To Live An Extraordinary Life

One day it will be helpful for me to remember...

2019-07-09T23:41:00.001-04:00

... that yesterday on my Monday night run with the Running Room, six weeks into the Learn to Run program, I finally had a run that felt really great.

It was our first run of 5:1 +2, the temperature had broken from where it had been the last couple of weeks, the music on my headset was the right tempo, my legs seemed to finally be accustomed to my calf sleeves, and the calf sleeves seem to be working well at preventing my shin pain. It was the moment where the lightbulb came on, and things came together, I was able to actually push my lungs rather than my legs, and it all just felt really great.

Past self, future self, are you listening? Six weeks before it felt right, even when you started at the very beginning. Six weeks, a trip to the RMT, a set of running shoes and a set of compression sleeves later and it finally feels good. Patience, because despite your willingness to jump in headlong to new adventures, it appears your body would actually very much like it for you to slow down and do the work. What a crazy notion!

I've finally settled on doing the 5km clinic next. I was going to push for the 10km clinic, but I love to get ahead of myself, and since I'm trying not to do that, I'm going to slow down and do this one step at a time.

Surrender your ego

2019-06-14T22:43:00.002-04:00

I've done plenty of hard things in the last few years, and cut enough corners to know that you can get through on less than you think, it will be harder than it should be when you get there, and you might fail where you should have succeeded.

I've also learned that pretty much everyone will help you cut yourself slack for doing "what you can" on the day of the thing. No one will make you feel bad for going and doing a half marathon poorly prepared. In the beginning, people might express concern that you're not in the right shape to do the thing, but after it's said and done, you'll hear "Well, you went and tried and that's more than I can say for myself."

They'll say, "You did a great job."

After it's done, absolutely no one will tell you that had you have done the prep you should have, you would have gone in more prepared, and you would have finished stronger and healthier. You did the thing. Yay, you!

Did I tell you I ran the Scotiabank Waterfront Half Marathon last October? I did. Well, I ran and I walked and I finished. I finished a full 20 minutes faster than I thought I would and about 12 minutes and 38 seconds before the official cut off time. The first 10km I got through purely on the fear that I would get short turned due to time, pushing harder than I thought possible. The next 8km or so was on adrenaline and some really good music, and the last 3.1km were purely on the fact that I was hurting and I wasn't going to be this sore and not finish. I was blessed with family spectators in the last couple of km and a friend at the finish line who ran me in, and I would have crossed walking if it wasn't for her.

And then? Then I was ordered to take 6 weeks off because of a nasty injury from bad running form, bad prep and the wrong shoes. Then I got a lung infection from bringing my excercise to a dead stop, from not supporting my body with the right nutrition, from not helping my immune system prepare for and recover from the kind of stress that a half marathon brings to any body, forget that of someone who is 265 lbs. The lung infection knocked me out of running until the new year. Then I lost all motivation. Then I got another lung infection. Then we had a bunch of shitty weather.

And then I went out and did the Chilly Half Marathon in March. Well, I did the Frigid 10k, walking almost all of it, and in a huge amount of pain. Five months working the perfect ass grove into my couch didn't really do much to prepare me to go walk 10km, forget try to run it. I was out of shape even for me, and I felt every step because of it. I felt ashamed because I knew better, but I had listened to my ego telling me it would be ok. I didn't want to drop out, I didn't want to drop distances, so I did the wrong thing the wrong way and paid for it.

After that, I set about feeling embarrassed and ate my body weight in sugar for a couple more months, because historically I'm excellent at adding insult to injury. I didn't sleep enough. I paid for a gym membership I didn't use. I stopped meditating. I didn't go to physio or see my RMT. I did absolutely nothing to make the situation better, and a whole lot to make it worse.

I could feel myself hitting the limits of my coping skills. I struggled to do much more than spin like a top when confronted with challenges. I felt overwhelmed, anxious and had stress gnawing at my gut and my chest. When it was all said and done, I was ready to collapse after any slightly stressful day.

What is it they say about change? You only change when staying the same becomes more uncomfortable than changing.

What is it they say about failure? “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”

I started running again on Monday. This time, with the Running Room's Learn to Run program. These people have been creating runners for 35 years. This time, instead of assuming I know better, I'm trying someone else's way.

Surrender. Just show up and do the thing. Don't cut corners. Do the work. See what happens. There's always a new way to fail better.

On making space for makers ...

2016-12-21T13:12:00.000-05:00

The world seems to be going faster and faster every day. This should come as a surprise to no one. We, as a society, are obsessed with process improvement and efficiency. We are consumers before anything else. This is great, it makes for convenient and affordable access to goods and services, and generally makes our lives easy to a fault. The question this leaves me with is, does this leave space for those who chose to slow down? Is there still space available for the high quality, hand made, and unique?

I come from a family of makers. I have memories of dolls and sweaters from my great grandmother, my grandma sewing my aunt's wedding dress, my mother working from home while she stayed with us as children doing custom alterations for clothes, and knitting both by hand and with a knitting machine. There is an entire cedar chest at my parent's farm that is full of smocked dresses and hand knits and beautiful items waiting to be worn by the next generation, and the thought of that fills me with pride. In times where others sit idle, socks and hats and sweaters fall off the needles of my mother and now myself.

In the last year, I have noticed a significant shift about how I feel about being a creator of things. I have finally gotten over the sting of, "You knit? People really still do that?" and "Why would I want to pay $40 for yarn for a hat when I can buy one from Walmart for $8?" I have come to a place where I have stopped buying the $3 a ball acrylic yarn of my youth, and am willing to spend $35 on a ball of sock yarn because I know that this will bring me more joy to work with, and will produce a product that I'm proud of. I'm finally at a place where I understand the technical aspects of knitting well enough to produce what I envision, and I have produced a few patterns that have sold a few copies. I am finally at a place where I can proudly say, "Yes, I am knitting. You could too, if you would like to learn!"

This also means, that where I can, I like to support small vendors, others who have taken the time to build their skills and produce products that are unique, that have been held in hands, that are more expensive and worth every penny. It means that I hold it dear to my heart that as a maker of things, I should create space and a market for other makers of things. This is a shift for me, because although I've always appreciated a handmade item, I also am quite budget driven, and so, too many of my items come from big box stores, because that's what I have been able to afford.

The challenge this presents, is that I need to get used to a life that is less consumer driven. It means I need to take the time to knit the sweaters I really want instead of buying a $20 sweater that will last a few months and be ruined. It means that I need to learn to care for handmade items properly. It means that I may own fewer items, but they will be higher quality. It means I will spend more time mending what I already have rather than replacing it.

Is this to say that I'll stop shopping at big box stores all together? Probably not. That isn't realistic in this day and age. What is does mean is this: When given the option to choose, I need to slow down, to chose quality over quantity and to support and to make space for the makers, because they are my people.

All things old are new again...

2016-12-20T13:09:00.001-05:00

The year 2016 brought a lot of change to my world, in a lot of planned and completely unexpected ways. In January I heard from my landlord's son, that his mother who lived upstairs and owned the house was no longer in a position to live on her own and they would be putting the house on the market in February. They offered me the opportunity to stay in the home through the sale process and potentially stay with the new landlord, or to move prior to listing. I had been thinking about purchasing a home for some time, and as such, I took this opportunity to start my house hunt.

