Still Don't Like Christmas

I understand that some people adore Christmas and that's fine; just stay the hell away from me and try to get it through your head that I am not one of you. Every year I go through the same feelings of dread simply because it seems that no matter what I do, no matter what gifts I purchase, nothing is ever good enough. More specifically: I am not good enough.

When I was a kid, Christmas was great. My brother and I would go out with our dad and find a tree, cut it down, and laugh when Mom said it was too big and we wouldn't have enough ornaments for it. Then, it wasn't about the presents, although they were awesome as well. We had the same routine every year and after my parents split, it just wasn't the same. Not that I am blaming my dislike of the holidays on my parents, I am just saying their divorce was a factor as to why I am not a big fan of Christmas.

Over the years I have tried to recapture that feeling I had as a kid and guess what? Can't do it. My father is gone and my mother is married to complete asshat who can't remember my name most of the time despite being in my life for the past 25 years. I thought that by being in my new apartment and having BG by my side, things would be better this year so I invited my brother and his wife and my mother and what's-his-name over for dinner. Disaster. I will never do that again, I can tell you. I am an idiot for trying. Again.

My mom and her husband arrived before my brother and his wife so BG and I had to entertain them. I made coffee, served hors d'oeuvres, and made small talk. My mom told us all about the great time she and her husband had had the previous night at their house with the whole family. She said: 'It was so great to have the whole family together for Christmas finally. Everyone was there. It was so wonderful.' I guess she forgot that I wasn't there.

Part of me wants to laugh it off as just one of those things but deep down, I am hurt. Hurt because when I first approached my mom about having dinner on Boxing Day she agreed, but because her husband's son decided he wanted Christmas dinner they decided to have everyone over Christmas Day. I was not able to join them as I had already made plans with BG's family because I had been told that my mother wasn't going to be having dinner. So once again, I was not included and they went out of their way to make sure I would not be included.

Christmas is a hard time for me because I usually slip into a bit of a depression and this situation has not helped at all. I am upset, hurt, angry, and there is nothing I can do about it so why can't I let it go? I will tell you why. I firmly believe that if you are a shitty person, shitty things will happen to you and I want to stay connected to these people to watch it happen: specifically, my mother's husband. If anyone deserves a heaping portion of shit-on-a-stick, it's that guy.

I am tired of being the one who remembers his birthday and helps my mom plan his surprise party. His own kids don't do that, so why am I? Because I keep hoping that one day he will act like a father towards me, and that is not going to happen. He doesn't even like me. He can't remember my name most of the time when I call and he goes out his way to do things that will hurt me.

I am not his child, and I do not need his approval. I am my own person and I think that if my dad were still alive and saw what I was putting up with, he would shake his head at me. I am so strong in some ways, why am I so weak in this one? I am trying to protect my mother. I figure if I behave the way I am expected to, he will be nicer to her. Sound dumb? It is. People don't change, and I am finally realizing that no matter what I do or how many cards I send he is still going to treat her like shit. I have to accept that this is her decision and that it isn't my fault. I didn't pick him for her; she did. It's upsetting for me to hear about how he treats her but I have to remember that she chose that life for herself and has the opportunity to leave whenever she wants.

I am just tired of being the black sheep when I am the one who does all the things that kids are supposed to do. Fuck it. I am done with it all. My father is dead; I need to remember that.

I Feel Like a Bitch

One of my colleagues is very sick yet still continues to come into work. Why? She is sitting at her desk, hacking, coughing, and sneezing all over everything, and will most likely make everyone in the office ill just in time for our Christmas break. Does this sound like a rant? Good; because that's exactly what I'm about to do.

I understand that people need to work in order to get paid. I also understand that when you have used up all your sick time you might feel as though you have to come in despite the fact that you are ill. People have children and other responsibilities. I get that. What I don't get is the apparent double standard: people with kids don't usually allow their children to go to school or mingle with friends if they are ill. So why is it okay as an adult to throw that caution out the window when they are sick and go into work?

I am a healthy person. I eat properly, I get enough sleep, and I excercise. I don't get sick very often and when I do I can usually sleep it off. Seriously; ask my mother. I have been ill more often at my current job than I have been at any other job I have had. Why? Because it's a small company and my co-workers feel pressured to come into work when they are sick. So now, my co-worker is here spreading around her germs and everyone will no doubt end up sick. Plus, her constant cough is driving me mental. I want to walk over to her desk and shove a Halls down her throat so she'll shut up.

Grr. I have so much work to do and it's all editing-type stuff that requires concentration which I cannot do because of her coughing. I realize I am being ridiculous but come on. If you must be here, then take steps to at least try and quell your incessant cough.

I am totally wearing my grumpy pants today.

What Have We Here?

There were so many reasons to not get out of bed this morning. Instead, I hauled my ass out of bed, made coffee, showered, dressed, and went to work. I am sitting at my desk right now more than a little miserable to have left the warmth of my apartment. Plus, it's Friday.

Sad part is, I have so much work to do that I really should be nose-to-the-grindstone but instead I'm blogging. I find that as my workload increases, my reluctance to do said work also increases to the point where I surf the 'net and read online comics instead of actually doing what I'm being paid to do. It's the week before Christmas and although the work is still piling up, I just can't seem to get my shit together enough to do any of it. I see the emails piling up in my inbox and yet I just can't seem to find the energy to open them. I am going out of my way to not do any work at all and it's only going to get worse, I can feel it.

I am now going to build a fort out of duct tape and file folders.

Meat-filled Birthday

This year was one of the best birthdays. I had my actual birthday off and spent it with BG as he also had the day off. He made me breakfast in bed (peameal bacon and eggs) and kept refilling my coffee while I opened the gifts he bought me. Let's just say it was a very GI Joe birthday: complete dvd set of the cartoon, the 12" Storm Shadow collectible figure, the new movie on blu-ray, and a signed piece of art with my two favourite DC characters Hawkman and Hawkgirl. And that was just the beginning.

We met my mom for lunch, meandered around downtown, and went to a movie. After the movie we picked up a special order which I am not allowed to talk about because it isn't Christmas yet, but it's an awesome gift for us. We got home late and we made dinner: brussel sprouts baked in the oven with olive oil and balsamic vinegar sprinkled with salt and pepper; mashed potatoes with onions, garlic, and grated cheddar cheese; and steak. Yummy, juicy, market-fresh steak. We had a couple glasses of wine and watched 'Predator' before calling it a night.

The next day we went over to our friends' house. BG and I had planned to wear longjohns for the evening due the extreme temperature of their house. That way we would be comfortable without being overheated or naked, which apparently would have unacceptable. As soon as we walked in the house, we took off our pants and stayed in our longjohns for the night. No kidding. T&F had planned out the whole birthday dinner thing with the help of BG and R, so I was banished to the living room with a stock of frosty beverages and a couple of Vincent Price movies.

A couple hours and more than a few beverages later, I was summoned to the kitchen. I opened my awesome presents from them which included: F-made Hawkman and Hawkgirl squishy toys (yay!), a Hawkgirl statue, comics, and a zombie book. Birthday complete? Hell no, there was more. About 10 pounds more.

They made me a Jabba the Hutt out of meat. He sat on top of a bed of mashed potatoes that resembled sand, and his sidekick Salacious Crumb was nestled in his folds. Un-freaking-believable. And so very tasty. No wonder the Hutts died out: they are delicious! F made me a birthday cake that looked exactly like the Sarlacc Pit, complete with a trapped Boba Fett. I pulled him out by his feet and totally saved his life, so now Boba Fett owes me a life debt.

I had an awesome birthday full of good friends, great food, and the warmth of family. BG's family gave me gifts the following day at the family dinner, and his mother made my favourite pie: lemon merangue. I was not expecting that at all and it really floored me that they would do something like that.

I can't wait to see how Boba Fett is going to repay me.

