I have not dropped off of the face of the planet, I just have not had a recent epiphany that has been worthy of immortalization on the internet. However, I know that I check my reading list several times a day to see if anyone has posted anything interesting. When people are not posting I am almost irritated with them for not contributing to my personal growth or sheer entertainment. So when thinking along those lines I realize that there might be some people out there who are irritated with my failure to communicate and analyse my daily adventures. I can’t promise a great overall theme or thought today, but hey, at least it is something to read.
I went with a friend and her cousins to see a movie last night. Yes it was that horrible pop-culture vampire tripe that every tween is obsessing over. It was a lot better than the first one. And, I have to admit that there were parts of it that were good. However, in the last few hours I have been deconstructing the flick in my head and I think I have a few problems with it. I think this is exactly NOT the story we want our young women reading. I don’t say this because of the over-riding metaphor for sexual awakening, or because the dark supernatural elements offend my religious convictions (ha!) but because it is yet another story that sets our young girls on the wrong pathway about relationships and what a man should be.
If you read this series of books, or watch the films you will see that this teen relationship has a series of problems. It is incredibly intense because of the ‘trouble’ that surrounds this relationship. We are teaching our young girls that a real relationship is dangerous; that these relationships should be impossible in order to be fulfilling. Our girls will expect the dramatic gaze and the strong yet brooding protector. Our girls are being told that relationships should be hard and painful and at the end of it all you will get what you want. The more trouble it is, the better it is, and all you have to do is suffer though the angst and the guessing...and the guy leaving you because he is so...conflicted. Eventually if you suffer long enough the two of you will be together. (Yes I understand that this is a common plot and without these complications there would be no story and therefore no entertainment.)
Men/boys are not like this. Let me tell you that the opposite is true. A relationship that is dangerous is just that...dangerous. A boy/man that treats you badly for any reason...just treats you badly. A person who can’t give you everything you want or need in a relationship is just that. Suffering through it will not result in a fairytale ending. He will not change. If he leaves you...then he doesn’t want to be with you, or he has made the choice for some reason and you deserve better than that. Giant romantic gestures are gestures. They are not always indicative of actual love. Sometimes they are just indicative of someone wanting it to ‘look’ like love. All surface.
Now, to give you all some hope and so that you don’t think I am just jaded and don’t believe in romance I will tell you what the reality of a good relationship is. He is considerate. He is passionate about what he believes in, and he believes that you can do anything. He works with you, supports you in all you do. You are part of a team, not a secondary player in your own life. He brings home a purple fuzzy bunny because you like purple fuzzy things. He levels your WOW character while you are at work. Your relationship is equal parts him and you. He listens and can make breakfast out and a newspaper as romantic as a weekend away or flower petal pathways. I’m not saying that typical romantic gestures are not appreciated ...but they should not be expected – nor should they be overused. You do not NEED him to save you...but it sure is nice that he can carry heavy stuff. You may find yourself breathless with laughter, or love, but you won’t find yourself breathless because of the painful thing he just said. Here is the biggest point people: He is a part of your life, but he does not dominate your entire existence. You are able to be you, to have your interests, friends, likes and dislikes. I always like to think of it like you have two lives that merge well together. I feel like the women or young girls in these books focus so thoroughly on the guy and being with the guy, no matter what the odds, that these girls have nothing else. They are only the girlfriend or love interest of said leading man.
I am the lead in my own life. I am ecstatic to have found in my partner a leading man in his life. I’m glad that we get to be in the same movie together. I am also equally glad we don’t have the complications of vampiric family or werewolf friends with crushes on either of us. To those of you who have figured out the secret to the reality of relationships tell someone. To those who are waiting to find their co-star: Live your life for you, enjoy all you do – be adventurous. People who have the leading role in their own lives are not lonely people. They are fulfilled people. My mother always told me that you find who you are going to be with when you are not looking. It is a struggle to really understand that and stop making the story of your life about searching for someone else. I would suggest that once you have mastered that, the rest just falls into place.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Boxes
It has been awhile since I posted. One could assume that my life has been going fairly smoothly and I have not learned any major life lessons. It seems I only really post here when I have recently had some sort of epiphany. I don’t think I’ve had a major one lately. This might mean that I have somehow overcome a portion of my insanity. I do feel more in control than I have in awhile. Yet I have noticed that the strangest things send me into the beginnings of anxiety. Perhaps this just means that I’m not learning anything and I am in fact at a standstill in terms of personal revelations. Is that good or bad?
I am having this uncontrollable urge to try and keep my house very organized. Of course, I have accepted that I am simply not a neat or minimalist type of person. I can try to keep things organized and neat but I fail miserably every time. I attribute my failure to simply possessing too much stuff. I come by that honestly. My paternal grandmother was a hoarder. I can remember weaving my way through towers of boxed up crap. Anytime we left my grandmother’s house she would give us a bag of candy. Usually it had been around so long that we had never heard of the type of candy it was. As soon as we were out of visible range, my mother would take the candy from us. I figure that saved our lives on several occasions. Anyway, I keep stuff. I don’t keep food. But I keep a lot of things in case I need them. As a teacher, I have many things I ‘might’ need like weird odds and ends or old lessons from when I first started my career. In all honesty, I probably wouldn’t use a lot of that material now. Furthermore, I’ve discovered that my skills are honed enough that I don’t need the binders upon binders of materials. I guess after ten years of working in education I’ve got it figured out. So the twenty or so boxes of school stuff I might need in the basement...I might not ever need. But I’m keeping them anyway. Besides they are a marker of change, or an ever-present reminder of my accomplishments. They are artifacts.
I suppose all of the superfluous things I keep do tell a story of sorts. My school materials trace my development and travels in education. I started as an English teacher when I really wanted to be a history teacher. Then I took a wild side trip through music, communications technology, film and finally student success. I’ve discovered some talents I didn’t know I had. Also, I discovered that there are alternative jobs out there that I would also enjoy if I were to ever win the lottery. Film school would be an incredible experience. Other random things I have kept define my love of popular culture of days past. I have a massive Star Wars collection. I have a few valuable pieces but overall most of it is really the stuff you see at flea market tables. Oh incidentally, that person standing there buying the death star pen is me. Add that one to the boxes. I have Rubbermaid containers that house my dolls and stuffed animals from my past. I sometimes think that I keep them for my children. However, I am almost 34 and unmarried (although one could call me common-law). I don’t really see children in my future anymore. So why am I keeping this story of my past?
I find it distressing to think that all this ‘stuff’ defines me. It would mean I really am a product of a materialistic society and I myself would be *gasp* materialistic. I don’t want to be that. But perhaps that is another aspect of who I am that I need to accept.
Most recently an old friend of mine was able to get a job here at the same school I work at. I’m excited to have him here. In this rural isolated area it is nice to have people around who you can hang out with. It is especially cool because this is someone I’ve known for a long time. We are the type of friends that can be out of contact for a long time, but when we do get to talk or hang out, not a lot has changed. We lived together in college and I would say he was one of the first people to define my new “family”. In the last 10 years of my life or so I have met a variety of people who I would define as closer than friends. These are the people who would offer to drive an hour and a half to pick up Henning and then drive him another two and a half hours so that he could be with me during a crisis. These are the people who have offered to help us look after our future children if we have the flu. These are the people who helped me procure a loan so that I didn’t lose my car. They have fed Henning when he was out of work, taught me skills I was lacking and have made us feel secure when we are far away from a safety net. This particular friend has held my hair back when I have had far too much to drink, taken me to the hospital, looked after me when I’ve been ill, and made me laugh when I desperately needed to. I can remember the two of us living on hotdogs, rice and Swiss- chalet sauce.
So of course, because this friend of mine will be living with us for the next few months I am reorganizing and reflecting on old times. This is what has led to the reflection on all the stuff I have boxed up in the basement. I am asking myself, do I really need to keep all of this? But then I think to myself, it isn’t just me who might need it.
I don’t think I have a great revelation to wrap up this entry. I’m sure that I could draw connections between the important things I keep in the basement and the important friends who I may not see all that often, but who I need. I hope that some people have me boxed up in their basement and that when they need to; they open the box and invite me back into life, even if it is just for a little while. I hope that I am a difficult item to give away, or throw out. I hope that I am defined more by whose basements I inhabit then by what material items I keep in mine. I’m not ready to clean out my basement. In fact, I hope to fill it with boxes.
