With every sinful bone.

Tonight we went to see Relient K + Switchfoot at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. They said it was the biggest show of the tour (venuewise/crowd size) and proceeded to roll out the most incredible show yet!

The venue is beautiful. They fixed the sound instantly after the first song seemed very overly bassy. The attendants were helpful, parking easy, bathrooms plentiful, they had food, spread out merch stands and lots of light. It was general seating so we sat smack-dab in the centre.

And I took my first deep breath of the night. Made it.

Relient K has only played a scant number of shows in Canada ever so I battled the flu and a huge snowstorm to get there. So glad I did.

I didn't bring my hearing aids either. I don't need them at shows. I can't hear some of the between-song banter but I don't find it's been a problem. I'm going to soak it all up while I can.

So worth it. So, so worth it.

They played Deathbed, guys. I cried through the whole thing while I sang along. It was beautiful. Matt played it on the piano and Jon came out to sing the part of Jesus at the end even! They also played almost everything else I love. I don't know how they breathe for all the words in the songs. They were funny and charming and sweet and freaking amazing. Matt Thiessen's hair is a ringer for Lochlan's. I've never seen another curly redhead in person with the big curls like that. Deathbed wasn't my favorite moment though, I think it was a cross between Boomerang and Empty House, which is a little hard to get used to on the album but then live is incredible. Just incredible. And a few times the crowd seemed to surprise them, starting a clap or a singalong and they looked so genuinely thrilled it was touching. They are the modern day Simon & Garfunkel. I'm sure of it.

Then a break. I tried not to yawn. Holy. Two shows in six days. I'm not good at this. I'm getting old.

Lights went out again. YES.

This was my fifth Switchfoot show. It's a record! Most times I've seen a band live (sorry Benjamin) but I don't think I'd want to miss them if they came.

So much more polished than a decade ago for our first show of theirs at the Garrick. That first show was a lifetime ago for me, and probably for them too. They didn't have a setup, just their instruments and their heart. They've gotten bigger each time since. Now they have a super high-tech light show, video monitors and a perfectly timed professional show that's heading into U2 territory at this stage of their trajectory. Wow. Most of the songs they played came from the new album, Where The Light Shines Through (Matt came out to join Jon for Live it Well!) and still they threw in some great surprises from yesteryear like Gone and Love Alone Is Worth the Fight. They did an epic acoustic Hello Hurricane around a single mike. I don't cry like a baby when they sing Dare You To Move finally. Took a lot of shows for that to happen.

I got an awesome Burn Brighter Than the Dawn t-shirt. I also got myself the coveted Relient K Blue Jays shirt.

What a great night. Thank you to both Switchfoot and Relient K for becoming a surprising but welcome soundtrack to a life I thought I should maybe drown out with noise but now instead I want to listen even harder than before. While I still can.

Good news.

This morning. THIS MORNING. 

Ruth got accepted to university!

MY KID. LOCH'S KID. 

I'm so proud. Especially after we forgot to remind her to add her academic awards to her resume. Sigh. Guess with the honour roll it's overkill but WHATEVER I'M PROUD.

So proud. 

Sorry, not sorry. I lay in bed most of the day watching Stop A Douchebag on Youtube and eating grapes until I felt sick so I have nothing to report.

Purple laver + grey cloud.

Lochlan said I smelled like a perpetual blend of smoked sea salt and bulletproof coffee with an undercurrent of lilacs. He said I did good, but he's happy I'm home and we slept hard last night on the giant hockey-arena sized bed, looped in against Ben, a rescue ship on a stormy sea if ever there was one, which is somehow surprising in light of Ben's long history as the sweetest, meanest dry drunk you ever met. He's mellowed beyond the pale in the past few years though. Probably because of the stress of being with me. Or maybe just because they're all hitting that fifth decade one by one and it's like a switch being flicked sometimes and then other times you can see the indignant teenage stubbornness flare up and flame out in a whoosh. It's still there. It's still them.

I know why I smelled strange, I spent hours on the beach yesterday. It reeked of seaweed and petrichor and I love it so I stayed. They had to pull me away physically (it happens sometimes) and then as soon as I could get away again I went back and finally Lochlan came back down with one of the big lanterns because it was almost dinner time and getting dark.

Want me to bring the sleeping bags? He laughed.

Can we??? Thought the rest of my dreams were going to come true for a minute there.

No, Peanut. It's going to drop to the minuses tonight. You thought you were cold last night, you'd never make it. 

I'm never cold with Lochlan. Ever. He is fire incarnate.