I looked at several homes, we bid on more than a few, and through the entire process, I appreciated his transparency, his openness and his willingness to work hard until we found exactly what I wanted and found it in my price range.

On July 22, 2016 I became a homeowner. I bought a great 3 bedroom condo townhouse in North Oshawa, that came complete with a long term tenant and the lowest condo fees in Durham region.

I owe a debt of gratitude to my parents and friends for the incredible support that they gave and continue to give through this process, with everything from advice, to a little financial help, to physically showing up and helping me unpack or lay new flooring in the basement. I have a better relationship with them now then I have had in the last decade, and for that, I am incredibly grateful.

The house has started to take shape, but with home-ownership comes a place to really call my own and to set up for sewing, knitting, and now even spinning.

As a housewarming gift I was blessed with an antique wheel from my Auntie Deb. I had the unique opportunity to have a wheel-smith view some photos of it and tell me a little about the history of the wheel. It is cobbled together from Canadian pieces built in the 17th, 18th and early 19th centuries on the East Coast. It has ignited my passion for stretching the useful life of all items, and for the slow process of crafting rather than purchasing goods, and it sits on display in my living room as a constant reminder to take the time to slow down and create something beautiful. If that isn't a recipe for a happy life, I'm not sure what is.

Overnight Black Bean Soup with a Kick!

2016-01-06T13:58:00.000-05:00

In 2016, I'm going to make an effort to do a great deal more cooking at home and committing to trying new recipes with simple and delicious ingredients.

Here's the first recipe I whipped up in the slow cooker:

Overnight Black Bean Soup with a Kick - 12 x 1 Cup Servings

This recipe is a healthy, low cost version of black bean soup with a little bit of a kick, taking the boring and making it delicious. Leftovers are freezable, with no loss of flavour or texture.

Ingredients:

1 Piece of Pork Belly - Approx 2" square

1 Bell Pepper (Red / Orange / Yellow) - Diced

1 Onion - Diced

3 Cups Dried Black Beans

1 Tbsp Chipotle Paste

1 - 3 Tsp Ground Cumin - To taste

4 Cloves Garlic - Minced

8-9 Cups Water

2 Chicken Bullion Cubes

Optional Toppings:

Sour cream

Coriander

Cheese

Salsa

Directions:

Dice Pork Belly into 1 cm cubes, cook in frying pan until translucent.
Add diced onions and peppers to frying pan, and cook until pork is crispy and onions and peppers are caramelized.
Pour contents of pan into crock pot, add dried black beans, chipotle paste, ground cumin, garlic, water and chicken bullion cubes.
Turn slow cooker to low, and head to bed. Let the soup cook for 8-10 hours until the beans are tender to your liking.
If broth in soup is too thin, use an immersion blender or potato masher to liquefy some of the beans and thicken the soup.
Serve with optional toppings as desired.

Weight Watchers Smart Points: 6 before optional toppings

Approximate cost per serving: $0.69

Enjoy!

Everything is blissfully normal

2014-11-27T02:37:00.000-05:00

I've had the blog for six years now.

I haven't written much of anything in the last three years.

I had stopped writing because I felt so lost that I couldn't string 500 words together anymore. It wasn't that I didn't have anything to say, but I found myself without voice. So here I am, six years from my first post, reopening the blog.

I've taken down all the old posts, because they all felt too much like a piece of my past. I woke up every day and knew less and less about that girl. I couldn't identify with her anymore. I'm not sure I ever could.

I'm 30. I have been for a little while now, actually. Nothing strange or startling there. Eventually we all wake up and arrive here, God willing.

My world and my life felt like they were constantly shifting since I was 20, and I was forever trying to get my feet under me, only to succeed and then have it slip away again. I felt like I was failing, and I was unable to shake it. I was living the cliche "one step forward and two back" life. It was amazing, and adventurous, fun and awful, challenging and a bit of a slog through it if we're being honest.

So, what has me here again, ready to put pen to paper (so to speak)?

I have a good job with a great company. I've been a Registered Insurance Broker for a little over two years now. It's in an industry that I never really expected to be in, and that I unexpectedly excel in. As it turns out, insurance is interesting and technical and lets me deal with people and help them make good decisions.

I have a company that pays for my education, and is willing to invest in me so that I can grow in the future. I somehow, without really noticing, am 80% of the way through a Chartered Insurance Professional designation.

I'm not making millions, but I'm finally making ends meet and am able to look towards the future. Money doesn't buy happiness, but there are no words to describe the relief it is to be able to pay rent, and afford a car and save for the future and still by groceries and keep my cell phone turned on. It is funny how it suddenly happens, that you shift from having to make choices that no one wants to make, to having options. It happens a little at a time, and then all at once.

I have finally surrounded myself with people who support and love me as I am, as my quilting, knitting, cooking, exercising, not exercising, eating well, eating whatever I want, having a dog who sheds everywhere, driving a car that sometimes has too many empty diet coke cans, not watching TV much or keeping up with current events at all completely nerdy and imperfect self.

Life on the family front is pretty great. We still have our challenges, and I'm sure we always will. You don't have three living generations of strong willed, opinionated, smart, slightly crazy people roaming this earth without a little friction.

I keep finding, more and more, that although it isn't perfect, life feels like it is getting better. It feels like the difference between a quick fix and a slow and proper mending. There is a sense of calm in my world now, that there really is no explanation for, except this: Things are finally good.

And now, in this moment, I am finally ready to live an extraordinary life.

On moving on to the unknown....

2013-05-15T13:09:00.007-04:00

It is an interesting thing, moving on. It brings forward a thousand feelings of regret, sadness, joy, hope, grief for the past and excitement for the future.

I am moving, have moved, and am trying to move on all in the same breath.

For the last two years I have lived with a couple of amazing, challenging people, who have loved me despite all my struggle, and now the time has come to get my own space. While they may disagree, these last two years have been the best, hardest, fastest and slowest of my life. It has been a break to enjoy lower rent, shared expenses and companionship of friends, but also hard to live with roommates, especially ones with the history we have had.

Roommates, love, friendship and hurt feelings make it complicated. I’m sad to move out but feel it is honestly the best thing for all of us. I’m sad because the distance between us that was once so small, now feels like a massive chasm. I don’t know how we’ll come out the other side of it. I don’t know if we’ll find our way back to being friends, to standing by each other through thick and thin, to being over to each other’s house for dinners. I don’t know a lot right now.

I haven’t blogged in the time I have lived there. I haven’t shared the experience because while I was standing in it I had a truly hard time putting the experience in words.

There are a thousand regrets that I have, a thousand different choices I would make differently, and a thousand things I would do the same in a heartbeat. I have done a lot of learning and growing. I have done a lot of figuring out who I am, and all that means. I have a lot of strengths and a lot of weaknesses, but I’ve come out of this infinitely more self aware.

I doubt that they’ll read this, but I hope they know how much I appreciate them, how much I will miss living with them, and how much I hope that we come out of this better than before. I hope we find our way back, because whether they believe it or not, I do miss them.