I am having this uncontrollable urge to try and keep my house very organized. Of course, I have accepted that I am simply not a neat or minimalist type of person. I can try to keep things organized and neat but I fail miserably every time. I attribute my failure to simply possessing too much stuff. I come by that honestly. My paternal grandmother was a hoarder. I can remember weaving my way through towers of boxed up crap. Anytime we left my grandmother’s house she would give us a bag of candy. Usually it had been around so long that we had never heard of the type of candy it was. As soon as we were out of visible range, my mother would take the candy from us. I figure that saved our lives on several occasions. Anyway, I keep stuff. I don’t keep food. But I keep a lot of things in case I need them. As a teacher, I have many things I ‘might’ need like weird odds and ends or old lessons from when I first started my career. In all honesty, I probably wouldn’t use a lot of that material now. Furthermore, I’ve discovered that my skills are honed enough that I don’t need the binders upon binders of materials. I guess after ten years of working in education I’ve got it figured out. So the twenty or so boxes of school stuff I might need in the basement...I might not ever need. But I’m keeping them anyway. Besides they are a marker of change, or an ever-present reminder of my accomplishments. They are artifacts.
I suppose all of the superfluous things I keep do tell a story of sorts. My school materials trace my development and travels in education. I started as an English teacher when I really wanted to be a history teacher. Then I took a wild side trip through music, communications technology, film and finally student success. I’ve discovered some talents I didn’t know I had. Also, I discovered that there are alternative jobs out there that I would also enjoy if I were to ever win the lottery. Film school would be an incredible experience. Other random things I have kept define my love of popular culture of days past. I have a massive Star Wars collection. I have a few valuable pieces but overall most of it is really the stuff you see at flea market tables. Oh incidentally, that person standing there buying the death star pen is me. Add that one to the boxes. I have Rubbermaid containers that house my dolls and stuffed animals from my past. I sometimes think that I keep them for my children. However, I am almost 34 and unmarried (although one could call me common-law). I don’t really see children in my future anymore. So why am I keeping this story of my past?
I find it distressing to think that all this ‘stuff’ defines me. It would mean I really am a product of a materialistic society and I myself would be *gasp* materialistic. I don’t want to be that. But perhaps that is another aspect of who I am that I need to accept.
Most recently an old friend of mine was able to get a job here at the same school I work at. I’m excited to have him here. In this rural isolated area it is nice to have people around who you can hang out with. It is especially cool because this is someone I’ve known for a long time. We are the type of friends that can be out of contact for a long time, but when we do get to talk or hang out, not a lot has changed. We lived together in college and I would say he was one of the first people to define my new “family”. In the last 10 years of my life or so I have met a variety of people who I would define as closer than friends. These are the people who would offer to drive an hour and a half to pick up Henning and then drive him another two and a half hours so that he could be with me during a crisis. These are the people who have offered to help us look after our future children if we have the flu. These are the people who helped me procure a loan so that I didn’t lose my car. They have fed Henning when he was out of work, taught me skills I was lacking and have made us feel secure when we are far away from a safety net. This particular friend has held my hair back when I have had far too much to drink, taken me to the hospital, looked after me when I’ve been ill, and made me laugh when I desperately needed to. I can remember the two of us living on hotdogs, rice and Swiss- chalet sauce.
So of course, because this friend of mine will be living with us for the next few months I am reorganizing and reflecting on old times. This is what has led to the reflection on all the stuff I have boxed up in the basement. I am asking myself, do I really need to keep all of this? But then I think to myself, it isn’t just me who might need it.
I don’t think I have a great revelation to wrap up this entry. I’m sure that I could draw connections between the important things I keep in the basement and the important friends who I may not see all that often, but who I need. I hope that some people have me boxed up in their basement and that when they need to; they open the box and invite me back into life, even if it is just for a little while. I hope that I am a difficult item to give away, or throw out. I hope that I am defined more by whose basements I inhabit then by what material items I keep in mine. I’m not ready to clean out my basement. In fact, I hope to fill it with boxes.
Friday, August 7, 2009
I'm Not What I Seem To Me
I’ve had a strange realization today. All in all I think it is a positive one. I spend a lot of time thinking about the qualities that other people possess that I would like to possess. These qualities could be physical, intelligence related, social or moral. Most of the people in my life possess something that I lack. In many cases I have longed to have some of their qualities.
I might crave the charisma of one of my friends. Her ability to be the centre of attention in any social situation, the way that people are drawn to her is something that I have always wanted. I have one friend who is a complete free spirit. She is brave, travels and always tries new things. The ability to have an adventure is something I’ve always wanted. I’ve had adventures, but not because I’ve decided to have them. I envy those of my friends with fashion sense. I love the strength that many of my friends possess. I love their ability to be witty, to realize opportunity, or to have complete faith in something. The sheer determination of one of my friends astounds me on a regular basis.
I have always spent a lot of time wanting to be other people. I think this is why I love theatre and larp as much as I do. I love the idea of being able to try on some of the aspects that I would sincerely love to possess naturally. I’ve always loved costumes. When I went for my teaching interview I dressed the part of a homely English teacher. I’ve been a rebellious Goth, a studious prep and I’ve even tried to embody the costume of an environmentalist with a guitar. I still am not very good at the guitar. I’ve dressed like Dana Scully from x-files because I wanted to be her. Now I have my eye on Jennifer Carpenter because so many people say I look like her.
What I have realized today is that while I am busy looking at all the attributes that I wish I possessed, someone is looking at me thinking the same thing. There are people who learn from me and consider me to be wise.
This past weekend I discovered that the way I see myself is not the way that other people see me. I see myself as conservative and kind of boring. Other people see me as anything but conservative. In the past week or so I have had several people refer to me as intense. They don’t mean it in the negative way...at least I don’t think they do. I think I can handle intense. And tonight a friend of mine while giving a speech referred to me as someone who she would like to be like. I was astounded. Seriously? There are people who want to be like me.
The next time I have a low self-confidence day I’m going to think about the fact that somewhere out there, someone is thinking that they would like to possess some of the qualities I possess...crazy.
Gosh darn it, people like me.
I might crave the charisma of one of my friends. Her ability to be the centre of attention in any social situation, the way that people are drawn to her is something that I have always wanted. I have one friend who is a complete free spirit. She is brave, travels and always tries new things. The ability to have an adventure is something I’ve always wanted. I’ve had adventures, but not because I’ve decided to have them. I envy those of my friends with fashion sense. I love the strength that many of my friends possess. I love their ability to be witty, to realize opportunity, or to have complete faith in something. The sheer determination of one of my friends astounds me on a regular basis.
I have always spent a lot of time wanting to be other people. I think this is why I love theatre and larp as much as I do. I love the idea of being able to try on some of the aspects that I would sincerely love to possess naturally. I’ve always loved costumes. When I went for my teaching interview I dressed the part of a homely English teacher. I’ve been a rebellious Goth, a studious prep and I’ve even tried to embody the costume of an environmentalist with a guitar. I still am not very good at the guitar. I’ve dressed like Dana Scully from x-files because I wanted to be her. Now I have my eye on Jennifer Carpenter because so many people say I look like her.
What I have realized today is that while I am busy looking at all the attributes that I wish I possessed, someone is looking at me thinking the same thing. There are people who learn from me and consider me to be wise.
This past weekend I discovered that the way I see myself is not the way that other people see me. I see myself as conservative and kind of boring. Other people see me as anything but conservative. In the past week or so I have had several people refer to me as intense. They don’t mean it in the negative way...at least I don’t think they do. I think I can handle intense. And tonight a friend of mine while giving a speech referred to me as someone who she would like to be like. I was astounded. Seriously? There are people who want to be like me.
The next time I have a low self-confidence day I’m going to think about the fact that somewhere out there, someone is thinking that they would like to possess some of the qualities I possess...crazy.
Gosh darn it, people like me.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Excitement and Old Friends
So, the Gods have smiled down upon me. Or Henning and I are very lucky to have a good friend with lots of connections and talent. Henning and I are heading to the Blue skies Music Festival near Sharbot Lake. We have a house sitter and a cat sitter and all is right with the world.
