insomnia

This story was originally published as a Facebook note on the morning of December 13, 2007.

A little comedic piece I started at approximately 3am yesterday morning...

10 things to do when you’re awake for no good reason in the middle of the night.

1. Lie in your bed in the dark, worrying about absolutely everything – from the woeful state of your bank account to the war in Iraq. This is an especially cheerful old-school pastime that is bound to entertain you for several hours.

2. Watch YouTube. (I would tell you to watch TV, but I don’t own one myself, and I’m going for a vérité feel in this piece).

YouTube has the added “really wake you up” benefit of requiring user-generated search-parameter input (i.e. you have to type words into the search field) – guaranteed to keep enough of your neurons firing to preclude drowsiness until at least 6am.

Another value-added perk of YouTube-watching is the ability to find several inane videos that you can then forward to all your Facebook friends.* (Yay FunWall and SuperWall!)

(*Warning: excessive use of this entertaining Wall-posting feature will quickly result in the LOSS of all your Facebook friends.)

3. While we’re on the subject of Facebook: It just so happens that FB is probably THE supreme insomniac diversion.

Start by spending an hour or two manually searching for long-lost friends who fell through your “Friend Finder” cracks.

Then browse a few hundred groups looking for ones you might like to join. Try to figure out if Facebook has a limit to the number of groups you can join. (It does. And yes, you may consider that a dare.)

Troll your friends’ Fun- and SuperWalls for annoying chain letters, to forward to all the friends who haven’t already dropped you.

Play your next move in Scrabulous. Then start a bunch of new Scrabulous games when you realize that no one else is going to be playing their moves anytime soon. Try to figure out if there’s a limit to the number of Scrabulous games that you can have going at any given time...

5. Plow your driveway of newly fallen snow. I did not make that up. There is actually some f*cking idiot running a snowblower outside my window as I write this.

(Really. And it is 330am.)

This definitely falls under the “misery loves company” category of midnight diversions.

(I’m imagining a little “Misery” of my own right now – something along the lines of a Kathy Bates scene...)

6. Eat. Forget anything you’ve ever heard about how consuming food in the middle of the night really packs on the pounds. I’m here to reassure you that food eaten between the hours of 2 and 5am has absolutely no calories.

Resist the urge to try new flavour combinations, however. Dipping those Ruffles potato chips into that half-empty jar of crunchy peanut butter is a recipe for gastric disaster. You’re already going to feel crushingly sleep-deprived at work later this morning. No need to add indigestion to the list of complaints.

7. Wake and dial.

This is a cheerful variation of the classic “drink and dial” activity – with the added advantage of sobriety.

Better yet, why not begin a fruitful career as a prank caller? Dial some random numbers and ask for their favorite sleep tips. Just be sure to press *67 first.

(I am currently giggling uncontrollably at the thought of calling up some poor schmuck in the middle of the night. Maybe sleep deprivation is not unlike being drunk, after all.)

8. Clean your apartment.You know it never gets done during daylight hours – so why not take advantage of this “found time”? Running the vacuum is guaranteed to endear you to your roommates and/or adjacent neighbours. (See item 5 on plowing your driveway, above.)

9. Experiment with “white noise”.

This is an especially worthwhile endeavor if you share a bed with someone who is still asleep – and snoring. Turn on the TV to a holding pattern or an impossibly high channel. Set your clock radio between stations. Lug that floor fan up from the basement and play with the speed settings.

How much white noise does it take to truly drown out the sound of a person snoring? And what kind of funky distorted noises can a snoring person make when a floor fan is positioned six inches from their face? On "high"? Oops! Did your companion wake up? Guess they’re not snoring now…

10. Write a list of 10 things to do when you’re awake for no good reason in the middle of the night. (Skip number four, and when people ask, say: "Whadya expect? It was the middle of the night! I was sleep deprived, okay?")

It won’t help you get back to sleep, but it sure is entertaining. Just don’t let your boss see the list – he or she doesn’t need to know much creative energy you’re pouring into useless pursuits, rather than channeling it into your job.

(If you’re a freelance writer, on the other hand, you have just come up with a new article to sell – which could be an effective solution to the bank account situation mentioned in item 1.)

I’ll close with my grandmother’s favorite bedtime mantra: 'Night 'night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.

(As a child I never knew what the hell a bedbug was. Apparently there is now a North-American resurgence of bedbug infestations, though. I just did a Google search on the subject of bedbugs. I do not recommend this as a pleasant insomnia-related activity.)

©2007 Michelle Lynne Goodfellow

violets and fireflies

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Funny - even though I'm a visual artist, sometimes I'd rather write.

I was looking through my photos for something to put in the top right corner of this blog, and came across a shot of violets in a wooded area near the Thames River in London, Ontario. (I once had an English friend who howled with laughter every time I reminded him that the Canadian London had its own Thames. I guess he found that charmingly colonial.)

The photograph is nothing special, but the violets are - to me, anyhow. They're part of a magical story that suddenly seems worth spending a thousand words on...

I recently had an absolutely beautiful (and all-too-brief) e-mail relationship with a new friend. In his very first letter to me, he described seeing a valley full of fireflies near his home a few nights earlier. His story brought back a forgotten memory (of mine) from several years ago.

I was working as a live-in domestic near the university in London, Ontario. There's an area of paths along the river that had become my respite at the end of each workday. I loved being surrounded by green - wildflowers and grasses up to my knees, low-hanging branches brushing my head, and the gothic canopy high above. This was home. Sanctuary.