With hope for the future, and all it brings,

On Respect and Personal Conversations

2010-10-06T14:58:00.004-04:00

In the past week or so I’ve run into a couple of issues where people have repeated very personal conversations between myself and whoever the other party was. Usually part of the conversation is taken out of context, misrepresented or is a highly emotional conversation that was never intended to be communicated beyond the parties involved. The worst part about all of this is that it leads to questions from third parties, or a lot of joking around about somewhat sensitive subjects, and finally hurt feelings and questions of respect for my personal privacy and right to express myself freely with people who I trust.

Here’s the thing, I don’t mind the occasional poke to the ego, but if I’ve been emotional with you about something, or stretched myself to have a conversation and honest discussion about a topic I’m not one hundred percent sure of, please understand that I struggle at the best of times to express how I feel or what I think. When how I feel about whatever the subject is becomes the butt of a joke, I feel stupid, or like how I feel is somehow less valid. I know that the conversations aren’t being shared with this intention, but when I tell you how I feel about it, perk up your ears and listen. Try not to add insult to injury by telling me that being upset about it is silly.

All of this is made worse by the fact that the third party has often been someone who I personally would never have shared the conversation with for many reasons. Maybe I’m a worry wart, but I hate it when there is a conversation had about me, that could change someone’s opinion of me, and no one thinks to provide the context so that I don’t sound like a raging lunatic. Everything is about perception, sure, but every once and a while, the speaker has control of how things are perceived by putting a spin on the information.

One dimensional

2010-05-31T04:22:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I feel like a fairly one dimensional person. A lot of the time I get seen that way.

There is a lot going on in my life right now, including the fact that I'm realizing pretty quickly that I'm gay, and sorting out everything that goes with that, not seeing my family because I work two jobs, trying to pull together my apartment into some sort of reasonable and presentable setup so that it's okay for me to have company over, trying to eat right and go to the gym and look after my health, and my dog, and help out friends with different things that they need, and have a social life, and, and, and. I'm overwhelmed. Period.

Here's the thing, when I get overwhelmed I tend to pick one thing to focus on, one thing that is within my control and work on that. Right now, that thing is actually my job.

It's very frustrating because there is a lot more to me than just work, but I love my job and I'm very committed to it right now, because I want to move up within the company. I am really trying to put the effort in now, so that in a few years I will get the rewards. Because of this I've been referred to as a workaholic. I don't think that it's a bad thing to like and be committed to my job, but I can understand why it could be frustrating too.

Obviously E works with me, in case y'all missed that. That's all well and good, except that we're on opposite shifts, we see things different ways and we pick different battles to fight. She says that she thinks I'm very black and white at work, and that I want things my way or no way. She tells me I have opinions about everything, and that I make sure everyone hears them. She worries that I'm dangerous at work because I'll stop at nothing to put my plans into motion.

It hurts that she sees it in such a negative light. It makes me feel ashamed of wanting more than just staying in communications, and it makes me feel like if I do get the job it would be for all of the wrong reasons. It makes me wonder if everyone sees me the same way, and if I really got to move up, whether people would expect me to fail.

I suddenly feel like I'm doing myself a huge disservice by knowing what I want out of this. I have been really happy with this company so far, and in the last week I've thought about quitting more than once, because it makes me so uncomfortable that I'm seen as aggressive instead of competent, and that it is perceived that I'm pushing my agenda rather than having input that could actually be useful.

I take my job very personally, I like the company, I like the people I work with, I would go to the mat for the members of my team, and I really do try to support them, and now I spend a weekend finding out that that's not what people see. It just hurts.

I put in a lot of effort with the job, and it is the one thing in my life that I feel like I have any control over at the moment. It consumes a lot of my time and energy, and I think about it in my off time. I put effort into doing the leg work, doing the training, putting together a plan for things that I think are important, for programs I believe in, and for things that I honestly want to see improve.

I talk about work because I want feedback. I talk about work with women mostly, and I make every effort to discuss and get feedback from women who I have a lot of respect for within the company, and outside it also.

I grew up with a lot of women in my life who are focused on business, and now E is in the fold of women whose opinion actually matters to me. The fact that I debate with her about things gets her back up, because she thinks that I'm arguing, and I don't know how to explain it to her. We both take it so personally that things can get heated, but I actually enjoy talking about it with her because she sees things so differently than me. It's strikes me as odd that she sees me as a shark, when she is a shark too. If she wasn't, I wouldn't want her opinion. Part of why I like her, is because she's a shark too.

So, yeah, I talk to much about work and spend too much time focused on it. It's what I have to hold onto right now. It's my safety net. It makes me sad that E and I can't talk about it, because that was nice. We'll go back to having other things to talk about, but she'll probably still have to remind me to not talk so damned much about work.

Does that make me one dimensional?

The advice we give to others...

2010-05-31T01:42:00.004-04:00

I'm a firm believer that the universe brings people into your life for a reason. The people you interact with are all there to teach you something, or to learn something from you, and most often, both.

I've had a lot of interesting conversations this weekend with people both new to my life, and old friends and the one thing that I'm taking away from it is that most often the advice that we give to other people reflects advice that we should probably listen to ourselves. It's scary how often I'll give advice or explain something to someone, and then have a light bulb moment about how I should have dealt with something.

This weekend I've learned:

While talking to my friend A about his girlfriend and how she felt about him having more sexual partners than she had, I explained to him that most of the time that becomes an issue when a girl is concerned that she won't be able to keep up, or that you'll ask her to do something outside of her comfort zone.

Further to that, I advised, he will have to watch out for her talking a big game in order to give the impression that she can keep up, and then not knowing how to back down from that if, in the moment, she is not actually comfortable with what's going on.

As I was sitting there telling him all of this, and it suddenly hit me. Holy shit. I've done this a lot of times. I've gotten myself into more than a few situations that I'd much rather not be in, and not known how to get out because I was scared of what the person I was with would think. Oh my god. I'm giving him the advice and warning him about something that I wish someone had have given me the heads up on.

While talking to L about people in her life and how to know who could be trusted, and who was playing the game, I realized I should watch how people behave with other people and then decide if that is how I want to be treated. If you would tell your friends not to befriend someone because they are playing games or are manipulative, why would you want to be friends with them yourself? Generally that type of behaviour is a systemic problem. I don't know why I let people in my life even though they aren't good to other people. It's so much easier to stand up for others than it is for one's self some times, but I need to work on doing both.

While talking with E, I realized that I need to be more aware of people in my personal life, and in my professional life, and the fact that I'm two totally different people in those two worlds. I suddenly understand that it is asking a lot of people to be able to reconcile the two because in my personal life I'm a lamb, and professionally I'm a lion. I tend to be very assertive and confident professionally; in fact I am quite aggressive. That works for me in the professional world, however when it trickles into my personal life, or when the submissiveness and compliance of my personal life trickles into my professional life, it can have a huge impact, which is rarely positive. I need to remember to keep the two separate, and to be more understanding when the differences between the two are hard to cope with.

