William is suffering from a sore throat like the rest of us, or just crying because he's a baby. Whatever, the point is I don't think it would be very nice to spread the germs to the other Mom's and babies.

So what do I do with myself? I know not. Perhaps I'll peruse the book on sign language that I got at the Salsa shower. So far I learned that I've been doing things all wrong. For one thing, I was incorrectly doing the sign for change. For another, the signs for "milk" and "change", while practical, are no fun for babies. Babies are more likely to learn words and signs for things that they can't express by crying. Like "airplane" or "ceiling fan". Or so says the book.

Another obstacle to this signing business is that I need to have two extra arms grafted to my body. I wonder how those who are truly hearing impaired hold their children and talk to them at the same time. Maybe I'll figure this out by the time he's six-months old (the optimum age for starting to sign according to the book). At least this sore throat will be gone by then.

Hopefully this cold will be gone by Thursday so William will be healthy enough to get his first shots. (Although, postponing such scariness can't be too bad).