Ahhh...There's The Other Shoe

I knew that sooner or later it would show up. I figured it would happen right around this time, too. Although I did encourage it, I still didn't think that it would hurt quite this much. I knew that I was in the wrong by staying quiet and not speaking what was in my heart, yet I still did it. I fully accept the blame for that yet I am still unsure of how it all seemed to get dropped into my lap. As far as I know, no matter who accepts how much of the blame, it still requires two people to make the situation in the first place.

I am in no way saying that I am not partially to blame; I think I covered that quite well in the preceding paragraph. I am merely stating that I am not to blame for all of it. I had to reread the response I received to an email I sent a couple of times before I was able to reply. So much of it hit home and was true yet there were parts that both shocked and offended me. In the end I managed to reply however I think I may have to dwell on this situation more before continuing. I thought that this person knew enough about me to have made a different assumption and now I am not sure how to proceed.

The past few months have been very confusing for me as I have had to navigate through various obstacles. Some obstacles were easily swatted away and others have hung on like barnacles. I had thought that I was able to deal with this situation now as I have had time to think. When I attempted to try and explain what has been happening inside my head and in my heart, I was rejected and informed of a slew of things that I had done to upset this other person.

Again, I am not shirking my responsibility here. I realize I should have made an effort to contact them sooner, but I couldn't. I honestly thought that they would recognize my silence and understand that I needed time to sort some things out and that didn't happen. That understanding was not there; whether I neglected to voice it or because they didn't recognize it doesn't matter.

I am upset because of all the people in the world, this one is the last one I ever thought would turn on me. Maybe I am exaggerating; maybe it isn't that bad but I've been sitting here reading the email over and over again and that's how it feels. It was pointed out to me that because we don't run in the same circles any betrayal of this person on my part would still be hidden and that floored me. The fact that that thought would even come up really upset me. Second time this week that someone has questioned my integrity.

I make mistakes. All the time. Sometimes, I make more than one mistake at a time. Through making mistakes I learn how other people think and I try to apply that knowledge when faced with similar situations. In this case, I misjudged badly and now I have to decide which path to take.

Where Did The Time Go, and How Can I Get it Back?

I am not going to the exam tonight. Not only do I have shitbuckets of work to do, which pays the rent and so is a bit more important than this course, I am really not prepared for it. I am not prepared to walk in and write a crappy exam just for the experience. There is too much that needs to be done in my office and I'd rather have a paycheque than a certificate of completion.

I just want my bed right now.

Either Too Stubborn or Just Too Damn Stupid

Although I have not attended class in over a month, I have decided to write the final exam next week. This is partly due to the fact that my teacher cannot assign me an incomplete mark; he can either pass me or fail me. I have decided that if I am going to fail, it will be because I attempted to write an exam that I wasn't quite prepared for and not because I gave up. I know, it sounds very Disney-ish but there you go. I have a bit of a different view of the world lately and it's kind of great.

I am finding that I am not quite so angry anymore. Things that used to set me off don't seem to bother me and I am much more tolerant of my current partner than I have been with others in the past. BG does things now that a year ago would made me molten with rage and I just smile and go about my business. Sure, I have stumbling blocks, 'quirks' as he calls them, however I find that because I am content I can finally let go of the anger that I've been carrying around for so long.

The drawback is that some of my former friends think I've lost my edge because of my new-found happiness. I think that's funny; I am much more capable of bitching someone out now that I have a firm foundation and someone behind me 100%. I don't have to worry about BG cheating on me or developing a drug habit as some of my former partners have done. Part of that is because he isn't like that and the other part is because he respects me. And he respects me because I respect myself. That's something that only comes after you've been through hell and lost everything. It's been a rough trip and a lot of people tried to hold me back but in the end I am just too stubborn to let it go after hearing that I can't do something.

Someone who used to be very close to me told me that I was much more fun to be around when I was miserable and bitter. She only wanted me around to make herself feel better because of what I was going through at the time. We would sit and talk about my situation and I stupidly thought that she actually wanted to help. Later, she would paraphrase our conversations to her friends and they would all shake their heads in sympathy, silently grateful that it wasn't happening to any of them. It just proves the point that misery loves company. I understand the concept of schadenfreude, I just don't think you should shove someone's nose in it. A bit of tact should be used.

I have so much on my plate right now: editing three magazines, my regular work, and my freelancing, that I just cannot spend time with negative people. I get enough of that at work, I don't need it when I go home or when I meet up with my friends. Although it does make for great writing fodder.

This Time You've Gone Too Far

This weekend during the housewarming party at the new place, some guy tried to gain access into my apartment. He identified himself as a representative of the property management but refused to produce identification. BG and his brothers were there and as soon as they came to the door buddy took off, saying we were being unreasonable and we need to keep it down. He also said that our neighbors had gone to him personally, as he was the building rep, and complained about the noise coming from our place. When I checked (because I do this kind of thing; I check shit out) by knocking on the doors of our neightbors both on our floor and the floor below, only one person was home and he was unaware we were having a party. And he was very upset to hear that someone had told us he complained.

Did I mention building-rep guy was wearing only boxers? Anyway, when I phoned the office this morning to complain, the woman I spoke to was appalled that this sort of thing would happen. I described the guy; she said that there was no one on staff that lives in the building except for the super. She became more agitated when I told her there were children present at the partyand they had seen him in his boxers. She assured me that it would be dealt with and told me that she was putting the information into our file. When BG spoke to our super, the super knew from the description given who it was and said he would have a word with him.

So, not only is there is a crazy cat-lady at the end of the hall who comes out of her apartment whenever she hears movement to grill the people as to where they are going and for how long, there is also a weirdo below us who like to play dress up but forgets to include pants. Colourful group of people in the building. That being said, it was a great party and it's a wonderful space and I am happy to have an apartment once again.

Just wish the apartment application had come with an info sheet on the tenants.

Losing Patience With Being Patient

Being patient is not one of my strengths. When I get an idea in my head, I want it to happen that very second and sometimes I become agitated when I am told that expecting immediate results is retarded. Like now. I am waiting for Rogers to hook up my cable and internet at my new apartment and I just texted BG to see if it's been done, knowing that it's only been five minutes since my last text asking the same thing. I will probably keep texting until I am told to stop. I just can't help myself.

I am also feeling like a bit of a failure because I had such high hopes for participating in NaNoWriMo and I completely fucked it up. I could blame work, my injury, school, homelessness, or any other number of things both real and imagined but the crux of it is that I got lazy.

There. I said it. I got lazy and let it slide, which is not normally something I would do, hence the disappointment I am feeling for not following through. This whole month has been about me just barely managing to eke by and it's only happened because along with being incredibly impatient I am also very determined. Some people might think that means that I am bull-headed, however I prefer to think of it as being strong-willed. It sounds nicer.

Did anything good come out of this horrific month? Sure, lots of things. I have a fantastic apartment that will be completely furnished as of tonight, a housewarming party coming up this weekend, a wonderful partner, fantastic friends, and a freezer full of vodka. What more could a girl ask for?

About 49, 200 words.

An Update

A lot has happened in the past few weeks. The awesome apartment I was to move into has turned out to be not-so awesome and I am on the hunt for a new place that will not entice people to try and kick in my door. My knee is healing well; although it still is not good, I can at least walk on it and take my pants off without BG having to shield his eyes from the hideous bruising. Work is incredibly busy and school is not going well because of my lack of concentration and the missed classes.

I am on the verge of moving yet still in limbo until I hear from my prospective new landlord. This is the part that I cannot stand: the waiting and the not-knowing. I am not the most patient person at the best of times and now because I am so stressed out it's even worse. Thankfully, my friends and family have gathered around me to help out with packing up two apartments, arranging to drive a cube van, and trying to find alternate homes for my cats.