There are several reasons why going to Blue Skies is exciting. I was first introduced to Blue Skies about six or seven years ago. Basically I’ve been attending since Henning and I started dating. So it is kind of one of our ‘things’. Also, our friends Alison and Angie introduced us to the fabulous people who work security at Blue Skies. Then we started volunteering as security backup people. Basically we would cook and keep the security site clean and organized. We would make sure that security people were fed and watered at appropriate intervals. There is constant music, friendly people, interesting people, great conversation and wonderful experiences. It is awesome.
Last year we didn’t get to go because we had an overabundance of weddings and we couldn’t afford to spend money on an expensive weekend. We still can’t. But we really haven’t done anything spectacular this summer and we both love this event. So, not making as large of payments on our credit cards seems worth it. Anyway, many of the people who we love to see, we have not seen in about two years. Sadly, one of our important friends is not able to attend. But we will be able to visit with everyone else. People have gotten engaged and married...people have bought houses...people have moved to different countries or provinces and then come back...people have gone on grand trips. People have changed careers, and added to their families. I am so excited to catch up.
Recently I also discovered that a long lost friend from my childhood will also be at Blue Skies. I feel like it is Christmas I am so excited. I think the last time I saw this woman, we were still under 18. I am somewhat worried that I will not be able to find her. But so far, things have gone really well in the planning and packing for this event so I am going to send out the positive thoughts that I will run into her.
*sigh*. I can’t wait. I am seriously like a kid on Christmas Eve.
There are several reasons why going to Blue Skies is exciting. I was first introduced to Blue Skies about six or seven years ago. Basically I’ve been attending since Henning and I started dating. So it is kind of one of our ‘things’. Also, our friends Alison and Angie introduced us to the fabulous people who work security at Blue Skies. Then we started volunteering as security backup people. Basically we would cook and keep the security site clean and organized. We would make sure that security people were fed and watered at appropriate intervals. There is constant music, friendly people, interesting people, great conversation and wonderful experiences. It is awesome.
Last year we didn’t get to go because we had an overabundance of weddings and we couldn’t afford to spend money on an expensive weekend. We still can’t. But we really haven’t done anything spectacular this summer and we both love this event. So, not making as large of payments on our credit cards seems worth it. Anyway, many of the people who we love to see, we have not seen in about two years. Sadly, one of our important friends is not able to attend. But we will be able to visit with everyone else. People have gotten engaged and married...people have bought houses...people have moved to different countries or provinces and then come back...people have gone on grand trips. People have changed careers, and added to their families. I am so excited to catch up.
Recently I also discovered that a long lost friend from my childhood will also be at Blue Skies. I feel like it is Christmas I am so excited. I think the last time I saw this woman, we were still under 18. I am somewhat worried that I will not be able to find her. But so far, things have gone really well in the planning and packing for this event so I am going to send out the positive thoughts that I will run into her.
*sigh*. I can’t wait. I am seriously like a kid on Christmas Eve.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Empowerment, Illusion and Reality
or: My Money and Me.
First of all I may have broken though my unmotivated funk! Last night I decided to stop worrying about the fact that I have been largely unproductive. I embraced my insomnia, didn’t panic and managed to use the time between 11pm and 3:30am to my advantage. I paid bills and budgeted last night. And, I have been thinking about money ever since. I haven’t been worrying about it. The second I started getting upset by my money I told myself to stop, and look. Everything is getting paid = victory, not a reason to be depressed.
Right now I am watching Gilmore Girls reruns. This is part of my summer afternoon routine. Gilmore Girls followed by Charmed and then I hit the sad and predictable soap opera circuit until Dr. Phil. It is today’s Gilmore Girls episode that has inspired my post today. I noticed that the main characters, Lorelai Gilmore and her Daughter Rory eat take out every single night. In fact, they never cook. They mention that they don’t use the kitchen for anything other than coffee regularly. The thing I am wondering is...how on earth does a single mother who manages a local inn afford to feed herself and her daughter though take-out and local diners for every meal? Not to mention, I love to eat out, but even I find that eating out for every mean over a weekend becomes tiring and I long for something made at little expense in my own kitchen. Sometimes I crave food that is not mass produced by people making a little over minimum wage. I know that media depicts a non-reality. However, this affects me profoundly when I have just recently budgeted.
My friend Evie budgeted me about two years ago and the results were amazing. When I stuck to it I felt free. I had a piece of paper that I kept track of all my spending on. Everything was in categories. It was a challenge. Being competitive by nature, I adore something that challenges me. I love it when I can enter my numbers into the computer and see what is going on. This is why I was so successful using weight watchers online. Their online system of tracking empowers me. Anyway, when Evie budgeted me I was able to pay everything and know I had money left over for debt reduction. I developed a very keen sense of how my money worked and how much I could afford to pay for groceries and eventually I naturally was able to live within my means. It was like training. Training that I had somehow missed while I was at university or when I was working two jobs in high school. I still wonder where all that money went. I didn’t buy a car; I didn’t save it to pay for school. I just spent it randomly, in the name of instant gratification. Until the last three or four years I always had a closet full of crap on sale. Every weekend I went to Kingston I shopped and spent money on things I liked but really didn’t need.
When Henning moved in and then we moved our money situation went into a weird flux. I had to adjust for feeding someone else. Our rent and expenses went up when we moved into the place we are now. I relaxed the grip and figured that it would take a little while for the numbers to solidify so that I could reconfigure the budget. Henning got a job and we lived for awhile under the idea that Henning’s money was the “fun money”. This worked for awhile until Henning’s work slowed and we went about three months without consistent pay. This resulted in us living beyond our means a bit. Now it has been a year. We got a little bit behind and it has taken us two months to catch up. Last night I successfully budgeted us out for the next few months.
The verdict: If I am diligent and stick to my plan I should be able to pay off all debt with the exception of the end of my Canada student loan before April of 2010. I actually look at the budget and wonder how I manage to run out of money each month. What on earth have I been spending money on? My guess is magazines and treats, pop, buying crap at the convenience store. Anyway, the point is, I can be successful at this and then, I could go on a vacation, or buy a house, or a new car. The stress of debt would be gone. I know that it is doable; I just have to see it as a competition.
I often worry about the fact that I haven’t really graduated into my parent’s ideal of adulthood. Although I am proud of aspects of my life there are others where I often feel I have failed miserably. Sometimes I like to think of myself as a bit of a late bloomer. I learn adult style lessons later than I should. However, when I watch television I realize that the ideal is very inaccurate. As an educated person I should already know this. I guess the balance for the unrealistic portrayal of money in a show like Gilmore Girls are shows like Till Debt Do Us Part. I am always astounded at how people get hundreds of thousand dollars in debt not including their mortgage. Then they think it is okay to go further into debt for another trendy vehicle. I don’t understand how people manage to live their lives like that. I would be in a constant state of upset, anxiety and generalized unhappiness. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is...at least I’m not as bad as some of the people I see on TV. Really, I have it under control.
Although, I am often told that control is an illusion. I think I want to keep my current illusion of my empowered reality - At least for today.
First of all I may have broken though my unmotivated funk! Last night I decided to stop worrying about the fact that I have been largely unproductive. I embraced my insomnia, didn’t panic and managed to use the time between 11pm and 3:30am to my advantage. I paid bills and budgeted last night. And, I have been thinking about money ever since. I haven’t been worrying about it. The second I started getting upset by my money I told myself to stop, and look. Everything is getting paid = victory, not a reason to be depressed.
Right now I am watching Gilmore Girls reruns. This is part of my summer afternoon routine. Gilmore Girls followed by Charmed and then I hit the sad and predictable soap opera circuit until Dr. Phil. It is today’s Gilmore Girls episode that has inspired my post today. I noticed that the main characters, Lorelai Gilmore and her Daughter Rory eat take out every single night. In fact, they never cook. They mention that they don’t use the kitchen for anything other than coffee regularly. The thing I am wondering is...how on earth does a single mother who manages a local inn afford to feed herself and her daughter though take-out and local diners for every meal? Not to mention, I love to eat out, but even I find that eating out for every mean over a weekend becomes tiring and I long for something made at little expense in my own kitchen. Sometimes I crave food that is not mass produced by people making a little over minimum wage. I know that media depicts a non-reality. However, this affects me profoundly when I have just recently budgeted.
