Embracing the nausea.

That's my new plan, embracing the nausea. The theory behind it is based on my experience with hiccups. When I was younger and I would get the hiccups often, I tried all sorts of remedies: eating a teaspoon of peanut butter, holding my breath, drinking from the opposite side of a glass of water, etc. Eventually, I settled on my own method, which was embracing the hiccups. After a hiccup, I would tell myself "that was great, I love hiccups, I can't wait for the next hiccup", and so forth. Eventually, or at least it seemed to me, the hiccups would go away. Stupid hiccups fall for the ol'reverse psychology every time.

So now, I'm trying to apply this practice to the 24-hour nausea I've been experiencing for the past week or so. I don't know who the ass face that coined the term "morning sickness" was, but my sickness is anything but restricted to the a.m.. Unfortunately, the nausea doesn't seem fooled by my clever methods. I guess nausea is just less gullible than hiccups. And it's also more of a jerk. It made me puke crackers and water at work on Monday morning. And it has made me call in sick, again, today. Apparently nausea wants me to lose my job so I can spend all my time enjoying its sickening company.

When I haven't been puking, thinking about puking, or trying not to puke, I've been busy googling other morning sickness tricks. None of them have worked. Awesome. But my life isn't all about puke, even though it feels like it most of the time. We found out that we got into one of the co-ops in Port Moody that we had applied for. Not the fancy one with the three bedrooms, full basement, and other perks--but another one in a very nice forested setting. It's only two bedrooms, but that's one more than we have now, so we're movin' on up. The people seem really nice, and we'll have our own garden and washer and dryer and other luxuries we aren't accustomed to having been living in the Vancouver shoe-box condo market for so long.

This past weekend we went out to Penticton, and I survived my first alcohol-free trip to a beer garden. It was strange. Luckily, the nausea helped to make the beer less tempting. Good'ol nausea, always looking out for me. The beer garden was a part of the Elvis festival in Penticton, funny how going to an Elvis festival seemed like it would be really amusing when we planned it a couple of months ago, but turned out to be so much less amusing without the benefit of alcohol. Although, to be fair, even without the accompaniment of crappy draft beer, I was able to laugh at the sight of the sweaty Elvis impersonator eating mini-donuts in the extreme heat behind the port-a-potties in a park in Penticton. The King is dead, long live the people who pretend to be the King at low-budget Canadian summer festivals.