Because of the situation I am heading into, I can't take them with me. Enough said. I am trying to deal with it the best way I can which means I am drinking too much and not getting enough sleep. It is the middle of November and I need to be out of both my apartments in less than 2 weeks. I don't know where I am going yet, and although I have put money down on a place there is no guarantee I will get it. I have been sleeping at BG's house and while that's good, I can't stay there indefinitely. No one minds me being there, I just feel like I am intruding.

I am frustrated, exhausted, and I need another good cry. Last week I had a meltdown and BG told me that he was surprised at how long it took before I finally broke. I am not proud of that; I think it's a bit scary that I can do that kind of thing. Anyway, I had a really good hiccupping cry while he held me and then that was it. A few tears since then, but no further breakdowns.

Of course, that could all change depending on whether or not I get this apartment.

I've Done It

I signed up for the 'write a novel in 30 days' challenge. Not sure when I am going to be able to fit writing 1700 words a day into my schedule but I plan to try. The problem is, I have no plot. I have a title, but no plot. I have a few ideas which I aim to try and flesh out before Sunday, the day this all starts, and we'll see how it goes. The main thing I am trying to do here is to get back into the routine of writing each day. Due to my injury and school and the overload at work, I haven't had much time to do what I love. Ah...yes. The injury. Since I am actually writing this at work instead of preparing a report that is due in five minutes, I will go into gory details once I get home and have access to the gross pictures of my injury.

Seriously. Really gross.

Cannot wait to show you.

Time is Fun When You're Having Flies

I have been having so much fun juggling school and work that I have neglected my blog. The trouble now is, what do I say? What do I tell you about? Should I even try?

I vote no. Clearly it wasn't important enough to jot down a few sentences, so why go to the trouble of looking for something to write about. Those in my life know what I've been doing; and anyone who isn't probably doesn't give a shit about what I do with my time.

So. What now? Do I tell you about the awesome plans I have for this weekend? Do I let on that I am fighting the mother of all flu's and I am hacking up a lung as Iwrite this? Do I go on and on about my new apartment that I am in the process of getting? What about school? Who wants to hear about my adventures in college? No one?

Didn't think so.

Let's Talk, Shall We?

Today would have been my father's birthday if he hadn't taken his own life years ago. While I am no longer angry at him for denying me the possiblility of reconciliation, I am rather put off at the mess he left behind. The mess being me.

I have struggled with the possiblility that my father didn't like me very much both as a child and later as a young adult for most of my life. Now that this possibility has been confirmed to me in countless ways by various people, all that information really does is strengthen my resolve to be a better person. I spent many years wondering why he didn't like me only to find out that it due to my gender. The idea that if I had been born a male he might have accepted me just breaks my heart and at this point in my life I really don't need that kind of grief. I have a different way of looking at it.

I was a straight-A student in school because my father thought I was stupid. I went out of my way to show him that although I am a girl, I am his girl and was different. I didn't get into trouble like some of the girls in my school. I studied the television shows he watched, read the same books he did (when he wasn't looking because they were too 'old' for me), searching for a way to connect with him and was finally rewarded one evening with an invitation to sit with him and watch one of his favourite shows.

He is the main reason I am so stubborn. I went out of my way to show him that I am smart, talented, and worthy of his love. I am convinced that he loved me and just was not strong enough to show it. When he died and Iwent up to the house to begin taking care of things, I came across something that he had locked away in his strong box: a tiny glass bottle tied with a pink ribbon that contained my baby teeth. I held that bottle for hours, sobbing. I cried not only because he was gone, but because when I should have pushed him I didn't and I let our relationship go.

My father was a lot of things to a great many people. He taught me a great deal about a lot of different things; things that I didn't even know I had learned until I pulled the information out of my memory when I needed it. Perhaps he could have gone about things differently in terms of his treatment of me however the end result is something I know he would be proud of. How could he not be proud of me? I have his eyes, and they are fantastic.

Cake-y Goodness and some Skool

I just finished my lunch. I am reasonably content and full, yet my eyes keep straying to the piece of cake I brought with me. This piece of cake that was cut from a larger cake that a boy made for me. That's right. A whole cake made for me and I haven't shared it with anyone because it's that good.

Why am I talking about cake? Because work is so stressful right now that I need to switch off for a while and the only way I can do that is to talk about mundane things like cake. It's chocolate and decorated with peanut butter m&m's. He was going to put more candy on it but then realized that the candy would overwhelm the actual cake. Single tear.

School started this week and I have already managed to ostracize myself. I am taking a grammar course and when the prof asked the class how many of us are writers, I was the only one who raised their hand. Instant Keno. He focused on me for the remainder of the class, much to the disdain of a girl who was trying so hard to be the centre of attention.

Alright cake, you win. I will stop this now.

Hmmm....

One of the things I enjoy most about writing my blog is the reactions I get. Sometimes it takes a bit of time for other people's feelings to make their way to me, but they always do and I am always astounded at how people interpret my words. It doesn't matter what I say or how I say it, there will always be a group of people ready to spring into action and twist things around to suit whatever mood they happen to be in at that particular moment. I know this, and I accept it.

A few things have happened recently to make me think long and hard about what I'm doing. The choices I have made recently are turning out to be exactly what I need at this moment; from reconnecting with friends I thought were long-gone to meeting new people to starting school next week. I understand that my happiness at this moment stings others who are no longer as close to me as they once were, yet I am not disturbed by that. When I hear of others moving on and achieving success, my first thoughts are congratulatory, not bitter. I don't want the people around me to fail, I want them to succeed and do well at whatever they want to do and when they are happy, I want them to stay that was for a reasonable amount of time. Everything ebbs, everything flows and so it goes.

I realize that my language at times is confusing and, for those who don't know me, downright abrasive. Keep in mind that these are my feelings, and I am allowed to have them and express them even if they don't mirror yours. The fact that I am happy should be something for others to see and recognize and applaud, as it has been quite some time since this has happened. The fact that my happiness coincides with previous choices I made should not take away from the overall message that even someone as surly as me can be happy. You just have to be willing to work for it.

Make up Your mind Already

So now I'm flip-flopping on the whole invitation-only thing. When I initially closed off my blog, it was because I felt it would upset the boy to read about my exploits as they are no longer about him. Not that I devoted my entire blog to spouting endless amounts of verbiage about him because I didn't. The fact is, things have changed, and my feelings on this have also changed because now I don't care. Not because I'm heartless; anyone who knows me that I am deeply emotional and terribly romantic, but because I feel that it's my right to talk about what's going on in my life without worrying about anyone's reaction. For example, the reaction that will come my way regarding the next paragraph as soon as this blog is made public again.

Last night I had a fantastic chat with a lady I haven't seen in over a year because of her fractured friendship with the boy. I am not making that up or casting blame; that is the truth and she said it to my face. I went to her house and we sat and talked for hours about everything that had happened in the past year or so and in the end realized that we never really stopped being friends. We didn't talk, true, but that hasn't seemed to hinder the friendship. While it will take some time before we are completely comfortable being around each other again, it was nice to finally be able to say all the things I have wanted to directly to her.

This week has been great for me. Not only have I managed to convince myself that two more cats are good idea ( just for a month, they need a home and they are brothers and adorable and oh god I'm turning into the crazy cat-lady), I have come up with a game plan for school. I have decided that I need to go back, there's no resisting it anymore. My boss has offered to pick up half the tab as the prgram directly relates to my job, so there's no excuse for me to not go, except that I am oh-so very lazy and am dreading the first day of school shenanigans.

I am in a very good place in my life, and I would not have been able to come this far so quickly without the love and support of my brothers and best friends. You guys have been so great, and so patient with me as I floundered trying to be courageous and make the changes that I needed so very much in my life. My oath to all of you is that I swear to always be worthy of your love, trust and friendship.

And with that, I am going to re-open my blog. See you guys on the flip side.

Kisses.