My friend Evie budgeted me about two years ago and the results were amazing. When I stuck to it I felt free. I had a piece of paper that I kept track of all my spending on. Everything was in categories. It was a challenge. Being competitive by nature, I adore something that challenges me. I love it when I can enter my numbers into the computer and see what is going on. This is why I was so successful using weight watchers online. Their online system of tracking empowers me. Anyway, when Evie budgeted me I was able to pay everything and know I had money left over for debt reduction. I developed a very keen sense of how my money worked and how much I could afford to pay for groceries and eventually I naturally was able to live within my means. It was like training. Training that I had somehow missed while I was at university or when I was working two jobs in high school. I still wonder where all that money went. I didn’t buy a car; I didn’t save it to pay for school. I just spent it randomly, in the name of instant gratification. Until the last three or four years I always had a closet full of crap on sale. Every weekend I went to Kingston I shopped and spent money on things I liked but really didn’t need.
When Henning moved in and then we moved our money situation went into a weird flux. I had to adjust for feeding someone else. Our rent and expenses went up when we moved into the place we are now. I relaxed the grip and figured that it would take a little while for the numbers to solidify so that I could reconfigure the budget. Henning got a job and we lived for awhile under the idea that Henning’s money was the “fun money”. This worked for awhile until Henning’s work slowed and we went about three months without consistent pay. This resulted in us living beyond our means a bit. Now it has been a year. We got a little bit behind and it has taken us two months to catch up. Last night I successfully budgeted us out for the next few months.
The verdict: If I am diligent and stick to my plan I should be able to pay off all debt with the exception of the end of my Canada student loan before April of 2010. I actually look at the budget and wonder how I manage to run out of money each month. What on earth have I been spending money on? My guess is magazines and treats, pop, buying crap at the convenience store. Anyway, the point is, I can be successful at this and then, I could go on a vacation, or buy a house, or a new car. The stress of debt would be gone. I know that it is doable; I just have to see it as a competition.
I often worry about the fact that I haven’t really graduated into my parent’s ideal of adulthood. Although I am proud of aspects of my life there are others where I often feel I have failed miserably. Sometimes I like to think of myself as a bit of a late bloomer. I learn adult style lessons later than I should. However, when I watch television I realize that the ideal is very inaccurate. As an educated person I should already know this. I guess the balance for the unrealistic portrayal of money in a show like Gilmore Girls are shows like Till Debt Do Us Part. I am always astounded at how people get hundreds of thousand dollars in debt not including their mortgage. Then they think it is okay to go further into debt for another trendy vehicle. I don’t understand how people manage to live their lives like that. I would be in a constant state of upset, anxiety and generalized unhappiness. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is...at least I’m not as bad as some of the people I see on TV. Really, I have it under control.
Although, I am often told that control is an illusion. I think I want to keep my current illusion of my empowered reality - At least for today.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Confessions of a Crazy Person
I don’t deal well with stress apparently. But at the same time I think I just do it to myself. Yet I can’t seem to stop. Around October of this past school year I started having bizarre health issues. My eyes get all crazy bloodshot and I get horrendous headaches that last until I sleep a day away, I have strange tight chest, difficult to breathe, heart pounding type of situations. The first time the latter happened I thought maybe it was just worry or anxiety. Apparently this was the right guess. The second time it happened I ended up in the hospital all hooked up to various machines. This resulted in some tests and well, it looks like I don’t have a heart condition but in fact I am an anxiety fiend.
So I have taken some steps to help myself. I have a regular workout routine that I have been sticking with. For awhile I cut out all caffeine and stimulants. I’ve tried eating healthier, yoga etc. However, the fact remains that while on my summer vacation I am still feeling some anxiety.
For example, there are some things I need to do for work. I really need to do them. But I can’t seem to get up off my butt to do it. I sort of spend my day lazing around and thinking about the stuff I have to do, making a plan, and then not doing it. This isn’t just regular laziness either...it’s like a strange mental block. I just can’t do. The longer this goes on, the worse it gets. Every day I get up and think that I will accomplish some of what I have to do. Then I don’t...then I stress, then my heart starts to pound...and I sleep for a good four hours. And I get mean - probably because I feel badly about the fact that I’m not productive.
This is the other recent problem. I don’t sleep well. I can only sleep in three or four hour bursts. And it seems that I can only sleep well during the day. I don’t have a lot of interest in anything. I feel bored, yet there is nothing specific I want to do. I feel apathy, but at the same time wish I didn’t. I get frustrated with not doing anything, yet..I’m not motivated to do anything.
Short of being committed I really don’t see a solution in the near future. Time will continue to pass and I will get more stressed out by the day. I am currently finding it frustrating that the word caffeine is being underlined by my spell check. Yet I think that I have spelled it right. I need to get into the school because of a t-shirt ordering fiasco. And that has me so worried I can’t sleep.
Why do I allow myself to be all stressed out? Why do I procrastinate and make it all worse for myself? Why do I continually need to learn these lessons? Grrr. Usually a list makes me feel better. I make a list and then I can cross things off of it. I feel success then I get some of the things done. But right now, I can’t even bring myself to write a list. There is something smelly in my kitchen and I looked for it. I can’t figure out where it is coming from so I’ve given up. The smell in the kitchen is stressing me out.
I was wondering if I need some sort of medical/institutional intervention so I looked up my symptoms on the internet. This is always a good idea if you are already prone to being anxiety ridden. Look it up, because then you can have a whole new list of things to worry about. So I did. Yep, according to the internet I am anxiety-ridden and likely need to be medicated. Henning doesn’t think I should be medicated; he thinks that would just give me more to worry about.
I’m frustrated with people who say things like: “Just get it done” “Oh Katie life is too short, seriously” or something like “snap out of it”. If it were that easy, I’d be doing that. I’m not an unmotivated person; I’m not a slacker or someone who doesn’t meet their commitments. But I simply can’t get it together this time. I’m going to let people down.
I think I’ve been totally burnt out. I was hoping that after four or five weeks of vacation I might be able to feel uplifted etc. apparently not. Furthermore, I am sitting her with the smell in the kitchen wafting past me and getting really upset that I can’t find the source of the damn stench. I sense a total bleaching in the cards. I just hope I can get motivated to do it.
I confess, I’m a crazy person. Maybe, with the amount of summer vacation left I might get my head on straight and find my inspiration or motivation to get things done.
So I have taken some steps to help myself. I have a regular workout routine that I have been sticking with. For awhile I cut out all caffeine and stimulants. I’ve tried eating healthier, yoga etc. However, the fact remains that while on my summer vacation I am still feeling some anxiety.
For example, there are some things I need to do for work. I really need to do them. But I can’t seem to get up off my butt to do it. I sort of spend my day lazing around and thinking about the stuff I have to do, making a plan, and then not doing it. This isn’t just regular laziness either...it’s like a strange mental block. I just can’t do. The longer this goes on, the worse it gets. Every day I get up and think that I will accomplish some of what I have to do. Then I don’t...then I stress, then my heart starts to pound...and I sleep for a good four hours. And I get mean - probably because I feel badly about the fact that I’m not productive.
This is the other recent problem. I don’t sleep well. I can only sleep in three or four hour bursts. And it seems that I can only sleep well during the day. I don’t have a lot of interest in anything. I feel bored, yet there is nothing specific I want to do. I feel apathy, but at the same time wish I didn’t. I get frustrated with not doing anything, yet..I’m not motivated to do anything.
Short of being committed I really don’t see a solution in the near future. Time will continue to pass and I will get more stressed out by the day. I am currently finding it frustrating that the word caffeine is being underlined by my spell check. Yet I think that I have spelled it right. I need to get into the school because of a t-shirt ordering fiasco. And that has me so worried I can’t sleep.
Why do I allow myself to be all stressed out? Why do I procrastinate and make it all worse for myself? Why do I continually need to learn these lessons? Grrr. Usually a list makes me feel better. I make a list and then I can cross things off of it. I feel success then I get some of the things done. But right now, I can’t even bring myself to write a list. There is something smelly in my kitchen and I looked for it. I can’t figure out where it is coming from so I’ve given up. The smell in the kitchen is stressing me out.
I was wondering if I need some sort of medical/institutional intervention so I looked up my symptoms on the internet. This is always a good idea if you are already prone to being anxiety ridden. Look it up, because then you can have a whole new list of things to worry about. So I did. Yep, according to the internet I am anxiety-ridden and likely need to be medicated. Henning doesn’t think I should be medicated; he thinks that would just give me more to worry about.