While talking with H about her insecurity, we talked about how second guessing yourself all the time isn’t an attractive quality. You deserve the chance to be who you are, and you don't need to ask the permission of other people to take that chance. She was concerned about her tendency to wear her heart on her sleeve and wanted to know how to not feel like she needs to be so guarded all the time. I told her that wearing her heart on her sleeve isn't a bad thing, but a risk for sure. The thing is, sometimes it's worth the risk. I told her that most people don't walk through life with the sort of malice of intent that would cause them to purposely hurt her.

In a nut shell, I have learned:

It's important to be honest about how you feel about things, and to not make decisions based on fear.
It never hurts to observe how people treat others, and decide if that's someone you want in your life.
Keep your professional life and personal life separate, even when the two collide, or be understanding when people don't know how to reconcile that the two may not be the same person.
Be confident, and have faith in people. You don't need their permission to be who you are, and if you're at peace with who you are, they would never ask you to second guess it.

So, in short, next time I'm giving advice, I'm going to try to listen harder, because most of the time it applies to me too.

A long weekend...

2010-05-24T15:57:00.002-04:00

You have to love a long weekend, it's always interesting whether you intend to just relax, or not.

Friday night I received a call from Alana to let me know that she wasn't going to be able to come down for the weekend. Her car crapped out and they weren't going to be able to do much with it until Wednesday. This wouldn't be a big deal except that she was supposed to be coming with me to Cherrybomb on Saturday night. E was tied up with some friends in town for the long weekend, and she wasn't going to be around to take me, and I really wanted to go. In fact, I was quite proud of myself for having decided to go without her, and Alana's car breaks down. Murphy's Law.

Fine, I decided I would skip it instead. It wasn't that big of a deal. I spent all of Friday night trying to minimize it in my head and make myself feel like I didn't want to go and I wasn't missing out. Epic fail. I still wanted to go and on Saturday morning when I woke up I was still pouting around my apartment and feeling pretty upset about not going.

Just after lunch on Saturday, I hop on Facebook and Lindsey is online, which is great because I happen to know she doesn't have plans for Saturday night. In fact, I've been trying to text her since Friday night, but not getting a response. Turns out, she left her cell phone at Seneca.

So, I message her and see if she's available to go, which she is after some convincing, and a promise to leave at a reasonable hour, namely 11:30 or midnight. My mood significantly improves, sure I don't get to dance until the birds start chirping, but I get to go out for a bit. Lindsey and I head out and get our hair done, have some supper at Sushi & BBQ and trek over to Cherrybomb to have some drinks.

Let's backtrack for a minute. Some time after Lindsey decided she would come, E texts me and I let her know that Alana had canceled. She was super supportive and suggests that I go alone, but I have to admit, I'm just not there yet and I wouldn't have gotten through the door. I probably would have been able to get myself down there, and I might have even gotten as far as getting my ID checked, before I bailed out.

There are a few reasons for this, firstly, when I was showing up, I knew it was going to be quiet and it would be pretty obvious I was there on my own and a little uncomfortable. I would have felt the same about this at any bar or event, gay or straight. I just find this situation very awkward.

Secondly, if something went horribly awry, I would want to know that I had someone there to bail me out. I don't know what I thought would go so wrong, but there is a part of me that insists upon preparing for all eventualities.

Last, but not least, I found the thought of being around so many people who are really comfortable with who they are, while I'm still trying to work things out, a little overwhelming. It makes me feel like they would take one look at me and think that I'm faking. I don't know why. This probably warrants some further analysis, but that's for another blog.

Anyhow, Lindsey and I get down there, get through the door and sit down to have a drink. Well, I had a drink, she wasn't drinking because she didn't want to get too caught up in the merriment and forget that we had to leave at midnight so that she wouldn't be too tired for Lost on Sunday, but I digress.

So, we sit down and I have a drink or two, and eventually a better table a little closer to the dance floor opens up and we move over there. We sit and watch and she is finally convinced that this is actually a lot of fun and she isn't nearly as uncomfortable as she expected to be. She admits that she is having a good time and that it's really comfortable here. I laughed when she said it, because I would have left with her if she was that uncomfortable, I just needed help getting through the door and getting through the part of the night where it's quiet and no one is dancing yet.

The music picks up, and all of a sudden a song we both know is on, and it seems that everyone else knows it too, because the 8 people on the dance floor, suddenly becomes 70, and it's enough that we can blend in and have a good time. We get up and dance. The next 45 minutes is all songs that we can sing along to, or that we've heard before at the very least, and we're having a great time.

All of a sudden, I notice some girl looking at me, with a big silly smile. She has sort of been dancing in the general vicinity of Lindsey and I, with a friend of hers, for a few minutes and we've all been having a great time so I don't really think much of it.

I barely have time to blink and she's dancing with me. I feel like a 14 year old writing this because dancing is just dancing and I shouldn't think anything of it, so I calm myself down, and keep dancing. She's cute, not really my type, but I can see the appeal. I figure we'll just dance for a bit and both move on, so no big. We talk a little over the music, she says, "I love how tall you are." I laugh and say that the heels help, and smile.

E texts me to see what I'm doing, and I let her know that I'm dancing, having fun and that all is well.

Flash forward about half an hour. We're still dancing together, and this is when she decides that she wants to kiss my neck. Oh, okay. I've missed something here. I step back a little, and she steps towards me and grabs my hands to put them on her waist, as she turns around to face away from my, she pulls one of my arms up and across her chest. At this point I start to get really uncomfortable, luckily she is quite short, and I'm quite tall in the heels. So, I shoot Lindsey a look over her head, and Lindsey asks if she can borrow me to go to the washroom. I smile and apologize and say that it was nice dancing with her, and we go sit on the pool hall side of things.

Lindsey laughs, and says, well even if she's not your type, you still did better than me this evening. I have to laugh too, because I expect to be the invisible girl in the crowd, and maybe I'm not. That's exciting. We have another drink and head home.

I get home, and E and I text back and forth a little before I pass out. I missed her at the bar, because she would have caught that I was a little uncomfortable much faster, but it was also good to go and kind of work it out for myself. I think if I wanted to go and there was no one around, I could probably go down by myself. I think I would go later in the night, and I would still be nervous, but I would survive, and that's the main thing. It's sort of a nice feeling to realize that.

I have one more interesting story from this weekend, but that will have to wait until later because this girl hears her aunt starting the BBQ, and that means it is time for me to start making dinner.

When you ask tough questions...

2010-05-03T05:00:00.002-04:00

Please understand that you make me feel really safe, safer than I have in a long time and that is scary for me. It makes me want to be honest with you about my past and who I was, to let you know what I've really seen.

I don't tell anyone these stories. I may mention in passing, to explain a reaction, but I never give the dark details. I don't tell the stories because they hurt to hear. I don't because people don't look at me the same.

I appreciate that you haven't been asking me a lot of questions, and you've been letting me tell you things at my own pace. I know that it can be difficult to deal with some of who I am, because you don't know the back story. We've talked about it. I know that you don't need or want it. You don't want the full back story just yet, and I don't want to subject you to it unnecessarily.

Sometimes, when we're discussing the odds and ends of our lives, I talk about people, and I can see you cringe. I think it's because you can probably read me well enough by now to know that they aren't really how I describe them, and that I'm giving you the sugar coated version.