Some Clarification

I feel the need to explain a few things. While it's true that the boy actually physical left my apartment at the end of June, we had not been a couple for quite some time. Our lives were going in two very different directions and I needed to make a change in my life to be happy. Part of my search for happiness included him leaving. I needed him to leave my personal space and I also had to make sure that I kept myself happy rather than rely on someone else to provide it for me.

There has been a fair amount of resentment on his part, and since making my blog invitation-only I can finally safely talk about it. Some of his emails to me have been rife with venom, to the point where I marveled at my decision to date him in the first place. We have gone back and forth about why we decided to date and why he decided to move in and it all comes back to the same thing: he blames me. Apparently, the boy hasn't a thought in his head and it's all because I insisted he move in and I insisted we date. I have another idea.

When I left my husband last year, I was an absolute mess. His infidelity did a number on my ego and left me feeling as though this was all my fault. As I worked through it, I found that it wasn't my fault he made the choice he did: his insecurity abut being married to someone as phenomenal as me enabled him to choose another, lessor, woman. Starting a new relationship with someone I have known for years should have worked. It honestly should have. The fact that it didn't leads me to one conclusion: I chose the wrong person.

I am fine with that, because I have corrected the problem now and am quite happy with the way things are going in my life. I am fully capable of having a healthy relationship, I just need to find the right person to share my life with. 

Interesting Stuff

The past week or so has been filled with emotion. Possibly even fraught with it. Some of it is good, most of it is bad. I find myself constantly repeating myself to those who claim to listen. I have had to deal with upheaval at work, the possibility of not being able to afford go back to school as planned and the reality of the need for a second job. While I realize that only a few people know precisely what's going on with me personally, I still find it very discouraging that some people think my life is a breeze and things are working out perfectly for me.

Umm. What the eff?

True, I have made a few decisions in the past little while that may have raised more than one eyebrow, however not one person has asked me why I made those decisions. Instead, I receive emails full of anger and conflicting sentences that I am supposed to be able to understand. Maybe I shouldn't be writing this while I am still stinging from the awful emails, but like I have always said, this is my blog and if you don't like it, don't read it. If something here upsets you because you think I'm talking about you, instead of whining about it to other people so that it eventually makes it way back to me, just ask me. So much easier and so much less drama that way. Unless of course that's the point.

I am tired of trying to make sure everyone else around me is taken care of. When I first started out on this journey, there were quite a few people supporting me and encouraging me to take the necessary steps. Now, a couple of them have decided that it was just a way for me to cull my group, so to speak, and that now my life is absolutely rosy because they are not as involved in my life as they once were. Smell that? That's the odor of bullshit, folks.

I could explain further but what's the point? It's just going to be taken out of context at a later date and thrown right back at me. If I have learned anything in these past few weeks, it's that those who tell you to go and do what you need to in order to be happy don't really mean it. After all, why would anyone want to watch someone else go and be happy, even if they've worked their ass off and deserve it? Better to make sure they stay down in the shit with everyone else, because truly, that's what friends are for.

One Cat Closer to Craziness

Due to the ferocious nocturnal activities Oscar gets up to, I have decided to get him a companion. It was to the point where I would wake up every hour and a half to something breaking or him jumping over me or some other feline act of ridiculousness. I contacted the shelter where I got Oscar and asked them some questions about how he was with other cats. I did not want to put him through any unnecessary stress if he wasn't good around other cats; I would put up with his shenanigans in that case. The shelter told me he was great with other cats and that in fact there was a cat that needed a home. The woman told me that I could foster this cat until it was clear whether or not Oscar would accept her. So I went and got her.

Meet Daphne. She is 10 months old and very friendly. Her purr is very loud and rumbly.  She loves sitting on laps and is very talkative. She and Oscar are becoming more friendly as time passes. She already has marked out her spot and each time I pass her she reached out her little paw and touches me, as if to remind me that she is there and needs some love. While she isn't exactly the type of cat you can pick up and carry around, she does enjoy human contact. Like most cats, that human contact is on her terms. And that's okay by me.

I know that I am one cat closer to being the crazy cat lady and that is fine with me.  Apparently though, the magic number is five. Since I have two already, I still have time. 

Sunday Night Musings: The Musical

This weekend has been really good for me both mentally and spiritually. I have discovered a few things about myself that potentially could set me on the right path. I know that I have made some questionable decisions recently that have yielded less that desirable results and I have figured out why. The details are not important: what is important is that I have been given some valuable information that I intend to use.

In addition to the amount of thinking I have been able to do, I have been cleaning: both my personal space and my mind. My apartment is sparkling, my dishes are done and my laundry is folded up and put away. Metaphor? Hmm. I think so. Good one though, isn't it?

I posted earlier that I was afraid of being alone. That is still true to a point; I do enjoy having people around me even if they aren't good for me. I have always felt that being with the wrong person is better than being alone. I am in no way suggesting that the boy was the wrong one; these are my problems and they are not caused by him in any way. My fear of being alone stems from insecurity: if I am alone that must mean people don't like me. 

In order to make sure people like me, I would do things to keep them around, sometimes to my detriment. Feigning an interest in race cars just to hold a man's interest is no way to live, and I see that now. Keeping who I am locked away so that others won't find me weird has been difficult, and when I let that mask slip people don't know what to do because I no longer fit into the mold that society has built for me. I am learning that while I am intimidating to a lot of people, and I am intimidating when my mask falls away, there are always people around who welcome my wit and humor no matter how elevated it is. Those people are the ones that I need to focus on, not the fluff that I have mistakenly thought I needed to impress. With that comes such a feeling of lightness and freedom, I can take a deep breath and have the air fill my lungs completely instead of just sipping the oxygen like I used to. I should never have tried to be something that I am not and after all these years I can let all that shit just melt away. I don't need it anymore and I am letting it go. 

Having the interests that I do has made me a bit of a target. Because I am not interested in clothes or who's dating who in Hollywood, a lot of my peers don't know how to relate to me. My best friend and I were talking about this today. We both face this sort of thing wherever we go: people find out we like comics and action figures and video games and their eyes glaze over. We don't respond in the way those people are conditioned to expect in social situations. Again, I have tried to repress that simply to 'fit in' and attempt to get along. I used to avoid certain situations because of the amount of stress I would go through; stress that I was unequipped to handle. Because of my awkwardness and inability to talk 'like a girl', ie: discuss fashion and Hollywood heartthrobs, I would find myself sitting or standing by myself which is not very fun at all. These days I have a new approach: Let the Wookie win.

If you don't get that, please stop reading my blog. You clearly don't belong here.

 

It Makes So Much More Sense Now

I have been made aware that some of my posts sound as though the boy has been preventing me from doing things I love and that isn't true. The culprit has been me. For whatever reason, I have been neglecting myself and the decision to do so has always been mine to make. I know that this might sound as though I've pulled out my soapbox but this is my blog and I will say whatever the hell I want. I just wanted to set that straight. Now, if feelings get hurt through my facebook postings or subsequent blog entries, I have this to fall back on. Everyone happy?

See, and now that sounds bitchy. All I wanted to do was say that the boy didn't prevent me from doing anything I ever wanted to do. Period. I'm moving on now before I say something else stupid and have to explain that.

I have made a startling discovery (nice segue, wouldn't you agree?). There is something wrong with my apartment. I didn't notice at first because I was so excited to be there but the first set of clues was the fact that no plants will grow either inside the apartment or outside on the patio. That's right, outside on the patio where the sun shines is a dead plant zone. Weird hmm? It gets better. When I first brought Oscar home he was fairly docile. He would lay around, even he's only 3 and supposed to be more active, and whenever he nibbled on the plants he'd throw up. Thinking I knew what the problem was, I moved the plants out of his way. He continued to throw up and then the plants died. He has since stopped throwing up but now soemthing else is happening: he's become increasingly more active at night, and that's not a good thing.