I’m frustrated with people who say things like: “Just get it done” “Oh Katie life is too short, seriously” or something like “snap out of it”. If it were that easy, I’d be doing that. I’m not an unmotivated person; I’m not a slacker or someone who doesn’t meet their commitments. But I simply can’t get it together this time. I’m going to let people down.
I think I’ve been totally burnt out. I was hoping that after four or five weeks of vacation I might be able to feel uplifted etc. apparently not. Furthermore, I am sitting her with the smell in the kitchen wafting past me and getting really upset that I can’t find the source of the damn stench. I sense a total bleaching in the cards. I just hope I can get motivated to do it.
I confess, I’m a crazy person. Maybe, with the amount of summer vacation left I might get my head on straight and find my inspiration or motivation to get things done.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Crap
So, I haven’t written in awhile. I have realized that sometimes I just don’t have anything interesting or inspiring to ponder. I would love to be one of those people who can blog every day and have something significant to contribute to the world but alas, I understand my limitations. That’s not meant to be depressing or self-deprecating. I might just be going through a mid-life crisis. Today I am reflecting on a myriad of topics. I’m actually not sure that I can pull them together into a sort of engaging epiphany that is my usual style of blog. Ah well. Perhaps today I am just not at my best.
I think the first thing that I am pondering is that I only have so many topics that I think about and that I need to express in order to work through. Honestly, if you have read my blog at all, you pretty much have the sum total of what I think about on a regular basis. Well, excluding current pop culture and Star Wars analysis – but no one really wants to read about that. So really, the total of my thoughts can be summed up rather simply:
1. How can I improve my physical appearance, or accept what I’ve got?
2. Money Sucks and by extension so does everything that costs me money.
3. Talking myself into believing that I am above my past history.
Throw in a few references to education and rants about bureaucracy and you have the total of what I think about. I’m not sure how I feel about that. In some ways it makes me feel a bit shallow or at the very least a bit boring.
I visited a web site today during my dull vacation (see 2). It was called Right To Play (http://www.righttoplay.com/site/PageServer) Anyway, it is a neat organization that tries to help developing nations with difficulties such as HIV/AIDs and education through the use of sport. Evidently there are many Olympic athletes involved with this charity. One can volunteer to work with this organization. It looked really cool. Anyway, I mention this because I’m interested even though I am not into a specific sport. However, recently I have longed to be an athlete (see 1). I just thought this site was really cool and I’ve been thinking all day about a way to incorporate it into some of the things I teach. For example, with the push for character education initiatives surely getting the school involved with a group such as this would be exciting. I think though that I am a bit jaded because when I think of all the red-tape involved with getting involved with an organization such as this...(insert rant about bureaucracy here) Ah well, check it out.
Another focus I have had lately is The 30 Day Shred. Here is someone else who describes it well (http://ashisfit.blogspot.com/2008/07/30-day-shred-review.html). If you search around on the internet you can find some before and after pictures that demonstrate that this video really works. I can tell you that it is killer, but that it is a fantastic workout. You actually do see results fairly quickly. However, it is not for those who want results with little effort. This baby is something you have to be ready to do. You will hurt and you will seriously sweat. You can’t do it half-assed. I love it. Seriously. And I loathe working out, but this makes me feel powerful. Hey, I’m all about the praise and the challenge. If you are competitive like me you will find that this video makes you want to prove you can do it. In about 15-20 days or so I may have the courage to post my before and after pictures.
This is one of my more unfocussed posts. However, I recently found out that my Dad has to go in for more heart tests and procedures at the end of August. This stresses me out significantly. I’m trying desperately to cope better with stress but lately, even though I am on vacation I am not dealing with these things well. Between worry about that and the concern about the work I have to do before school starts I am starting to feel ill. I am also going to miss important parts of the week before school starts because I am going to accompany my family to these tests. I am not complaining about being there for my Mom and Dad when they need me, not at all. That is what I have to do. Let’s face it if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t accomplish much those days anyway, because I’d be worried. I just have to be prepared to accept that there are things that I am not going to be able to participate in or complete during the week before school. I need to not feel personally responsible for that. Life and family comes before my job...and I can’t ,or rather, shouldn’t feel badly when important things in my life mean that I can’t complete /participate in things at work in a perfect way. However, just thinking about that gets my heart-rate up and I start to feel the beginnings of anxiety. Obviously, I need better coping skills.
For my last unfocussed moment, I just watched a home alarm system commercial. Talk about fear inducing. There is a home, and expensive home in a nice neighbourhood somewhere in the states. This home looks like something that only a high-powered executive could afford, or a dual – income family where both breadwinners are doctors. It is obviously landscaped by a gardener. The husband leaves for work and sets the home alarm. A suspicious looking guy dressed in a black workout suit, with a buzz type haircut waits outside for the husband to leave. Once the husband has done so and the Stepford wife and her perfectly coiffed daughter have a quiet moment, the suspicious criminal kicks down the door and the alarm goes off. Thanks to the alarm the mother and daughter can run up the stairs to answer the phone and tell the alarm company what has just happened. The criminal is scared away by the loud noises and all is well. I wonder how often this happens. Talk about selling fear. I won’t even get into the underlying messages in this commercial. Oh okay I will. How about the fact that in this upper class neighbourhood even the criminals are white males who are athletic and well coiffed? How about the fact that the people living in this home definitely fit the rich suburban white stereotype? People who make less money and who live in smaller, more modest homes are not at risk for home invasion by the way. Interestingly enough people who are not white who live in this area are not at risk for home invasion either. Oh, and by the way, apparently this alarm system will contribute to your family being well adjusted and happy...no yelling at the breakfast table. Furthermore, this is an American company. Why would you need an alarm system...don’t they all own guns to protect their property? (Bad, bad blogger and Michael Moore fan.)
Do you see what 1, 2, and 3 has led to?
I think the first thing that I am pondering is that I only have so many topics that I think about and that I need to express in order to work through. Honestly, if you have read my blog at all, you pretty much have the sum total of what I think about on a regular basis. Well, excluding current pop culture and Star Wars analysis – but no one really wants to read about that. So really, the total of my thoughts can be summed up rather simply:
1. How can I improve my physical appearance, or accept what I’ve got?
2. Money Sucks and by extension so does everything that costs me money.
3. Talking myself into believing that I am above my past history.
Throw in a few references to education and rants about bureaucracy and you have the total of what I think about. I’m not sure how I feel about that. In some ways it makes me feel a bit shallow or at the very least a bit boring.
I visited a web site today during my dull vacation (see 2). It was called Right To Play (http://www.righttoplay.com/site/PageServer) Anyway, it is a neat organization that tries to help developing nations with difficulties such as HIV/AIDs and education through the use of sport. Evidently there are many Olympic athletes involved with this charity. One can volunteer to work with this organization. It looked really cool. Anyway, I mention this because I’m interested even though I am not into a specific sport. However, recently I have longed to be an athlete (see 1). I just thought this site was really cool and I’ve been thinking all day about a way to incorporate it into some of the things I teach. For example, with the push for character education initiatives surely getting the school involved with a group such as this would be exciting. I think though that I am a bit jaded because when I think of all the red-tape involved with getting involved with an organization such as this...(insert rant about bureaucracy here) Ah well, check it out.
Another focus I have had lately is The 30 Day Shred. Here is someone else who describes it well (http://ashisfit.blogspot.com/2008/07/30-day-shred-review.html). If you search around on the internet you can find some before and after pictures that demonstrate that this video really works. I can tell you that it is killer, but that it is a fantastic workout. You actually do see results fairly quickly. However, it is not for those who want results with little effort. This baby is something you have to be ready to do. You will hurt and you will seriously sweat. You can’t do it half-assed. I love it. Seriously. And I loathe working out, but this makes me feel powerful. Hey, I’m all about the praise and the challenge. If you are competitive like me you will find that this video makes you want to prove you can do it. In about 15-20 days or so I may have the courage to post my before and after pictures.
This is one of my more unfocussed posts. However, I recently found out that my Dad has to go in for more heart tests and procedures at the end of August. This stresses me out significantly. I’m trying desperately to cope better with stress but lately, even though I am on vacation I am not dealing with these things well. Between worry about that and the concern about the work I have to do before school starts I am starting to feel ill. I am also going to miss important parts of the week before school starts because I am going to accompany my family to these tests. I am not complaining about being there for my Mom and Dad when they need me, not at all. That is what I have to do. Let’s face it if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t accomplish much those days anyway, because I’d be worried. I just have to be prepared to accept that there are things that I am not going to be able to participate in or complete during the week before school. I need to not feel personally responsible for that. Life and family comes before my job...and I can’t ,or rather, shouldn’t feel badly when important things in my life mean that I can’t complete /participate in things at work in a perfect way. However, just thinking about that gets my heart-rate up and I start to feel the beginnings of anxiety. Obviously, I need better coping skills.