One evening I found myself cycling rapidly along the paths - not to enjoy the trees, but to get home after an evening at a friend's - in the shortest possible time before complete darkness fell. I'd forgotten my bicycle light (or maybe I just wasn't expecting to be out so late), and didn't want to get caught on the roads without one.

My head was bent low as I pedalled furiously, and I hardly noticed the scenery as I sped by. I didn't have time for pleasure that night.

It was getting so dark under the trees that I could hardly see, and I thought my mind was playing tricks on me when flashing lights appeared in corners of my eyes. I looked up, and nearly fell off my bike in amazement. The flashes were fireflies - hundreds and hundreds of them - dancing around a small clearing.

I stopped in shock. And awe. Something in my chest loosened, and I started to laugh with delight. In that moment I understood where the legends of fairies had come from.

For I was in a fairyland. My path cut straight through the middle of the clearing, and I was surrounded by lights that blinked on and off, continually moving all around me. I didn't want to leave - couldn't tear myself away. Fuck the bike light - I'd walk the rest of the way home if I had to.

(How often do we get to be part of a miracle?)

~

The following spring I was walking along a parallel path - this one unpaved and on the far edge of the clearing, closer to the river. Again my head was bent low, watching my feet avoid tree roots. For weeks I had seen green things sprouting from dead brown earth. Day after day the sprouts grew taller and taller, and thickened with leaves.

One day I was surprised by purple.

Violets! A sea of them! (I hadn't known the green sprouts were violets!)

The previous summer when I'd first seen the clearing there had been no violets (or so I thought) - just phlox, and other tall wildflowers, and masses of wild grapevines that crawled over everything. But during the winter those had all disappeared, and now the first spring green was - violets.

I knelt down to examine their delicate beauty. I knew an Italian aria about violets - the blossoms were supposed to smell lovely. I leaned over and sniffed - nothing. But their hundreds of cheerful faces smiling at sun made me laugh. Spring was here. The ground was warming. The earth was coming back to life.

And in a flash my mind made one of those poetic connections that induces shivers.

The violets would give birth to the fireflies.

a successful query

In May of 1998 I was walking along a downtown street in London, Ontario, and I passed a man painting a hand-lettered sign on the window of a local delicatessen. I was fascinated by his skill, so I stopped to talk to him, and eventually asked if he would agree to be interviewed for a magazine profile.

I had never written for London Magazine (now London City Life Magazine), but thought the story would be perfect for their readership. The magazine often featured short articles on local personalities. This was my query to the editor:

"Do you do that by hand?"

That's the question London sign painter Tom Denomme is most often asked while working on a new creation.

You're probably familiar with his work; Denomme is responsible for such notable exteriors as the Rockwater Brewing Company mural and the graphics outside the Website Cafe.

I caught up with Denomme while he was working on the window lettering for the Piazza Deli at the Market Tower downtown. And yes, he does it by hand.

According to Denomme, sign painting is a dying art. Most sign companies use vinyl cutouts instead of labour-intensive hand-lettering.

And it's an art that Denomme is dying to pass along to the next generation of artisans...

My query was successful. The editor bought my story, and it was published in October 1998. Here's the final copy:

Watching London graphic designer Tom Denomme at work on a new hand-lettered window sign is pure magic. A few swipes of grease pencil provide a rough outline; then, with the ease of a master, Denomme paints like a great jazz musician plays: in brilliant colour, improvising as he goes, and with one eye constantly on the larger whole.

Denomme resists being known as a sign painter; the bulk of his work consists of creating print logos and menu designs for local restaurants. But he prides himself on being able to offer a complete design package to his clients, and as a result, his hand-painted signs and murals, splashed across the walls and windows of restaurants and bars across southwestern Ontario, are often the most visible testament to his phenomenal talent.

He's responsible for the huge mural outside the Rockwater Brewing Co. in downtown London; he's also done exterior or interior graphic work for a number of local establishments, including Website The VR Cafe, Famous Jake's and Joey's Crabshack, Joe Kool's, Jim Bob Ray's, Piazza, and Caribou Creek.

Denomme started hand-lettering signs while still in high school. After completing the two-year art program at Beal, he did stints as a window dresser for Eaton's and an illustrator for GM before turning to freelance graphic work full-time.

At 44, he practises what is probably a dying art. Computer-designed lettering and graphics have become standard in signs and displays. But he's found a niche market for the kind of quality work that he can produce. In the restaurant business, where image and atmosphere are part of what attracts customers, a hand-lettered sign or a hand-painted mural provides the hint of nostalgia or old-world charm that appeals to Denomme's clientele.

And Denomme loves his job. "When you can sit down with someone, and then take an idea out of their head and make it real, that's the greatest thing."

copyright 1998, Michelle Lynne Goodfellow

a sample flyer

This is from the flyer for my own professional organizing business:

imagine your life.

organized.

basement. garage. closets. kitchen. home office. time management. wardrobe consulting. home staging. seniors. eco-friendly home consulting. workshops, seminars, and presentations.

(and with this flyer, enjoy a free* second hour of organizing)

imagine.

michelle lynne goodfellow, BSc, BA, is a home economics graduate with majors in clothing, textiles and design, fine arts, and film studies.

for eight years she was owner-operator of an eco-friendly home cleaning business in london, ontario.

give yourself the gift of freedom; hire a professional organizer.

free initial home consultation.

evening and weekend hours available.

member of Professional Organizers in Canada.
http://www.organizersincanada.com/

*$65 value. some restrictions apply.

copyright 2006, Michelle Lynne Goodfellow