He's panicking during the night. He wakes up, comes to me and wakes me up which pisses me off because he doesn't stop until I get up no matter what time it is. I get angry, and he grows more panicked and more desperate to get me up. It's a vicious cycle and I think the only reason I see it now is because I allowed my mind to wander this morning as I walked to work without my earphones on. The energy in the house is wrong. There's no balance; and the only reason I know that is from a conversation I had with my brother last night. I have to correct the energy flow in the house while I decide where to move to.

The decision to move originally came from not wanting to pay as much in rent as what I am, but has now become a health issue. If I cannot fix the energy in this place, I will have no option but to move which may not be a bad idea. After all, I would rather take a smaller place in a different area that I can work with and pay less rent for. I am planning to move out by October but we'll see what really happens. It might be sooner depending on what I find and how fast I can pack and arrange things with the boy for his stuff.

In retrospect I suppose I should have told him this first before blogging about it. Damn. Another screw up.

New Roads to Travel

What I love most about being a writer is that my work appeals to different people at different times. Normally when I write there's a point to it and a paycheque attached. The rare times when I get to do my own things and still get paid are wonderful; I express myself in my own way and someone buys it from me. I just recently started writing for a website that I am a huge fan of: Dork Shelf. These guys are totally in tune with their inner geek and their site shows that. I will be contributing every other week and will mainly talk about toys but I have the option of writing about anything that tweaks my geek.

I have a massive headache today and cannot really think straight. I am going to see my brothers today and have a long drive ahead of me. I will go on and on about how great I am another time so just sit tight. I'll be back when my head feels better. 

Ebb and Flow

I am beginning to slip into a funk. I realize that things don't always go the way you think they should and that sometimes what you think you really wanted was only just a stepping stone to the big payoff. I am struggling with something that I thought that I had dealt with already but clearly haven't: loneliness. I am lonely.

Not lonely in the sense that I sit around and mope all day. I don't really have time for that. I am lonely in the sense that I have spent so much of my time focused on other people that now that I have my space and the potential to live my life the way I have always wanted, I am a little lost. I am not really sure how to go about doing this. I come home from work and my cat is the only one who greets me. I make him dinner, then I make my dinner, I watch some tv and I go to bed. I feel like this is what I need to be doing but I feel like I should be doing something different. 

Don't get me wrong, I am loving being alone. I like coming home to Oscar. I guess I am the type of person who isn't ever alone for too long and I know why. While I am enjoying the peace and serenity of my own place, I still enjoy having a special someone in my life. Right now I am struggling to stay alone: trying to resist calling the boy and asking him to come home because I know that is not what I need. I need to be alone. I need to do my own thing and give myself permission to watch terrible movies at 4am if I want to. I have to do this by myself for myself. And I'm terrified.

What I Have Learned

During the course of my adulthood, I have come up against many things that I believe would have felled any other person. Not to say that I am super-human, because I am not. I am simply a woman who has an innate understanding of the way I work and how that relates to the rest of my surroundings. Do I sound cocky and egotistical? Hmm. Perhaps I am being a bit too over the top with that last statement however I think it's true. Those who know me know what I have endured throughout my life and while I am not handing out invitations to a pity party, I am going to bring a couple of things to light. 

In a week and a half I will be divorced for the second time. That's twice I have chosen a mate and been wrong. Twice I have pledged my heart, my soul and my love to someone who has proven to be less than worthy of such gifts. My first marriage occurred when I was very young and did not know the difference between love and obsession. We parted ways soon after  we married as I found him in a compromising position with another woman. At that point of my life, there was no forgiveness in my heart for acts like that and so I chose a path without him. Many years later I decided that I had found the person with whom I could live out the rest of my days and be happy. That too turned out be false and in the process not only did I lose my husband but I also lost another relationship that was very dear to me.

What idea has more power over us than the idea of love? People say they love each other all the time but what are they really saying? If you were to ask for a definition, you would probably be met with a blank stare. My idea of love is an unfortunate one; unfortunate because I don't feel it is something that can be attained. What I want is so complicated and abstract and ever-changing, I don't think anyone would be able to give that to me. Not to say I won't try, I am just unsure of how far to go after realizing the futility of it all.

Ah, crap. I'm becoming all emo and maudlin. I'm just saddened by the culmination of everything that has gone wrong in the past year and the realization that people are jerks and would do pretty much anything for money. I know about people's prices and how flexible they become when pressed to the limits of their resources, but sometimes I just shake my head and wonder how they sleep at night carrying the knowledge of what they've done within them. Maybe it's just me; maybe I am one of the few truly good people left. I can say with absolute certainty that the events of the past few months would have not occurred if certain positions had been reversed. 

Although I am sad and angry and hurt and feel like I've been made to look the fool, it hasn't been all bad. Divorce #2 has had its good moments: it has brought quite a few things to light that I might have otherwise missed. I know a lot more about the people around me and how they truly feel about me because of this. Most of it is negative, and even that is good to know because now it all makes sense to me. All of the confusion and hesitation I have been feeling is gone. 

I have been handed a new chance and believe me, I intend to take it. Don't misunderstand me though, I am not bitter about any of this. In fact, I am relieved and in time I am going to be happy. I choose who enters my life momentarily and who stays. Now that all the pieces have fallen into place, I can make these decisions with precision and accuracy. Am I discounting love? Nope. But I am going to be much more careful from now on. 

The Only Thing Constant is Change

There have been a myriad of things happen during the last little while that have caused my spirit to begin to murmur; softly at first, but as I continued to ignore the scratching at the base of my brain it grew louder and more insistent until finally I could hear what it was saying. It isn't that I am particularily unhappy with my life: I have a good job, wonderful friends and a great place to live with my boy, however sometimes there is something missing. In this case what has been missing is me.

The boy and I have decided to take a break. We both agreed that we moved into this too fast, both of us having finished with previous relationships and spending a lot of time together in the aftermath. In my own defense, although I knew I shouldn't be dating so soon after my last relationship ended I thought that this would be what I needed precisely because he knows me so well. Who else should I end up with than someone who has been by my side through thick and thin? It was a fantastic idea that we were both unprepared for.

It doesn't matter who said what or who hurt whom. We have both made our share of mistakes and although we love each very much, the timing for this is not good. I am finishing up with a grueling situation that has only now begun to get resolved, and now I need the time I should have taken a year ago. It wasn't anything he did or said that pushed me over the edge; it was a combination of this situation and my own needs that I have been ignoring for too long. I realize that my timing probably couldn't have been worse, with him in a play and his birthday right around the corner, however these things cannot be planned out around personal schedules. I understand his anger/frustration with me asking him to find alternate accomodations as soon as possible. I get that he doesn't want to go and would rather try and work through it together. The challenge with that approach is that it does not leave room for what is truly needed by both of us: time away from each other to get our shit together.

To be honest, harsh words have been said. Feelings have been hurt. All this will heal in time and even though I know how much shit I am going to have to endure because of this decision, I need to focus on myself and do what I should have done a year ago. It absolutely tears me apart to know that I am hurting him, however I need to do this. I suppose a small part of me dreads the gossip that will ultimately arise from this; I have already encountered some backlash from what we've decided to do and I am expecting more. There are 3 sides to every story and I will not delude myself into thinking that I will get a chance to explain myself to those who are close to him. Does that matter? No, because those who know me, regardless of the connection, know that I always put other people ahead of myself. I take care of others before tending to my own needs. Do I care that people are going to have a field day with the fact that yet another relationship of mine has failed? Yes, but only insofar as the fact that I will not get the opportunity to present my side and it is all too easy to lay the blame on the person who isn't there to respond.