For my last unfocussed moment, I just watched a home alarm system commercial. Talk about fear inducing. There is a home, and expensive home in a nice neighbourhood somewhere in the states. This home looks like something that only a high-powered executive could afford, or a dual – income family where both breadwinners are doctors. It is obviously landscaped by a gardener. The husband leaves for work and sets the home alarm. A suspicious looking guy dressed in a black workout suit, with a buzz type haircut waits outside for the husband to leave. Once the husband has done so and the Stepford wife and her perfectly coiffed daughter have a quiet moment, the suspicious criminal kicks down the door and the alarm goes off. Thanks to the alarm the mother and daughter can run up the stairs to answer the phone and tell the alarm company what has just happened. The criminal is scared away by the loud noises and all is well. I wonder how often this happens. Talk about selling fear. I won’t even get into the underlying messages in this commercial. Oh okay I will. How about the fact that in this upper class neighbourhood even the criminals are white males who are athletic and well coiffed? How about the fact that the people living in this home definitely fit the rich suburban white stereotype? People who make less money and who live in smaller, more modest homes are not at risk for home invasion by the way. Interestingly enough people who are not white who live in this area are not at risk for home invasion either. Oh, and by the way, apparently this alarm system will contribute to your family being well adjusted and happy...no yelling at the breakfast table. Furthermore, this is an American company. Why would you need an alarm system...don’t they all own guns to protect their property? (Bad, bad blogger and Michael Moore fan.)
Do you see what 1, 2, and 3 has led to?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Thoughts of MJ.
It was not warm enough to have not put a coat on to go out for recess. Yet some of the older kids were walking around in the early spring sun in only thin cotton t-shirts. I held my skipping rope hoping that some of the girls would want to play with me, include me in their games. I couldn’t play double-dutch. I wasn’t good at it. But I could play all the other rope games. The fact that I had my own rope means they would have to let me play.
A tall boy, definitely at least in grade five came around the corner. He had a large silver-grey old-style boom-box on his shoulder. Everyone was following him. It was like the pied piper. The music that echoed throughout the schoolyard was inspiring. It was catchy. The songs told stories. In that moment, as I followed the sounds of Thriller , I became aware of music.
Later I danced to Thriller for my grandmother. I blasted that music on my small red tape-player that lasted me until university. I remember pepsi commercials. I had a blue and black tracksuit from k-mart that resembled the jacket that MJ wore in Thriller. I remember that video being one of the most fantastic things I had ever seen. It was terribly frightening for someone my age, but I still forced myself to watch it in awe.
The song We Are The World was the song that first impressed upon me the need to have a social conscience. It was a magical demonstration that made me, as a child, feel like the world was a good place.
Although later in my life I found out that Michael Jackson had terrible misfortune befall him, demonstrated some eccentric behaviours, and allegedly was a predator. I still feel that he was a part of my development. His music is something I hear and I remember my childhood. I smile.
For today, as I watch the memorial I will silently thank him for that spring day, when I was included as part of a group, inspired by the same music. The day I didn’t have to ask to play.
A tall boy, definitely at least in grade five came around the corner. He had a large silver-grey old-style boom-box on his shoulder. Everyone was following him. It was like the pied piper. The music that echoed throughout the schoolyard was inspiring. It was catchy. The songs told stories. In that moment, as I followed the sounds of Thriller , I became aware of music.
Later I danced to Thriller for my grandmother. I blasted that music on my small red tape-player that lasted me until university. I remember pepsi commercials. I had a blue and black tracksuit from k-mart that resembled the jacket that MJ wore in Thriller. I remember that video being one of the most fantastic things I had ever seen. It was terribly frightening for someone my age, but I still forced myself to watch it in awe.
The song We Are The World was the song that first impressed upon me the need to have a social conscience. It was a magical demonstration that made me, as a child, feel like the world was a good place.
Although later in my life I found out that Michael Jackson had terrible misfortune befall him, demonstrated some eccentric behaviours, and allegedly was a predator. I still feel that he was a part of my development. His music is something I hear and I remember my childhood. I smile.
For today, as I watch the memorial I will silently thank him for that spring day, when I was included as part of a group, inspired by the same music. The day I didn’t have to ask to play.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Waiting
My car is sick. I mean that in the literal sense of the word, not the cool modern sense of the word. It is an SUV – so it is definitely NOT cool. It sort of makes me a soccer mom with one small problem, I have no kids.
Anyway, I bought this vehicle approximately seven years ago. When I bought it I wanted it. I thought that it was cool. I had always wanted an SUV. And hey, I lived in Bancroft, close to Algonquin Park and I wasn’t one of those crazy people who buy big SUVs and live in the city. I need the all wheel drive and ability to avoid ditches and tow stuff. The fact remains that when I bought it, I couldn’t afford it. This is why I’ve had to pay it out over an extreme amount of time. And it is also why car repairs freak me out. I still have an awfully high car payment that makes it difficult to pay for fixing. Now, given that the vehicle is approximately 7 years old, it is due for a round of repair...and I will start noticing that I will have to put more and more money in to my silver beast.
The good news is that I make my last enormous car payment in October – so I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The bad news is that the car is in pretty rough shape. Currently, it threatens not to stop when I brake. Okay, it just doesn’t stop well. It sort of haltingly comes to a stop. This is a clear indication that I need a brake job...at least in the front end. Someone told me when this started that it was just a warped rotor. However, I am concerned that having left it so long has resulted in a seized or broken calliper. In fact, when I turn right and use the brake there is an unpleasant sound that resembles speaker feedback. That is the sound that worries me the most.
I tend to be a car hypochondriac. Every sound and bump worries me. So I take it in, and while it is in, I worry excessively about how much it will cost. Truthfully, I have a fantastic mechanic. It is a small family run business who bills you for your repairs at the end of the month and who know you by what you drive. I called this morning and said “Hi it’s Kate Cockburn calling” and the mechanic replied, “Ahh and you have a Santa Fe.” Then I tried to explain the halting stop and the feedback sound and I always feel really silly doing that. I think that mechanics should video tape people describing what is wrong with their vehicles. I’m sure that I would star in several of them – it could be a t.v. show like America’s funniest home videos.
Anyway, now I sit here. The car has been at the shop since 8am. It is now 1pm. I feel like an anxious parent or family member waiting for someone to exit surgery. I’m not sure if the surgery will work or if the someone will be able to function like they once did. This car is something I use every day; it allows me connection to the outside world, namely, the city; movies and shopping, visiting friends. To me it is a lifeline, not simply a luxury item. It is also the first big item I was able to purchase all by myself. Even if it was a poor financial decision, the car and I have history. I even have accepted the fact that the car will not ever be able to be a traded in. It is far too beaten up to ever get my money out of it. I’m sure that any car dealer that saw it coming would wonder how the hell they would ever be able to get it off the lot.
But it is mine. The beast is mine. It is a symbol of my adulthood. It is also a symptom of my adulthood. It is the reminder to always call my father before I spend a bunch of money on something. As much as I hate to admit that I have to do that...this adult knows where her weaknesses are. It is one material possession that straddles my two very distinct life paths. It has been part of an end and it has helped me have new beginnings. It has moved people out of my life and into my life. This vehicle has known two incarnations of me. It not only is my lifeline, but it is also a monument, a history of my travel into my adult life. So, really, why am I so worried about cost of repair? I have weathered far more expensive moments. So I will wait in anticipation, because repair, whatever the monetary cost will only serve to allow my car to valiantly drive me into my future. Perhaps one day it will realize its image and I will have car seats and soccer balls, ice-cream stained seats and goldfish crackers on the floor. Or, maybe it won’t. Maybe it will be like me...unsuspected, not what you think. Following a different road to get to my destination – because, that makes all the difference.