I smile at him and somehow he knows what I'm thinking.

Come on peanut. Let's go up. 

After dinner Ben appeared and didn't go back downstairs and at ten-thirty sharp we went up to bed. I kept looking at him, a stranger who rarely shows his face before the waning hours, a night owl in a house full of reluctant morning people. An enigma.

Thought you might need me, he shrugged. Also since you weren't here last night. Lochlan and I have decided we're in love. He smiles dramatically.

I look at Lochlan and he nods. We'll see if we still have room for you. 

I stand there waiting until they're both in and Ben turns the light out and I stand there in the dark. What if they're serious? What if I lost my place?

Then Ben turns the light back on and says, Get in here, Bee. You know what Loch and I have is superficial. It's all based on looks. 

What about me? Isn't that based on looks too?

There's not enough of you to look at. Too small! And he laughs and turns off the light again once I've climbed over Lochlan to take my place as monkey in the middle. Funny how we increased the size of the bed so much and I still have no room.

Your hair smells weird. 

It's the beach. 

Nothing ever changes, Peanut.

Good.

Woke up in Sweden. Send the plane.

(It actually stands for this: Please Try Something Different.)

When I opened my eyes from the latest coma (we don't call it sleep when it's drugs any more than you call it rainshine when it's sun), there are the hemlocks peeking down at me through rainwashed skylights. There is dark grey everything and there is my unintentional but somewhat mostly welcome (except when he isn't) new/old boyfriend (who may or may not be the devil) with breakfast in bed for me.

He told me I slept adorably. I was cold so I put on my Hello Kitty pajamas and curled right in against him before realizing that I probably played right into his deeply buried fetishes without even trying.

Not sure if you ever noticed his dresscode rules? His preferences for me being so specific? I have to dress up. Very high heels. Very sophisticated clothing. He likes my hair above my shoulders (it's. almost. touching. them. finally.) and prefers our time together to be mostly formal activities or very very extreme adult ones.

Why?

Because child-Bridget excites the fuck of him and I don't want to awaken that monster. I think he has a hard enough time with it as it is and so he has all these rules to keep himself in check and protect me too.

God forbid I show up in jeans and a t-shirt with a long braid and Oreo crumbs in my teeth.

God help me if I wake up in pink pajamas.

God save the Queen? Fuck that. Save the princess instead. For once.

But he seems like he's in control and he has a tray with coffee and lemon bread and blueberries so we make short work of it and then I point out I have to get going.

Thank you, Caleb says to me.

I told you I can stay a couple times a month if-

Not for that. For being comfortable enough to be yourself (I ain't the girl in the stilettos. I ain't anything, actually.). I'm working on things. (Oh, he knows exactly what is wrong with him.)

I nod. Suddenly I feel like it might be difficult to leave.

Go before I keep you, he whispers.

And I'm gone.

Dinner and a kick-ass show.

(For all of the alarmist emailers: the pills can reduce anxiety and regulate sleep. If I can do those two things in my life I'm fucking gold. For the rest of you? You're swell. Thank you for coming.)

In at two last night, naked and makeup-free and fed (not in that order, mind you) and in bed by three. Far too late with a busy week ahead but also a whole lot of rare fun. We had an oddly smooth evening, with a whole host of luck (last parking spot in our usual lot, last table in our favorite pub, a perfect view in the ballroom (for the Ascot Royals and Big Wreck!), too many drinks though it didn't affect a thing, no lineups, no sound issues, no fights. No weirdos. No glitches. Just fun. And my eyeliner stayed sharp all night (thank you to Kat Von D). My lipstick did not (F-you, Dior). Not in the least but I threw it in at the last minute and had I been smart I would have used one of my twelve hour workhorse reds (like duh, Kat Von D liquid or my almost-gone Lorac but no. So yeah. Not so polished so I just pretended I did a nude lip on purpose. Honestly? No one fucking cares except everyone loves my blue-red matte lips when I bother so there's that. 

Boys are weird. They're like 'you don't need makeup' and then when I wear some they're all 'hey girl'. 

LOL

I'm so tired. 

Tonight I'm going to bed at eight.

Maybe seven. 

Meh.

Fell asleep in the hot tub last night. I was reading and I felt my eyes get heavy and I put my head down on my hand against the side and just closed my eyes for a minute and Jacob swam up into my face and screamed at me when I went under. I surfaced with a shout of my own and looked around in the dark.

Okay, so I am crazy.

Also sometimes the narcolepsy gets bad. It seems more related to mental than physical things so when I feel stressed I check out faster and more frequently.