I have no control over other people and what they do or think. I have to focus on myself and get what I need done so that I can be happy with myself and the rest will follow. This includes doing what I need to in order to protect myself. I cannot make anyone happy until I am happy and let's face it, despite all the good things I have I am not as happy as I should be. It isn't that I am building my defenses up; quite the opposite. I have never been more open with others as I am right now. The key element that has been missing up until now is the courage to take whatever steps I need to in order to secure my happiness. As painful as this particular change is, I firmly believe that I am doing the right thing for myself. Anyone who can't see that does not need to be in my life.

Strange Times

I went to the wedding. I saw many people that I hadn't seen in years, and met some new people who are now my friends. I didn't get weepy or punchy; I was pretty numb throughout most of the day. Once dinner and the ceremony were over and the speeches were said, the party started. And then something strange happened.

Growing up, music was always streaming through our house. Whether it was Mom's Motown hits or Dad's country, we grew up with an appreciation of music. My older brother is a musician and has been in a number of bands that have toured the country. I am not musically inclined although I wish I were. My older brother has two left feet so when he came and joined me on the dancefloor, I was a little shocked. I got over it quickly though. 

This is the picture that my mother has been waiting years to see. This picture represents a lot of different things to me; the fact that my brother is back, that my family is slowly rebuilding itself and that I can now let go of a lot of anger that I've kept bottled up. I always thought that if my brother and I ever spoke again it would be at our mother's funeral, and I am glad to be wrong. Just this once.

Let's Do This

Today is going to be interesting. I have been fighting with myself all week trying to decide if I am actually going to go ahead and do it. I am expected, I have been invited, however I still feel as though I am crashing because no one except for my big brother knows that I am attending. I am talking about my little brother's wedding. I have been asked to go and I still do not know if I am actually going to go ahead and attend.

 My step-mother will be there and no doubt will be on her best behaviour. I don't know how I'm going to react to her. She was terrible to me when I was growing up; trying to mold me into what she thought I should be based on her childhood and the way she was raised. When I wouldn't adhere to her idea of what I should be, because I was a stubborn and willful child, she would beat me. My father stood back and let her, knowing full well that what she was doing was wrong but I suppose he felt powerless to intervene. Anyway, that's all ancient history and it's time to move on. The point is that she was a definite factor in the amount of therapy I have had to have over the years. And today I get to see her again.

My mother tells me that this will be good for me. I'm not sure what she means by that. I do know that I am much more prepared to see my step-mother this time than I was at my father's funeral. Also, today isn't about her. If she and I need to talk, we can do that some other time when her son isn't getting married. You can tell that I am stressed by the way I'm writing.

I have stalled long enough. Trying to not throw up. What the hell am I doing? Enough. I am going to go shower and go to this if for no other reason that to write about it when I get home.

Tired

I am mentally exhausted and need a vacation. It isn't enough that I took a day off from work; I am just incredibly tired and really wish I could go away for a week. I can't because I have too much work to do and that is frustrating for me. I just want to sleep for a whole week.  

Just like Oscar.

  

I Want Those Two Hours back

Last night I went see Terminator Salvation and while I enjoyed myself immensely, it was a terrible movie. The first fifteen minutes were great; lots of action, tons of brooding from Christian Bale and then something happened. It was like someone reached into my head and planted the entire movie in there, cheesy lines and all, and said very quietly 'Now you know what happens. Go have a pint.'

I unfortunately didn't listen and stayed for the rest of the movie. The main reason I stayed was primarily to make sure the voice in my head was right. The other reason I stayed was because of the huge bag of popcorn I had yet to finish. Between the obvious links and deliberate pointing back to the first three movies, it was hard to tell if this was a new movie or outtakes from the others. I gave up trying to justify my choice of film; I love bad movies with lots of action, and this was right up my alley. 

The writer in me kept seeing how it could have been so much better, how they could have taken this little piece of dialogue and expanded it, or cut this action scene back however when it comes right down to it this was not meant to win any kind of award. It was meant to entertain, not inform and it did just that. Plus, Sam Worthington was great as the secret Terminator. And I did not spoil it because believe me you can see that plot coming a mile away.

Now I have to go cook a chicken.

Why Even Bother?

I got up this morning fully intending to work on my story and just realized that I have spent 36 minutes surfing the internet and checking out facebook. Okay, perhaps that isn't entirely true: I sent the piece I'm working on to my work email address so that I can print it out and edit it. Although that only counts as about a minute of work, it's still work and I still did it. 

I never used to be a morning person, unless you count getting home at 5am and staying up until after coffee and bacon before heading to bed. This is somewhat different. I actually woke up excited this morning. Not sure if it's because everyone is my office is away at a conference and I can actually get my work done this week or if it's because I'm following through with something. I am a horrible procrastinator and will leave things to the very last second. I know it will take a little while for me to become used to this new routine, but I have to say I do like getting up early. 

This week is going to be hectic. I have a lot of work to do and one of my colleagues is going on maternity leave at the end of the month so I need to pick her brain on a couple of things before she leaves. She takes care of a ton of small things in addition to her regular job and I want to make sure that those things are covered. No one has given any thought to that yet; I'd like to be able to say it's being handled when the time comes.

Now that I've spent too much time not doing what I had originally planned to do when I set my alarm last night, it's almost time to get ready for work. I don't feel as though I've let myself down though; this is a new process and once I become accustomed to it I will be more focused on doing what I rolled out of bed for: writing.  

If this is going to work I will need to buy more cream for my coffee. 

The Next Step

Yesterday was a great day. I spent the morning and part of the afternoon with R, going to an art gallery and speaking with the owner about art and creativity. When I spoke to him about the necessity of having a day job so that I could do what I love on the side, he completely agreed with me. He understood that I am not giving up on my dream, that I am being realistic and responsible by ensuring my bills are paid. While I would be able to freelance and be paid well, I am not willing to sacrifice my lifestyle just to show people I can do it. It is enough that I know I can do it and I no longer have anything to prove.

Further to that was the topic of education and whether or not it is useful. I am pro-education and continuously looking for courses to take or books to read. This fall I am going back to school to finally get the certification I need in order to charge more for my work. In my case, spending the money on the courses isn't negotiable: I have to spend this money in order to get more money later. While that may make me sound like a money-hungry bitch, I think of it as a logical decision that should be made for my benefit.

After I got home, I thought a lot about what we had discussed at the gallery and how it applies to my personal life. Without going into detail, I have made a decision that may cost me down the road. I spend a lot of my time ensuring that the people around me are well taken care of and I would rather focus on their happiness than my own. Whether it's because I don't really know what makes me happy or I am too uncomfortable to examine myself to find out, the fact remains that I need to focus on myself. Doesn't mean I'm going to become single anytime soon; it just means I need to shift my focus to myself. Part of that means I need to write more, as it is my passion and something that I need in my life. I have left it for a little while simply because life got in the way and there were other things that needed to be done. Now that they are dealt with, I have to get back to what I was doing before: getting up early to write before going to work.  

I have always found that starting my day off in that manner makes for a better day. I am in desperate need of a mental workout and I can do that by writing. I have started running again and I am amazed at how quickly the extra puffiness comes away. Not that I was fat; I put on a bit of weight when I was pregnant and just became lazy. Now that I have started running, I am fitting back into clothes that I had had to put aside because of the extra bit of me. Running and writing. I am right back to my 20's when that's all I used to do. Things really do come full circle, don't they? I was right where I needed to be and I drifted away because of a variety of things but just like fashion seems to revive every decade, so does life.   

I almost forgot. In a couple of weeks I am going to my little brother's wedding. I know, my family tree is becoming a shrub with all the twists and turns and nothing seems to match up like it should. D is the product of my father and second wife. He is getting married and has no idea I will be there as I haven't spoken to him in almost 12 years, just like my big brother M. His fiancee is aware that I am coming and completely supports it. I suspect there may be some tears shed when we do see each other.

Now that I am all warmed up, I am going to end this and go finish my submission to an amazing sci-fi magazine so that they can publish it and make me happy. 