You remind me now and again that after a month, the stories I have to tell are a little much, and I know that. I hesitate to tell you too much of it because I get nervous that you'll run for the hills, or that I'll cry.

I'm hesitant to tell you any of it, because it makes me want to tell you all of it and none of it all at once.

You said that you have a list of words in your head, a thought cloud of things that you expect that I'll tell you about one day. I'll try to keep the information to small doses, both for your sanity and mine, but please remember that I'm always honest with you, and that sometimes when you ask tough questions, the answers aren't pretty.

On Remembering Where You Stand

2010-04-29T03:15:00.004-04:00

It's always a bitch when you realize you're upset about something that you have no right to be upset about.

I'm laying here in bed, really upset over how tonight went, not because I didn't have fun, but because I forgot for a split second where I actually stood.

Casual isn't a bad thing at all, it's probably what I need and E is probably right, but just the same I had gotten used to her being there when things that I felt like a big deal had happened, or afterward at the very least. So, tonight when D and I wandered off into the Village like grownups, all on our lonesome and had a few drinks, and she met us afterward, I sincerely had a hard time when she went home to her place after. The part of me that looks for her to talk to about things, or to get a little validation from her was hurt.

I know that we were out with people from work. I understand that even though they "know" there is a certain safety in plausible deny-ability, for us and for them. I fully realize the position we are in and that we are both up for promotions in the near future, which could be jeopardized by this coming out.

I even know that it isn't personal, and that she wasn't trying to upset me at all.

I know that she is going through a particularily ugly break up right now, and that my very existance makes it no easier.

I have no illusions of granduer of this ever working out into something more.

Still, lesson learned. Don't forget, even for a second, where you stand and what your place is, because if you do, you've got no recourse. You have no right to be upset.

If you spend enough time with someone...

2010-04-27T04:18:00.004-04:00

... eventually the conversations get really interesting.

The people you spend a lot of time with in any given moment will eventually start to ask you some really mind blowing questions.

We all do it. We ask each other the questions that we think the other person should be asking them self. We do it because it helps us understand, and because the ensuing conversations are usually very revealing. Obviously, I've just had a few interesting ones asked, otherwise I wouldn't be writing.

E just asked me if I picture my life with a women, or just sex.

At first, my response was really clear. I picture my life with a woman.

Let's just sit with that for a second. I'll say it again.

I picture my life with a woman.

...

Okay. Ready now? Good. It took me a second to grasp that one too.

Ready for the part that will really take you some time to wrap your brain around?

I always pictured my life with another woman. I pictured a house, a girl, a dog and maybe a kid or two, and it didn't for one second register with me that I wasn't picturing a guy.

I'll give you another second with that.

It never occurred to me that I wasn't picturing my life with a guy. I saw what I was picturing as so normal that it didn't warrant me sitting up and taking notice. It was just a subconscious thing that I've always thought about, without thinking about.

Do you need just one more second? I needed a few.

E and I are texting back and forth today, just chatting and she's trying to figure out where I'm at on things. She is asking me questions to make me think about where I am at and challenge my thinking, and there it is.

I never, not for one second, pictured my life as settled down with a guy. I was engaged to and lived with a guy for several years, and never once did I think that he and I would be together forever. I didn't see him as the love of my life, and didn't ever expect that we would truly settle down.

Apparently, for my whole life I have pictured myself not with a guy, but with a very tom-boy type of girl.

E's response? "Talk about an eye opener."

Point taken.

Relax

2010-04-23T12:03:00.002-04:00

After giving yesterday's post some further thought, and getting some feedback on it, one thing became painfully clear. I get caught up in what's going on in my head, working out every possible outcome for every situation and forgetting that a vital part of life is remembering to act. Part of life is letting go of all the thoughts spinning around in my head, taking action and letting the chips fall where they may.

I showed my blog to E yesterday for the first time and picked a few specific entries for her to read. We talked a fair bit about some of the stuff I had written and she said something I found interesting. She said that I was more articulate in my writing than I am in person. That she had expected me to be as scattered when I write as I can be in person, and that she was surprised to find that it wasn't the case.

Most of what I write is knocked out on my laptop, usually with no revisions, and submitted to the blog within about 30 minutes of when I start writing. I usually just hit the spell check button and then the post button, and call it done.

As she continued reading the blog, there was a moment where she asked me a question about it, and I absolutely panicked. I physically panicked. There was a full on fight or flight response. It took me a while to explain it to her, and in hindsight I did a fairly poor job of it initially. I tried to explain that I felt challenged on the content, and I didn't like it, but that really wasn't the issue.

When I got home, I gave it some more thought and really I think it comes down to another issue. I second guessed myself.

She wasn't challenging me. She wasn't asking me to justify anything I said. She wasn't attacking me or asking me to make myself smaller to fit into what she expected of me. All she was doing was asking me to clarify and expand on something I had said, and I had a knee-jerk reaction to her being in my space.

I put all of myself on here. I am more honest with myself here than I have been able to be anywhere else. I write to work a lot of things out, because in this space I can make decisions. In this space there is no room for second guessing, and instinct and congruence with who I really am override all else. In this space, you take me as I am or you get the heck out of my space.

It wasn't that I didn't want her there, because I had invited her in. An invitation to read my blog is equivalent to me laying a welcome mat out at the entrance to my brain.

I wanted her here, but her being showing up, reading and having this information and this honesty from me makes me feel really vulnerable. It's scary.

She can read me pretty well, and I'm not used to that. I'm not used to someone wanting to know what I'm really thinking and feeling, and not just as a casual observer. I am putting a lot of faith and trust in her, and it means I have to trust my instincts, that she is a safe sounding board. Putting this faith in her means that I need to put faith in myself. It means that I need to trust, be honest, and most of all, it means that I need to accept that it is safe for me to relax.

Breath

2010-04-22T11:01:00.004-04:00

As it turns out, this foray into dating women isn't as easy and straightforward as I had hoped. I expected that it would be an easy transition because of my past. I thought it would go off without a hitch. The universe, however, has conspired against me and proven to me yet again, that I shouldn't walk through life with expectations.

I always seem to get caught up somewhere between what I want, and how to get there. Right now, in this moment, I want to date women. I have no interest in dating guys.

What I'm struggling with is the fact that I feel like I need to learn a whole new set of rules, because I never really dated other girls.

Actually, to be fair, I never really dated at all. I had a few good guy friends over the years that I was basically friends with benefits with, and the more I give it any sort of thought, the more I realize that there was no real connection with them on a relationship level. We were basically scratching an itch. The truth is, I have no idea how to date whether it is men or women.

I'm left with all of these things that I wonder, and no real answers. I have been trying to express where I'm at, and have started four or five blog entries, but nothing is coming out coherant or cohesive right now. All I've got is a thousand questions in my head. I've come to a place where all I can do is express the questions and let them breath a little.

I wonder whether what I'm actually having a hard time with is the fact that I want to have more with a girl then I've ever really wanted with a guy.

I wonder whether much of my past can be explained by the fact that I always liked girls, and never really explored that beyond occasionally sleeping with them.