Anyway, I bought this vehicle approximately seven years ago. When I bought it I wanted it. I thought that it was cool. I had always wanted an SUV. And hey, I lived in Bancroft, close to Algonquin Park and I wasn’t one of those crazy people who buy big SUVs and live in the city. I need the all wheel drive and ability to avoid ditches and tow stuff. The fact remains that when I bought it, I couldn’t afford it. This is why I’ve had to pay it out over an extreme amount of time. And it is also why car repairs freak me out. I still have an awfully high car payment that makes it difficult to pay for fixing. Now, given that the vehicle is approximately 7 years old, it is due for a round of repair...and I will start noticing that I will have to put more and more money in to my silver beast.
The good news is that I make my last enormous car payment in October – so I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The bad news is that the car is in pretty rough shape. Currently, it threatens not to stop when I brake. Okay, it just doesn’t stop well. It sort of haltingly comes to a stop. This is a clear indication that I need a brake job...at least in the front end. Someone told me when this started that it was just a warped rotor. However, I am concerned that having left it so long has resulted in a seized or broken calliper. In fact, when I turn right and use the brake there is an unpleasant sound that resembles speaker feedback. That is the sound that worries me the most.
I tend to be a car hypochondriac. Every sound and bump worries me. So I take it in, and while it is in, I worry excessively about how much it will cost. Truthfully, I have a fantastic mechanic. It is a small family run business who bills you for your repairs at the end of the month and who know you by what you drive. I called this morning and said “Hi it’s Kate Cockburn calling” and the mechanic replied, “Ahh and you have a Santa Fe.” Then I tried to explain the halting stop and the feedback sound and I always feel really silly doing that. I think that mechanics should video tape people describing what is wrong with their vehicles. I’m sure that I would star in several of them – it could be a t.v. show like America’s funniest home videos.
Anyway, now I sit here. The car has been at the shop since 8am. It is now 1pm. I feel like an anxious parent or family member waiting for someone to exit surgery. I’m not sure if the surgery will work or if the someone will be able to function like they once did. This car is something I use every day; it allows me connection to the outside world, namely, the city; movies and shopping, visiting friends. To me it is a lifeline, not simply a luxury item. It is also the first big item I was able to purchase all by myself. Even if it was a poor financial decision, the car and I have history. I even have accepted the fact that the car will not ever be able to be a traded in. It is far too beaten up to ever get my money out of it. I’m sure that any car dealer that saw it coming would wonder how the hell they would ever be able to get it off the lot.
But it is mine. The beast is mine. It is a symbol of my adulthood. It is also a symptom of my adulthood. It is the reminder to always call my father before I spend a bunch of money on something. As much as I hate to admit that I have to do that...this adult knows where her weaknesses are. It is one material possession that straddles my two very distinct life paths. It has been part of an end and it has helped me have new beginnings. It has moved people out of my life and into my life. This vehicle has known two incarnations of me. It not only is my lifeline, but it is also a monument, a history of my travel into my adult life. So, really, why am I so worried about cost of repair? I have weathered far more expensive moments. So I will wait in anticipation, because repair, whatever the monetary cost will only serve to allow my car to valiantly drive me into my future. Perhaps one day it will realize its image and I will have car seats and soccer balls, ice-cream stained seats and goldfish crackers on the floor. Or, maybe it won’t. Maybe it will be like me...unsuspected, not what you think. Following a different road to get to my destination – because, that makes all the difference.
Friday, July 3, 2009
May I return...to the beginning
I’ve stated before that every moment in my life has led me to exactly the point I am now. I would not want to change where I am now. I like it here. Granted, I tend to take the long way or the hard way round to get to my goals, but I eventually do get there. Hopefully, the journey has made all the difference. I know for a fact that I am a better person now than I was in my twenties, and I am definitely better now than I was in my teens. When I say better, I mean that I treat people better and think about my actions before I act...usually.
There are some incarnations of myself in the past that I would rather forget. However there are also aspects of my past self that I would like to recapture. I would like to possess the fearlessness I had when I was a kid. I would like to look at a chain link fence and feel confident about attempting to climb over it, instead of walking around. I wish for the courage to hop a creek. So what if I get wet. It’s like I’ve been conditioned to over-think things now. I would like to be more carefree...I would like to be able to wildly party like I could in my university days. I want to want to party or let loose. Now a reckless evening involves staying up way too late watching a movie, reading a book or playing my video game.
I would not want to revisit some of my less flattering hair experiences. Or my late Goth phase. In retrospect, you don’t start looking funny costuming yourself as a dark minion of evil when you are 26. You (okay I can’t speak for everyone, I) look funny doing it anytime over about 20. I have to give kudos to my parents on that one...they knew it but didn’t say anything. I don’t ever want to be someone who doesn’t value themselves again. I am proud that I learned that you have to demand to be valued by others. I think the most important thing I learned from my past selves was that I have no one to blame for how I’ve been treated by others but myself. One can blame circumstances, other people, other people’s personalities or shortcomings, other people’s flaws...or the ‘natural’ state of something. But the fact remains that it is you who made the decisions that lead you to be treated badly.
That’s not to say that I think that people who have been violently victimized cause their own trauma. But in terms of relationships with friends or lovers, people will treat you at the standard you accept.
This is why often the past can make people angry. Usually one focuses this anger on a person, like an ex-friend or ex-boyfriend. I find this is very true in large social groups. It is easier to be angry with the person who treated you badly. I’m not saying that there isn’t some blame due in that direction if someone has wronged you...but, if they have wronged you repeatedly and you were unable to see that you were selling yourself short...it results in misplaced anger. That anger manifests itself as obsession, gossip, and all sorts of behaviour that in reality is – you treating yourself badly. And that is unforgiveable. Behaving in a way that makes you feel like you are a bad person means that you are not holding yourself to a decent standard of care. I am guilty of this still sometimes.
But my journey the long way round has taught me some important things. I can hold myself to a standard of behaviour, a set of morals that allow me to meet my definition of a good person. I’ve learned that when dealing in financial matters ‘want’ cannot overpower what actually is your financial reality. And, if you let it, you end up in a long term mess. Similarly, if you allow people to take too much of yourself, lend out too many pieces of yourself – it takes a long time to pay yourself back. I guess learning these things has resulted in the cautiousness I practice when faced with a chain link fence or a creek. The fearlessness is tempered with experiences and what you are willing to risk changes. You recognize that although hopping a creek should be easy, you know if you misstep you will have to sit in your wet clothes...and perhaps get a rash. I don’t think I deserve a rash.
There are some incarnations of myself in the past that I would rather forget. However there are also aspects of my past self that I would like to recapture. I would like to possess the fearlessness I had when I was a kid. I would like to look at a chain link fence and feel confident about attempting to climb over it, instead of walking around. I wish for the courage to hop a creek. So what if I get wet. It’s like I’ve been conditioned to over-think things now. I would like to be more carefree...I would like to be able to wildly party like I could in my university days. I want to want to party or let loose. Now a reckless evening involves staying up way too late watching a movie, reading a book or playing my video game.
I would not want to revisit some of my less flattering hair experiences. Or my late Goth phase. In retrospect, you don’t start looking funny costuming yourself as a dark minion of evil when you are 26. You (okay I can’t speak for everyone, I) look funny doing it anytime over about 20. I have to give kudos to my parents on that one...they knew it but didn’t say anything. I don’t ever want to be someone who doesn’t value themselves again. I am proud that I learned that you have to demand to be valued by others. I think the most important thing I learned from my past selves was that I have no one to blame for how I’ve been treated by others but myself. One can blame circumstances, other people, other people’s personalities or shortcomings, other people’s flaws...or the ‘natural’ state of something. But the fact remains that it is you who made the decisions that lead you to be treated badly.
That’s not to say that I think that people who have been violently victimized cause their own trauma. But in terms of relationships with friends or lovers, people will treat you at the standard you accept.
This is why often the past can make people angry. Usually one focuses this anger on a person, like an ex-friend or ex-boyfriend. I find this is very true in large social groups. It is easier to be angry with the person who treated you badly. I’m not saying that there isn’t some blame due in that direction if someone has wronged you...but, if they have wronged you repeatedly and you were unable to see that you were selling yourself short...it results in misplaced anger. That anger manifests itself as obsession, gossip, and all sorts of behaviour that in reality is – you treating yourself badly. And that is unforgiveable. Behaving in a way that makes you feel like you are a bad person means that you are not holding yourself to a decent standard of care. I am guilty of this still sometimes.