The doctor said it's probably a sign for me to slow down. I told him if I slow down any more I'll run at bullet time and look like a flipbook from afar.

He prescribed Ativans, Ambiens and something else that starts with A that I already forgot. Great. Zombie spring. I get to dole out my own comas instead of Lochlan holding all the cards, or in this case, all the pills.

But I can't take anything right now. I'm making lasagna and salad for dinner and then I'm supposed to go to a thing that STARTS at ten-thirty pm. Masochism at it's finest. Hope my eyeliner and my bra hold up. I hate both, truly I do.

Edit: Alprazolam! This one sounds like fun.

Two.

Lunch was leftover macaroni and cheese with cut-up hotdogs and forbidden glasses of pop. We ate outside in the sun (heat lamp on above us) and smiled at each other. Lochlan kept smiling into the sky and then he'd smile back at me and I burst out laughing finally for his funny faces.

What?

This. This is nice.

Yup. It is.

To see her was to love her. Or something.

We had a full house last night for Burns Night. Didn't have haggis but we did have bagpipes (I love Ben. Have I mentioned this?) and a few of us (not naming any names *cough* BRIDGET *cough*) had far too much Scotch whisky and should have gone to bed long before it was unreasonable.

Batman told me in confidence that he doesn't know me. All he knows is that he made a grab for a brass ring in the shape of a girl and what he wound up with exceeded his wildest dreams and also disappointed him beyond belief.

I don't know about you but yes, after hearing that I started drinking from two glasses at once. It's always lovely to here that you've disappointed someone. You know, beyond their wildest dreams. What do you even say to that? Thank you? 

You drink.

He clarified that he thought we would have a relationship past what we have now. Instead he is shelter in a storm. By choice. He keeps close in case I need him. Maybe he's hoping he'll be the rebound guy someday but outward he admits only to feeling gratified that I trust him and welcomes my attention when he gets it.

It was formal and I shut him up by pouring him another.

Eventually he left and Caleb said Godspeed as he went out the door.

Well, there's a word. 

What do you mean, Neamhchiontach?

Sam is smiling. Oh noes, he says. Here she goes.

What? My brain is tilting. I wonder what speed God travels at. Fast-forward? Supersonic? Or maybe it's slow-motion. God-speed. More righteous than regular speed! Oh! I want to learn this! Then I can whip around at Godspeed and make everyone happy faster. Except Batman. I think he resents the hell out of me. 

Bridget, you're losing it. 

Never found it, actually. Is there an opposite to Godspeed? Like Devilslow? Well, that makes perfect sense come to think of it-

You're cut off and you're going to bed. Lochlan's almost as drunk as I am. Think I'm bad? Wait until HE starts talking. Say goodnight, Bridget. 

Goodnight, Bridget. And Godspeed! 

Shouting into the void.

I spent all morning signing things. Listening to things. Watching things transpire. My baby lawyerlings were well-organized and knew to bring me coffee with a quarter teaspoon of plain white sugar and a drop of cream every couple of hours. They knew to take all my weird-coloured pens away from me before we started and they physically winced when they heard of the interest lost should we cash out early*.

*(Three times I opted not to cash out early because honestly it isn't worth the loss and I can wait. The paperwork is drawn and dated, and it'll be ready to invoke the day certain things come due.)

(I can overrule Batman.)

They brought me a sandwich for an early lunch break. It was not a Monte Cristo but it was good anyway. There was a pickle with it. More coffee and as I watch Caleb sign things and talk to his brokerage and banking advisors it occurs to me that he's aged more in the past five months (since the wedding) then the past thirty years and I make a mental note to ask him to come to dinner.

After lunch I sign some more things. Then finally we're finished. They have a list for me. Today's transfers and the list of those to come, plus several ventures that haven't come to fruition yet but will soon and those are mine too. Caleb also got a raft of statements after the fact and in the car, I asked if I could see them.

Why, Bridget? He hands it all over, somewhat wearily. It isn't defeat, maybe it's just resignation in his manner that's making him seem far older than his years today.

I want to make sure you kept your full share so I don't wind up having to be your sugar momma. 

He's amused. Speaking of which, there are precious few ways in which I'll be able to fulfill that role after today. 

You'll have to pay me in affection, then. 

Something tells me that's worth more to you than everything we put down on paper today.

It is. You should know this by now, Diabhal.

The smile did not leave his face the whole way home. Maybe he (after all this) puts his values on the same way I do each morning, one leg at a time.