I wonder whether blaming my history and track record with guys on the fact that I should have been with women all along is a cop out.

I wonder whether that matters.

I wonder what kind of girls I like.

I wonder whether my family will really be as okay with all of this as I think they will, or whether it's wishful thinking on my part.

I wonder why people blame my interest in women on the fact that I've had some very violent and negative experience with men in the past few years. This one upsets and frustrates me to no end.

I wonder why anyone who has known me since high school has a very "Yup, that makes sense." response, and anyone who has known me just within the last four or five years has a "Wait, wait... what? Didn't see that coming!" response.

I wonder if I am really too old to be figuring this all out.

I wonder why I feel like everyone will assume it is a phase, regardless of the fact that they don't seem to.

I wonder why I get so nervous going to the Village, and why it is so comfortable all at the same time.

I wonder if all the insecurity that is coming to the surface right now has always been there, and whether addressing it and how I see myself will have as big of an impact on my life as everyone expects.

I wonder why I don't see myself the way other people see me, no matter how many times they tell me that my perception of myself is in-congruent with who and how I actually am.

I wonder how I will fit in the community, and if I will find my place in it as quickly as I'm told I will, or as slowly as I expect that I will.

I wonder why it's only taken about three weeks for my anxiety about going into the Village to go from an 11, all the way down to a 3.

I wonder whether the girl at the bar last night saw me too.

I wonder if I will be accepted because I'm discovering that I'm super girly.

I wonder whether my family already knows, and is just waiting for me to spit it out.

I wonder whether I'm bi or just straight up gay.

I wonder why this feels like home, in a way that I can't even express.

I wonder if all of the change in my life in one moment is a good thing, and whether I'm strong enough.

I wonder why I always seem to have so many questions.

I wonder why I'm the kind of girl that needs to process.

I wonder whether what I write off as processing, is really just me making myself smaller, more socially acceptable, having my opinion conform to what people expect, and reconciling myself to being that person.

I wonder whether I should make a conscious effort to stop taking all this time to process, and start just living it and figuring it out as I go.

I wonder why I didn't figure this out before.

Spring Cleaning

2010-04-11T04:56:00.002-04:00

Very few of you will ever see my apartment.
I am usually hesitant to let even good friends into my place unannounced and will cancel plans if I can’t get organized in time because my apartment is usually a mess. I am terrified by someone seeing the mess my house is in, and I’ve recently realized that my apartment is a reflection of my mental state.

Right now, my apartment is a total mess.

I don’t actually dislike cleaning, contrary to popular belief. I find it rather relaxing when I’m good and ready to do it, but I usually have to get into the right head space to work on it.

I tend to leave it until I have no further options, or when it affords me the opportunity to procrastinate on something that I enjoy less than cleaning. If my apartment is a reflection of my mentality, does anyone else see an issue?

There are times when my apartment is so bad that you’re not getting through the front door, even if you have a fire hose, and my kitchen is ablaze. This is generally a pretty good indicator of the fact that I’m trying to avoid dealing with something, and sometimes it can take a pretty long time for me to be prepared to deal with whatever it is, but I am more than willing to let you believe that this is because I’ve been working too much to take any sort of care of my place, but usually that’s a boldfaced lie.

It has a lot more to do with the fact that mentally I’m a mess. It means that I’m trying to work things out in my head, and either I’m under a fair bit of pressure, stressed, or otherwise trying to cope, and all my energy is tied up in that.

For the record, I hate it when my apartment is like this. It stresses me out more than most people could ever understand; only further compounding whatever stress I’m under until I have only two choices, of either shutting down completely, or bucking up and dealing with it.

Right now, I’m in the process of attempting to do some work on the apartment, and give it a look. I want to get it organized and actually decorated enough to look like a grown up apartment. It would be nice to have a place that actually looks like I’m not a college student.

This, of course, means that I have a lot of cleaning to do, but it’s the kind that lands you on your hands and knees for the better part of a day to make any sort of progress. This also means that it is the kind of cleaning that makes the mess worse, much worse, before it gets better and the scary part about the process is that it comes with addressing a lot of underlying stuff.

Here’s to spring cleaning!

Life happens in its own time, and there is no convincing it otherwise.

2010-03-17T12:04:00.002-04:00

I've not written in a while because I've been trying to process somethings, but since I'm failing so epically, I figure I'll just try to process publicly and see what happens.

I'm dating a girl.

Anyone who has known me for any lenght of time seems to be unsurprised by this.
It's freaking me out.

Apparently everyone around me knew way before I did that eventually I'd date a girl. I make no bones about the fact that I have a history with women, but I have never dated a girl.

In fact, I generally identify as straight. I like men, and have always considered women a side dish. You may think that was just a stepping stone, or a ploy for the attention of men, however it was always great fun at the time, just not something that I expected to want full time.

We had been fantastic friends for about six months, and had a whole world of things in common. Suddenly, the "just friends" thing isn't working out.

She admits that she dated women in college, and I admit that I've had a few sexual relationships with women, but that's where it has ended. We continue for a few weeks more, and it gets more and more complicated. We're both acting awkward.

Finally, I invite her out for drinks for the gold medal women's hockey game, and we end the night sitting in a Starbucks having "the talk." We decide to give it a go. We are both honest about our boundaries. Her family situation is an issue for her. The fact that I have always dated men, and don't think that I'll suddenly cease to be attracted to them is an issue for me, as is the fact that I don't do well in relationships. We think we can live with each other's issues.

So, I suddenly find myself in a relationship with a girl who's mom is totally non-supportive of the fact that she's gay. They live together. It's a little intense, but we're avoiding the issue and that's fine. We both work way too much and don't see a lot of each other, but things are good. I continue to struggle with this whole "transition" that I don't see as a transition, but like I said, things are good.

I haven't talked to my family about all of this yet because it's all so new, but I'm really lucky to have a family that has supported me through bigger and harder things, that is fairly liberal and who I'm confident will be quite okay with having a daughter who dates girls.

In fact, the person having the hardest time with all of this is me, which I suppose is logical. I mean, the person who I have identified as since the start of high school pretty much got turned on her head about a month ago, and tossed into a monogamous relationship. I struggle with relationships at the best of times.

I also have a huge problem with the fact that more than one person has tried to apply psychology to who I have been over the past 10 years, saying that I would only relate to men the way I have based on the fact that I was a huge closet case. I have had a few more friends say that this is to be expected after years of the experiences with men that I have had, and to almost blame this on the fact that I've been raped.

The thing is, I'm not broken. I really don't need you to justify this, to tell me why it happened, or to explain away either my past or present, with the other. I like who I like, and I don't know that it needs an explanation by you, psychology or even by me.

I talk to a few people at work about it, and all of a sudden there is this whole mini-community that I'm welcomed into with open arms. It's a little overwhelming because my expectations are sort of thrown out the window by those around me. No one expects me to be ready to jump into life in the gay-bourhood with both feet, and besides a casual invitation to PRIDE, and the suggestion to go out and meet a few people at some point, there's not any pressure.