A Bitch, A Complaint and some Awesomeness

Bitch:

I'm pretty sure I've already bitched about this but I'm still so damn angry I need to do it again. Two weekends ago was Mother's Day and the boy and I went to see my mom. We picked up a gift and a lovely card and were prepared to sit through the mounds of bullshit that my step-father was going to dish out. We got there, said hello and I noticed that the dining room table wasn't set the usual way when we go there for dinner. No fancy placemats, no chargers, no crystal, nothing. Just an empty table. I turned to my mother to ask her wtf, and she said that my step-father had decided that we weren't going to make a big deal about dinner. I just stared at her, furious. Knowing full well that he was in the next room, I said very loudly, "He does know that today is Mother's Day and that Father's Day is right around the corner, correct? I am guessing we won't be making a big deal out of that, either?"

We ate in the kitchen. What an asshole. Just wait until Father's Day rolls around and I don't make a big deal out if it like I normally do. Jackass.

Complaint:

I am tired of being labelled the bad guy for speaking my mind and holding fast to my principles. Speaking my mind at work hasn't netted me a raise however it has given me the chutzpah to go looking for a new job. When people don't do what they say they will, I file that information away for later and make sure I have the necessary back up for when the shit hits the fan. I cannot tell you how many times I've been asked the status of a project that I am not working on and expected to provide the answer. I have stopped trying to answer and begun to allow those who are responsible, and I use that term loosely, to actually blubber and sputter their way through whatever excuse they can muster at the time. It is very empowering to know that by giving up control of something, I am actually regaining control. And I also enjoy the look of terrified understanding on their faces when they realize that it all could have been avoided by simply working with me and not trying to fuck me over.

And now for the Awesomeness:

Last weekend was my stupid step-father's birthday barbeque. It was also the first time in 12 years that I have seen or spoken to my older blood brother. While it was awkward at first, he and I quickly reclaimed the friendship we shared when we were younger, to the point where he invited me up to his house for a weekend. We had a very long talk and finally were able to talk through some things that have been the basis for our non communication; things that had been eating away at both of us simply because we are both too stubborn to pick up the phone for fear of opening ourselves to pain. During our fantastic talk, we both were rebuked by our step-father for not joining the party. We looked at each other, and then before my brother could say anything, I reminded my step-father that I have not seen my brother in 12 years. I then directed him back to his party and away from us.

My brother has always held a very special place in my heart and I have missed him so much throughout these years. I completely opened up to him and told him that, and to my complete surprise he echoed my feelings. I don't really remember too much of the party to be honest, I was pretty fixated on my brother and his wife. They are a lovely couple, and she was instrumental in finally getting through to my brother and convincing him that sometimes you need to let go of the past and move forward in order to find peace.

It was a little weird being in my mom's kitchen with both my mom and my brother. It felt like no time had passed at all and we were still the same crazy giggling family we always were. I have always wanted my own family comprised of my own flesh and blood, and now it seems as though I have them. But that's not the best part. I also have a little brother whom I haven't seen in almost as long, and after my older brother told him the stories of our meeting, he now wants to see me too. And he's getting married next month. And they want me to go to the wedding. And we're going to build my Lego Death Star that's still in the box from Christmas together. As a family. Me and my brothers and my sisters-in-law. Wow.

And honestly, I don't need to hear any crap from anyone about how I was supposed to have a Death Star building party and now everyone's all upset because it won't happen. It will happen. I'm just going to build it with my brothers first. And if any of you have a problem with that, guess who won't be invited to the second building?

I Love it When A Plan Comes Together

This weekend was one of the best ever. There really isn't one definitive thing that happened that makes me say that, it's more of a meshing of everything that happened. Friday night I was out with my girlfriends and we went dancing. The last time I did that I was with a different group of people and in a very different place in my life. Friday night reminded me that life doesn't stand still no matter how much you may want it to and that when it moves you either move with it or get left behind.

Saturday the boy and I spent with my mom. We took her a gift and a sappy card and she made us burgers and fries. More than the food though, we sat around after my step-father left and just giggled. She also surprised me with a gift that brought tears to my eyes: a book full of her memories of my grandmother. It also included pictures when I was little; pictures of my dad, my mom and me on my first day home (my mom had the same hairstyle back then that I am sporting right now: weird) and lots of other stuff. One of the nicest things was that it's written by my mother, so it's all her memories of me when I was a kid and how she felt when she was a kid. It really opened my eyes to read that. I have always known that I am special to my mom and it made me feel very special to be given something so lovingly and painstakingly put together by her. I am still flipping through the pages and finding out new things about my mother and I love her even more because she's allowed me to see that secret part of her that she doesn't show anyone.

After my mom's, we went to a friend's birthday party. Then we went to a terrible strip club. Then we went to an awesome comedy club. Then on the way home, I called 911 for the very first time in my life.

The main street by our house is undergoing construction and part of it is blocked to all southbound traffic. This means you have to find an alternate route, as in don't drive any further; there is no road. We were driving northbound and saw a black sports car dragging part of the chainlink fence on its hood. The car had smashed through the barrier fence, taken off part of its fancy underside skirting and was sparking the whole way. The car was swerving, and due to the time (almost 2am) the boy and I were afraid that with the clubs letting people out someone was going to get hurt. I called 911 to let them know, and laughed when the woman asked for any distinguishing marks on the car. I told her it was dragging a fence. Then we went home and played a videogame and went to bed.

Sunday we went to see the boy's mother and went for lunch then I napped the whole way home. We got home late afternoon and sat in front of the television until I decided I needed to go to bed. There was a sleeping cat in my lap making me drowsy and I finally gave up around 9pm.

Great weekend, with another great one coming up. I have so much work to do, but I'm not complaining. Between my regular work and the magazine I'm editing plus my writing, I am going to need this long weekend to catch up on few things like sleep. And Descent.

The Friday Cometh...

The past few weeks have been a bit of blur. I am so mentally exhausted that I have been sitting here trying to write something smart and witty for the past few minutes and all I've come up with is the revelation that my cat might be gay. I've also realized that the magazine I'm editing is full of errors and it's making me want to curl up into a ball and cry. So, I'm editing hopeful writers' work and trying to be nice about it but the truth is, if you cannot string together coherent sentences and spell them correctly, perhaps you should focus your energies on schooling yourself in the literary arts before trying to sell your work. Just an idea.

On a completely different note, I am almost finished my story for the sci-fi magazine who wants to publish it. That's exciting, except I'm too tired to fully appreciate what that means: I'm breaking into a competely new writing genre. New to me, anyway.

Although things are busy, I am fairly happy and content with the way things are going. My work is good, my job is great, the boy and I just celebrated our one-year anniversary last week and I don't really have any complaints. None that are valid anyway. I will always find something to complain about if I look hard enough.

Until next time, stay frosty and watch your back. Samsquanches are afoot.

Randomness

This past week has been a complete and utter mess. I am in the middle of judging for an awards show and while all the packages of entries have been sent, I have to get the judges to submit their marks so that I can release the top ten winners in each of the 20 or so categories. That's a lot of work to begin with, but add to it an AGM (Annual General Meeting) for a very high maintenance group of women and it has been absolute mayhem. Plus, earlier this week one of my judges passed away and needed to be replaced. I can't even begin to describe how difficult that was, not only dealing with the passing of a literary icon but trying to find someone worthy of his position on the judging team. I managed to pull it all off this week, right down to voting cards for the meeting Monday morning. Unbelievable. So last night, after this horrendous week, I decided it was time to karaoke.

Okay, really it was the boy's idea as he needed to meet up with one of his friends and knew she'd be there however I wasn't going to go simply because of the stressful week I'd had. The boy and I met up with my brother and his friend P who were sitting on a patio and after a few pints, I decided that I would go to karaoke but wouldn't sing. I really thought that, honest. We met up with our friends and next thing I knew I was being called up to sing. So I did, and I rocked, for once. Maybe it was because on the way the boy told me that I normally choose the wrong songs. this time I chose different songs and it actually didn't sound too bad. Unless I'm deluding myself, which also might be the case. 