But my journey the long way round has taught me some important things. I can hold myself to a standard of behaviour, a set of morals that allow me to meet my definition of a good person. I’ve learned that when dealing in financial matters ‘want’ cannot overpower what actually is your financial reality. And, if you let it, you end up in a long term mess. Similarly, if you allow people to take too much of yourself, lend out too many pieces of yourself – it takes a long time to pay yourself back. I guess learning these things has resulted in the cautiousness I practice when faced with a chain link fence or a creek. The fearlessness is tempered with experiences and what you are willing to risk changes. You recognize that although hopping a creek should be easy, you know if you misstep you will have to sit in your wet clothes...and perhaps get a rash. I don’t think I deserve a rash.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Rainy Day Vacation Ramblings...or a computer, some chips and some coke.
Most of the female friends I have are hard on themselves. I'm not really surprised, people tend to attract people they have something in common with..and well, I'm hard on myself too. For example, I spend an awful lot of time worrying about the way I look. Call it vanity. That, after all, is what it really is.
I worry about my size and by extention my weight. I worry about my size to the point that I am concerned about the size of my head. That may seem really strange, but whatever body dysmorphic problem I have, it seems to focus on two places - my head/jaw and my butt. I admit that I practice taking pictures of myself to find the exact angle that my head does not look huge. (I am briefly reminded of a Mike Myers film...look at the size of his noggin...it's huge ) Seriously. Like most women I know, I worry about the size of my butt.
Lets talk about my butt for a minute. It is decidedly difficult to find pants that fit my butt well. But is that really my butt's issue...or is it the fact that very few clothing designers create pants made to flatter the curves of women who have ass-sets? I hear this complaint often. It seems that unless one is 16 years old and hipless, pants were not made for you. So, this again brings me to the idea that because sooo many women complain of this problem, and we spend only one or two years of our lives with the bodies of 16 year olds, my butt should be absolved of all charges.
After all, it does it's job. I can sit on in comfortably, it boogies well on a dancefloor, it looks somewhat sexy in lingiere..and it does all of the biological things that butts do. It has smooth soft skin...why would I complain about my butt. Seriously. Why would I let clothes make me feel bad about my unique physique - the physique that I have been told by people is attractive.
Now, perhaps these people are lying. I mean let's face it, all of us answer our friends and say, "what are you talking about, you look great.." or some other phrase when someone is being self-depricating. Do people really always look great? Or have we now desensitised ourselvess so much to the question that we can't answer it honestly? I am going to hope that it is really the case that everyone looks great. I was recently at a party where a woman was wearing a provocatively short skirt. She had fantastic legs...and a fantastic ass-set. In fact when she bent over or some wind caught her skirt you were able to see exactly how glorious her legs and rear were. I want to wear clothes with abandon...without worry...I want the confidence to claim my short skirt, show off my ass-sets and hold my head up proud. (Okay maybe not to that extreme...as I am a teacher and showing off my ass-sets is not appropriate - but a skirt above the knee...a swimsuit in public would be good steps)
I am 33 years old...and I look HOT. Seriously. I look at other people who are around my age and I think, wow I look awesome. I have a strong body. I have a curvy body. I have parts of my body that look better than some 16 year olds. I know how to dress my body for its best parts. I haven't had kids so I haven't had to deal with the body fallout from that...and I know from talking with friends of mine who are parents that you look at your body differently when you have children. I haven't had children, I might not ever have children. I need to feel good about my non-reproducing 30 some odd year physique and be proud.
I am not Jennifer Garner or Angelina Jolie. My livelihood does not rest upon my red carpet appearances. So, I should not feel that I have to work out 4 hours a day minimum and eat only raw foods. My living is made mainly from my brain...so I need to start working it out...and THINKING. So, I guess I even need to appreciate my big head which houses my big brain. Maybe I should take pictures that emphasize my enormous head...embrace it...own it...
Hey world this is my awesome big head.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Procrastination and Cleaning
The truth is that I despearately need to clean my house. I feel better when it is clean. I'm happier...I feel like life is in control.
However, I cannot seem to bring myself to clean the damn thing. Seriously. I'm going to have to work naked because I simply can't bring myself to do laundry. I'm likely to get some sort of disease from my kitchen. :(
*sigh* Well perhaps I will rise from my mound of filth and write again.
However, I cannot seem to bring myself to clean the damn thing. Seriously. I'm going to have to work naked because I simply can't bring myself to do laundry. I'm likely to get some sort of disease from my kitchen. :(
*sigh* Well perhaps I will rise from my mound of filth and write again.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Henning wants me to write about him.
"You can't say that I want you to do that." - Henning.
There was a whole interesting post here but then the computer hiccuped..or farted..and it disappeared. :(
Have you ever written something and then been forced to rewrite it? It is never as good the second time around. The words might fit together in a more fluid way, but some of the initial artistry of 'in the moment writing' is lost. It is like plagarisim, because once you have already written it, with no intention of editing it, re-writing it is like cheating. It loses its authenticity.
In anycase, the title of this post and the beginning quote would suggest that the post that did originally exist here had soemthing to do with Henning's desire to be a constant topic of my blog. In truth, he wants me to write about how wonderful he is. Don't worry, he doesn't have some sort of inflated ego. He is actually wonderful. However, I think that initially he would like me to write about him. Until of course, he does something that is not particualarly wonderful. You know what I'm talking about. We all have our less than wonderful moments. The people we live with get to see us at our best and at our worst. I don't think Henning really wants me to have him as the singular topic of my blog. For example, if he were to write a blog in which I were the target, he would be posting lies if he didn't paint the whole picutre of me. I mean I can be pretty terrible. That's not to say that he can be terrible..but lets face it..there are some aspects of people that should not be published. Like his.... hehe you actually thought I would go ahead and post a flaw here. Nope, I like my relationship thanks.
Know he wants me to write about him...and that he is wonderful. :)
There was a whole interesting post here but then the computer hiccuped..or farted..and it disappeared. :(
Have you ever written something and then been forced to rewrite it? It is never as good the second time around. The words might fit together in a more fluid way, but some of the initial artistry of 'in the moment writing' is lost. It is like plagarisim, because once you have already written it, with no intention of editing it, re-writing it is like cheating. It loses its authenticity.
In anycase, the title of this post and the beginning quote would suggest that the post that did originally exist here had soemthing to do with Henning's desire to be a constant topic of my blog. In truth, he wants me to write about how wonderful he is. Don't worry, he doesn't have some sort of inflated ego. He is actually wonderful. However, I think that initially he would like me to write about him. Until of course, he does something that is not particualarly wonderful. You know what I'm talking about. We all have our less than wonderful moments. The people we live with get to see us at our best and at our worst. I don't think Henning really wants me to have him as the singular topic of my blog. For example, if he were to write a blog in which I were the target, he would be posting lies if he didn't paint the whole picutre of me. I mean I can be pretty terrible. That's not to say that he can be terrible..but lets face it..there are some aspects of people that should not be published. Like his.... hehe you actually thought I would go ahead and post a flaw here. Nope, I like my relationship thanks.
Know he wants me to write about him...and that he is wonderful. :)
Monday, May 11, 2009
No one reads this but...
Well, it has been almost a year. No one got at all upset at the idea that I wasn't writing. Perhaps I ought to change my privacy settings.
So once again, I am waring with age, weight, and appearance in general. I really do hope that one day I feel really really good about the way I look. I don't mean to be depressing, but sometimes I think that my best looking years are long past..and it sucks because I didn't make the most of them. I think it is cruel that you don't learn all the tricks of looking good until you no longer look good.
Anyway, I'm exercising, following weight watchers as best I can. Although I am worried about this next week. I'm away for a few days this week. That never goes well. So I'm figuring a gain this week and a gain next week. It is too bad because I was just starting to feel good. I even got a compliment today. :).
Well...goodnight.
So once again, I am waring with age, weight, and appearance in general. I really do hope that one day I feel really really good about the way I look. I don't mean to be depressing, but sometimes I think that my best looking years are long past..and it sucks because I didn't make the most of them. I think it is cruel that you don't learn all the tricks of looking good until you no longer look good.
Anyway, I'm exercising, following weight watchers as best I can. Although I am worried about this next week. I'm away for a few days this week. That never goes well. So I'm figuring a gain this week and a gain next week. It is too bad because I was just starting to feel good. I even got a compliment today. :).
Well...goodnight.
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