So, I'm sort of working out this whole identity and trying to process that everything that is going on. I'm trying not to over-analyze everything (failing) and just roll with it for a while, but it is challenging. I'm struggling with it. I suppose that it is to be expected, because life isn't a sitcom where you just kiss a girl one day and suddenly your entire future is decided. I guess I'll just have to get used to that.

You've got to love it when life catches you unaware.

Just a quick check in...

2010-02-17T15:43:00.002-05:00

So, I've been swamped. I haven't had time to write in a while and I thought I'd drop in for a quick update.

I've registered for the CN Tower Climb for WWF-Canada. 144 flights of stairs. I'm training like a woman.

I've been doing a whole bunch of working out and have set up some challenges for myself, including several events this summer. For the WWF CN Tower climb, it's a obviously a fundraiser for World Wildlife Foundation, and a great physical challenge. You should sponsor me!

Click here to sponsor me!

I'm trying to raise $150, which is 2x the minimum fundraising goal. If all of my readers gave up one Starbucks coffee, and sponsored me for $5, I'd blow that goal out of the water.

I've also signed up to do the Becel Ride for Heart in Toronto. It's 50km on the DVP, and it's in early June. I'm going to have a lot of work to do to get ready for this, and I'm still working on coming up with a plan. I'm really excited about it though. I'm considering starting out with a 25km bike ride, called Ride for the Rouge. It's a fundraiser for the Rouge Valley Conservation Centre. I know that they're all fundraisers, and that's a little frustrating, but it's the easiest way to find great events that I've found so far.

I'm going to try to find some events to sign up for towards the end of the summer, and really try to get set up to do the Half Moon in August adventure race in Alberta, and maybe RacetherockstAR in Muskoka in July.

And now that I'm looking at that schedule... this is crazy. I'm so excited.

Anyone up for the challenge?

Family dynamics and a matriarchal family

2010-02-04T11:34:00.002-05:00

You're going to have to forgive me for my philosophical musings today. I woke up this morning and did yoga and it always puts me in a reflective state of mind.

I come from a family that I always considered to have a patriarchal structure while I was growing up, I had a great grandfather who everyone looked up to and went to for guidance. We all had and have a great deal of respect for him, and considered him to have set the bar to which we all should rise.

Time passed, and he got very ill with Parkinson’s. Let me be the first to say that Parkinson’s is a dreadful disease, because it claims the body long before it takes the mind. It is a hard thing to watch, especially in a man who we all head in such high esteem. A little over five years ago, he passed away and suddenly Nana and Grumpy became just Nana.

There have been a lot of things that have happened in the family that I'm grateful that he wasn't here to see, but there are also things that I think would have made him proud. I think he would have been pleased to see the women of my family suddenly rise to the occasion and take the reins of the family. I don't think he foresaw it, but I think it would have made him every bit as proud of us as we always were of him.

A great example of this is my mom. I always had a lot of respect for her, even if we didn't see eye to eye when I was growing up. It took us a lot of years to find our common ground, and mostly it involved a whole lot of me realizing just how much alike we are. When I was younger, people would say to me "you certainly are your mother's daughter" and I would be absolutely gobsmacked. I would protest, and say that I wasn't the home making, housekeeping, two kids and a farm kind of girl. Boy oh boy, was I ever wrong.

She and I coming to common ground also involved a fair amount of her acknowledging that I am bound and determined to do just about everything the hard way, and that I need to learn my own lessons, and see the world through my own eyes. It's how I learn. It isn't a choice. Things got a lot better for her and I around the time that she realized that telling me something was hot wasn't going to be nearly as effective as just letting me touch it.

Now that I'm a little older and have more perspective on the situation, I also see how much leadership she takes with our family. She is the first to make sure that my grandparents get everything they need, and provides a level headed sounding board for them on a fairly broad spectrum of issues, as she does for her sisters and children. I also see how much our relationship has impacted how she interacts with other members of our family. As it turns out, I'm not the only one who needs to make their own mistakes. As I watch her in her role with other family members, I see her let them fall every now and again, when she sees that it will be a more effective lesson. I don't know whether she does it consciously, or whether it has become part of her instinct, but it amazes me. Sometimes it takes so much more strength to let someone make mistakes than it does to try to protect them from everything.

I am starting to see more and more how very like her I am. I really am my mother’s daughter, no matter how big of shoes I have to fill. I see the world from a similar perspective. I live a very different life than she does, but the older I get, the more I aspire to have the same kind of respect from the people around me, and to have a similar kind of life. While I don’t want to work the same job, and I hope to get there my own way, I hope that I can be as happy.

It is astounding to me that in the transition from patriarchal to matriarchal; suddenly my mother stepped up to the helm. It was unexpected, at least to me, but I feel truly blessed to have such a fantastic role model and mother. I really believe that Grumpy would have been just as proud as we all are.

Apartment hunting and the reasons for it...

2010-02-03T16:57:00.003-05:00

That's it. I've officially had it. My fire alarm has been going off at ungodly hours, my building manager is never available, and my rent is the next best thing to astronomical. $1000 a month doesn't sound so bad, but considering the amount that I'm actually home, I could quite easily adapt to something a little less expensive.

I'm attempting to find something new for May 1st or sooner. While I know that I'm starting to work on this a little early, I need some time to get my head around the transition and what steps I need to take in order to have a move that goes off a little bit easier than the ones in the past.

I'm also trying to make some decisions on what I'm looking for, and where because I know more more about the city than I did when I first moved into the GTA.

My requirements are relatively simple:

1 bedroom
TTC Access very nearby, preferably within 10 minutes of a subway station
Pet friendly
<$700 a month

Now, you're all laughing at the <$700 a month, I'm sure. Let me explain my theory on this one. I'm sure that we all realize that for less than $700 I'm going to end up in a basement apartment, and I'm fine with that. I want to live in something a little more affordable for a year, pay off all my debt and put away enough money for a down payment. I want to buy a house, or at the very least be well on my way to it this time next year.

Basically, the new year came around and I realized that I've been living a life of total chaos for the past five plus years, especially financially, and despite my economic klutzyness, I seem to have finally started to come out of the mess. I feel like I'm in a position where I can fix a lot of what has been so very wrong with my finances within about a year if I make a concerted effort, and some relativly minor changes, including moving to a place that I can more easily afford. I don't want to live somewhere where an entire bi-weekly pay deposit is eaten up by paying rent. It's not a comfortable position to be in, and so I'm looking to do something about it.

So, if you know of anything... you know where to find the comment button; right?

A little self analysis...

2010-01-10T05:44:00.004-05:00

You know, sometimes what you say without thinking is the most telling thing.

While at work the other day, I stumbled into a huge mess of errors and miscommuication by the entire team, that had resulted in a problem. When I called the person who would be responsible for sorting it out, I started the conversation with, "You're not going to like me for this, but..."

Wait, what?

I didn't create the problem. I didn't ignore the problem, and let it get worse. I was actually almost finished resolving the problem, and just needed approval.

Beyond that, why would asking for help result in someone not liking me? Why would I assume that being the bearer of bad news would result in dislike or contempt?

Those who know me would probably say that I don't really care what people think, and that I'm very opinionated, but the fact is, I walk around day to day nervous that people won't like me based on my actions, opinions or beliefs, especially in a professional environment.