In the middle of all this, Jerry O'Connell walked in and sat down at our table. No joke. He showed me pictures of the babies and Rebecca, and we had an awesome chat about kids and marriage. He was there because the host of the karaoke is a friend of his and Jerry was in town and thought he'd come check it out so he could tell everyone back in LA what the host does what he's in Toronto. Needless to say, there were many pictures being emailed back to LA last night!

Today when I woke up and remembered that I sat and drank 50 with Jerry O'Connell it reminded me that sometime you have to go out when you don't feel like it because you never know what might happen. Last night was great because of all the great songs people sang and the environment was awesome. I will remember that the next time I think I'm too tired to go have fun.

Mom to the rescue

Yesterday was my brother's 40th birthday party. I met my parents at the subway station and we went together. As a family. Yikes. It was good to see my sister-in-law and my nieces and to hang out with the rest of my family. I don't get to see them very often, which is my fault, so it was nice to get a chance to catchup and see what everyone is doing. My mom and I sat together for the entire thing, and I helped her curb her jealousy at the sight of my step-father helping his ex-wife figure out how to work her camera. My mom tends to hold a grudge, much like a few people I know, and she knows how to say the right thing at the right time to enforce that. 

I ended up going back to my parents house for dinner and the boy met me there. We had a great time, except for me attempting to 'help' my mom with dinner. She was making one of my favourites: pork tenderloin in a maple glaze sauce. In order to make this dish, you sear the tenderloin in a stainless steel frying pan and transfer it to the oven to cook. When the pan comes out of the oven 20 minutes later, the meat is transfered to a plate and tinfoil tented over it to keep it warm. The sauce is made in the same pan and simmered until reduced. I was in charge of the sauce and as my mom took the pan out of the oven, she reminded me over and over that it was hot and that I needed a glove to handle it.

I was offended that she thought she needed to remind me. I had done this a bajillion times and didn't think I needed the reminder. I think you know the rest. Aloe on my fingertips for the rest of the night, followed by vitamin e spray that instantly took away the sting. I stood there for a few minutes after I had touched the handle; it was such a natural gesture I didn't think about how hot it was. I didn't want to tell my mom what I'd done because I knew she'd make fun of me.

She made fun of me alright, but not before she made sure I wasn't too badly burned. It was bad, but not hospital bad. This morning my fingertips are crispy and gross. It will take couple of days to heal completely but maybe this means I'm off dish-duty until then. Not so bad after all.    

Just Answer me. Now.

One of the most infuriating things that I have to deal with at work is the lack of response. I realize that people are busy, expecially now that many companies are downsizing and those who are left have to pick up the slack but come on. Answer your emails. Return phone calls. Be mindful of other people's time and efforts.

I am coordinating a judging panel of both English and French speaking people in a series of judging efforts that span four provinces in three weeks. It all happens at once and it all has to be completed by a specific time. I have no doubt that this will go smoothly; I am just wishing that those people who are still undecided about their participation would make up their minds and then tell me so I can replace them. It is getting a little too late in the day for me to have to redo the entire judging panel but if that's what has to happen, so be it. Although I may have to be committed if that occurs.

In other news, my poor bff is being put through the wringer at work. I think she's looking for a new job right now. There's only so much a person can take before they snap, and she is very close to snapping. People are changing her documents and locking them so she can't change them back, deleting things she needs from the shared drive and generally making her life miserable. Just like high school. Poor thing. I was hoping that games tonight would cheer her up but I don't think she's going.

Right now things are pretty bleak. Although I love my job, I'm having doubts about it and I have been told that there are 'things coming up' that I might be interested in. Having said that, I guess it's time to dust off the resume and get cracking. Things don't just happen for people: you have to make them happen for yourself and I certainly won't get another job just by willing it to happen.

It Didn't Suck. At All.

A few weeks ago my mother called to ask if I would want to go and see 'Dirty Dancing' with her and some colleagues from work. I hesitated, because I hated the movie, but agreed to go. I thought it would be a great way to spend a bit of time with her outside of family things (meaning without my step-father around). Last night was the big night and I have to admit, it didn't suck.

It wasn't the best thing I'd ever seen onstage, but it was entertaining. The girl playing the lead role was fantastic, which was unfortunate for everyone else in the cast as she really stood out and the rest were just filler. I thought that she was perfectly suited to the role and played it really well. What was astonishing was the amount of older ladies in the audience, hooting and hollering each time the lead male came on stage. It was almost as if they thought they were in a male strip club, with the loud requests for the men to take off their clothes ringing through the theatre every five minutes.

The main thing I want in a movie or a play or a musical is that I don't want to perceive the passage of time. If I have no idea how long I've been sitting there watching something, then I deem it good. If I look at my watch, or find my thoughts drifting away, then I'm not being entertained and I feel like I've wasted my money. Last night fell in the 'good' category because I really enjoyed watching the characters play their parts. I have no idea how it's different from the movie or which parts have been changed or edited out and I really don't care. I remember hating the movie and this was a pleasant surprise. I wouldn't go see it again, but it was good to see once with my very opinionated mother who needed to tell me which songs in the musical she still had on vinyl.

The whole thing from start to finish was really good, although I really enjoyed the scene where Baby's father rips up the cheque he was going to give to the 'nice' guy going to med school who had knocked up the main dancing girl which caused the huge kerfuffle between Baby and her father. That guy was a douche. My mom said so.

Very Good Readin'

I have been on a bit of a reading tear lately, having finished four books in a week. Some might argue that comics aren't books, but when you have to read words and decipher pictures to get the entirety of what the writer and artist are trying to make you see/feel, I would strongly disagree and even go so far as to offer that comics are perhaps more difficult to read than regular books. In regular books, the writer tells you what to see/hear/feel without letting you take what you want from the story. Comics are the complete opposite; the written story is directly influenced by the choice of artist who chooses panel placement/size to better reflect the emotions that they are trying to evoke in the reader. Working together, pictures and words tell a more complete story in that the reader is given the choice of what they will take away from it.

Two stories stand out the most in what I've read: 'The Graveyard Book' by Neil Gaiman and 'Joker' written by Brian Azzarello and drawn by a slew of talented artists. I am so impressed with the calibre of story-telling in both of these books that I've loaned them out with strict instructions to read them. Sometimes people accept books and don't read them and that bothers me. If I've gone to the trouble of bringing you a book that I think you would enjoy why wouldn't you either read it or tell me to take it back? That's clearly another post though.

Gaiman's book centres on a baby boy whose family is brutally slaughtered. The baby, having escaped death by wandering into a cemetary, is taken in by the inhabitants of the cemetary and raised as their son. He learns things from each citizen of the graveyard and eventually the full story of who he is and why he must be killed is revealed. A great read that you wish would never end, but sadly it does and I cried. For real.

Azzarello's take on Joker was absolutely devastating. We all know that Joker is crazy but this story explores just how crazy crazy can get. He drags everyone else along with him for the ride and it's terrifying and exhilarating and hysterically funny and sad all at the same time. Plus, Harley is clad in red and black PVC right from her first appearance and that's always a pleasure to see.

I love books, and have too many of them to prove it. I enjoy finding new things to read and I love passing them along. When I find stories that move me, I am inspired to try and create that feeling in my own writing. A good story is worth all the pain and suffering that it sometimes takes in order to write it. Reading these two stories and understanding how long it has taken to get them out of the writer's head and into my hands is also very comforting. Sometimes it's easy to lose track of the amount of time and energy it actually takes to write a good story, and it reminds me that I am on track with my own work. The old adage is true: you can't rush perfection.