A follow up

I’m feeling much better after the exciting Friday I had. I still get bouts of headachey nausea, but not nearly as bad. I also went to the doctor last night so ICBC can have some evidence to my hurtz, and I’m to take 400mg of ibuprofen four times a day, as well as do back and neck muscle exercises at least three times a day, and I have a referral for physiotherapy.

How can being rear-ended be so destructive?

If I hadn’t been in the back seat when it happened, I doubt I’d be as hurt. I wouldn’t have hit my head, I imagine, and just got whiplash.

Back seats are dangerous, man.

In other news, I think I got an idea for my next tattoo. I have what I lovingly refer to as a quarter sleeve – I have a tattoo covering the underside of one arm – and I want it to one day be a full sleeve. This new tattoo idea (well, I actually had a tattoo idea a few months ago, but I’m putting off getting it because it’d be a rib tattoo, and I want kids and non-stretched ink) is inspired by my family. A while ago, my mother showed me a coaster we have of the Welsh red dragon surrounded by Celtic knots, with the words Y Ddraig Goch Ddyry Cychwyn (fuck Welsh, amirite? so many consonants) and using the most magnificent Google translator, I found out what it means. (I knew ddraig meant dragon, bragging rights here)

The red dragon roars


So apparently this is my family crest, according to my mother (though I’m pretty sure it’s just a general Welsh thing). I’m a quarter Welsh, but that quarter counts a fair bit, being that it’s the paternal. I’m going to confirm this with my grandmother, and if it really is the Marshman crest, this is going on my skin, for permanent.

My God, though. I hope we were knights in the past. Celtic archers. With a motto like that, how could we not be?

This feels Game of Thronesy. Excuse me while I fangirl over that.

My Sundays are booked solid

I don’t normally watch a lot of tv. I’ll keep it on while I’m in the living room on my computer, even though I’ll usually be listening to music, only because I’m like an old person in that I like the company. Or a dog in that I like the movement. It’s nice.

When I do watch tv, it’s because Seinfeld reruns are on, or American Dad, Family Guy, Futurama, the Dating Guy, etc. I like stupid tv, as is painfully obvious.

But recently, my mother and I watched the first season of HBO’s Game of Thrones straight through twice, and when we realized season two was starting we panicked. We didn’t have HBO, know anyone close to who had HBO, and we couldn’t wait to stream or buy season 2. So, an hour before it started, we subscribed to HBO. desperation, amirite?

Season 5 of Mad Men started a few weeks ago as well. We watched it at 7, then GoT at 8, and all was well.

I really really really really really enjoy history and historical fiction; this is exemplified by my adoration of the Borgia reign in Italy at the beginning of the Renaissance. Cesare Borgia is one of my favourite historical figures, up there with Napoleon Bonaparte. So I recently downloaded the first season of the Borgias tv show (and the most beautiful French Canadian actor Francois Arnaud plays Cesare, so this is like a historical hard-on for me) and finished watching just in time for season 2 to start.

Now, my Sundays are booked. Nobody gets me on Sundays until good-tv-season is over. The Borgias at 7, GoT at 8, and Mad Men at 9 – otherwise the Borgias and Mad Men would coincide.

Cesare Borgia, Jon Snow, Don Draper. Can Sundays get any better?

The answer is no.

A resounding no.

Despite being a cardinal with a pope for a father, Cesare goes out of his way to give bedroom eyes to his sister, and pick up chicks like nobody's business.


I just reread my all-time favourite book for the 8th time recently, taking a record-breaking day and a half to finish it. Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon, and the entryway for my passion of all things Scottish. This isn’t a review – this is a “go read it now if you know what’s good for you.” Also, it’s something to post until I actually have something. Thinking of continuing an earlier short story. We’ll see.

“Let’s see,” I said counting on my fingers. “According to you, Frasers are stubborn, Campbells are sneaky, MacKenzies are charming but sly, and Grahams are stupid. What’s the Murrays’ distinguishing characteristics?”

“Ye can count on them in a fight,” said Jamie and Ian together, then laughed.

“Ye can too,” said Jamie recovering. “You just hope they’re on your side.” And both men went off into fits again.