I really ought to work on that.

Reality check of the day: People will dislike you for ignoring the problem so that you don't have to be the bad guy. People don't dislike you because you are dealing with a problem and need their help.

Things that you would have learned this week if you were me...

2009-12-11T00:37:00.004-05:00

Long time, no blog!

It's been a pretty intense couple of weeks. I have been working 40+ hours at one job, and 20+ at another. According to my math, that means that I've been averaging anywhere from 60-70 hours a week since I started the new job. You would think that this means that I don't have time to do much learning, and you're probably right, but these are just a few of the many discoveries you would have made if you were living my life this week:

1) You can do anything for a month or two, so long as there is an end in sight.

Working two jobs is positively exhausting, especially because I've been picking up extra hours at both in order to try to cover the expenses incurred while not working enough through most of the summer and fall, as well as the impending holidays. That being said, I'm pushing through and doing it with the best attitude possible with the knowledge that eventually I won't have to do this any more.

2) When people tell you the life you live is not conducive to a canine pet, they're probably right.

I love my dog and y'all know this, but so help me, if I didn't have a dog walker a couple of days a week, I would be screwed. She is a high energy dog and all of my energy is getting eaten up by the extra hours I've been working.

3) Good girlfriends are hard to find, but totally worth the wait!

It's funny, I've never been one to have girlfriends. I guess I've always just been a little course. That being said, I have unexpectedly found a couple of awesome girls who have crazy schedules like mine, who get that instead of spending a day mall-hopping or pub-crawling, maybe a night at home with some knitting and a movie is just the ticket.

These couple of girls are pretty amazing, both holding down 2 jobs or a job + school and some serious family commitments, and both come from backgrounds similar to mine, which means that we have a lot in common on all levels. None of us expected to find good friends at a part time job, but we did and for that I'm immensely grateful.

4) Most girl-on-girl hate and frustration comes from a lack of maturity.

Girls are talented when it comes to undermining the confidence of other women. Most of us are damaged in one way or another, and we recognize it in other women, and when dealing with each other it is really easy to make another girl feel about two inches tall using that small crack for leverage.

Women of a certain maturity level don't participate in this kind of behaviour, but some do, and it doesn't matter how grown up you are, when someone decides to play this kind of game, or use this kind of psychological-warfare-like tactic, it takes a strong woman to not fall victim to it.

5) As a society, we often fix things that aren't broken, and we should really stop it.

I'm all for progress, please don't get me wrong. I just think that certain things were fine the way they were. Sure, I could buy a sweater at a store, but then I've deprived someone I love (or myself) of the time to sit and knit (see: meditate) at the end of the day and make something truly beautiful. I've also deprived a LYS (Little Yarn Shop) of the business for the wool, and the artisan dyer as well. I'm really starting to be concerned about the global impact of these huge companies like Walmart and Target on not only the local economy, but also the creativity in our society.

Broad strokes here, folks. I'm really doing my best to hold my world together, but my perspective on the small things is changing in big ways, and it's forcing me to re-evaluate my focus. This whole extraordinary life thing... I'm working on it, but with that change in focus, comes a lot of reevaluation to be done, and changes to be made.

Patience. I think I need to work on patience.

The things we don't talk about

2009-09-08T14:17:00.002-04:00

As women we don't talk about a lot of things in our life. We dig deep, declare our broad shoulders, and cover up the things that we don't want the world to see. We discuss things that are only considered civilized, appropriate and polite, and this is our downfall.

I grew up in a family where there were things you just didn't discuss, such as money, religion and politics, but also a lot of things that maybe we should have talked about. I sometimes wonder if I would be a different person if we had talked about sex, about sexuality, about relationships with men, with food and body image. The amount of conscious effort that it takes for me to not focus solely on these things in day to day life is absolutely exhausting.

Please don't get me wrong. This isn't a pity party for myself, but for a society of women who hold it together despite the internal monologue that must be going through their heads. It can't be just me.

I know that some of us were raised with great body images, a healthy relationship with food, an understanding of relationships and sex and all of that, but I would be willing to place money on the fact that those are few and far between. I would bet that the greater majority of us appear to be solid as a rock, but that underneath all of that is a little girl, cowering in the corner and wondering what will become of us.

Behind all the professionalism that everyone sees, there is a girl who worries every day about ever calorie of food that crosses her lips to the point that in her twenties she develops a severe eating disorder, with no regard for the fact that the typical eating disorder appears in the teen years, because she feels so out of control. She feels like a failure every day that the scale climbs, or stays the same. She measures her worth by the size of her jeans.

Behind the soccer mom who is taking amazing care of her children, and holding the family together is a woman who is scared every day that she won't be able to satisfy her husband, and so she goes way beyond her comfort in bed with him, just to keep him from going somewhere else. She doesn't know that she has the right to say no when something makes her uncomfortable. She pretends that she loves it, just because she loves him, and when he goes to sleep, she has a shower to wash the dirty feeling off her.

Behind the lawyer in her power suit who takes command of the room as she enters is a woman who is showing a little cleavage to "keep the old boys in line" because no one ever told her that she doesn't have to use her body to get attention, and that attention doesn't equate to respect. She laughs and flirts and seems to love her job, but she goes home every night and works out for 3 hours because she is terrified that if she loses her looks, she's lost in this job and that she'll never move forward.

Now, I'm the first to admit that we can only blame how we were raised for our problems until a certain age. At some point, we become accountable as adults for our actions, however we, as women, do ourselves a great disservice by burying these issues. We don't talk about them with our best girlfriends, our mothers, or our daughters. We take a deep breath, put on a big smile, and take on the world with our best face forward.

I'm of the belief that if we talked about these things, if we knew we were all facing them, it would help us all to find greater peace. Maybe we wouldn't make the same mistakes the next time around. Perhaps we could help each other to be stronger, more confident, to know our limits and to feel better about ourselves in general. Maybe by knowing on a personal level that our sisters, mothers, daughters and friends face the same thing it would help us to all feel a little better and stop hurting ourselves, and subjecting ourselves to unnecessary hurt because we think that we're alone.

On Mistakes, Regret and Making Amends

2009-09-04T14:42:00.005-04:00

We all make mistakes, true story. A few months ago, I made a really big one.

I have a close friend who I was involved with many, many moons ago. We've now known each other for about 10 years, and we are very close. We talk to each other most days, and make a point of doing so. We talk about everything and we're both exceptionally sexual people, and very open minded. There isn't much in this world we haven't discussed as a possibility and when either of us is considering something new, we bounce it off the other before heading off into the wilderness with our respective partners.

He came home from school in the spring, we hung out. We talked about his girlfriend who he was breaking up with, life, him moving home this summer, and everything that we've missed in each other's lives since we've not seen each other. We had a few drinks, cooked some ribs, had a few more drinks, a girlfriend of mine showed up, we had some more drinks.

<<>>

The three of us found ourselves in bed. This wasn't anyone's first rodeo in threesome arena, so no issues that way. We had a good time.

Suddenly, a moment of clarity. He misses her. He calls her. She loses her head. It all goes downhill from there. He spends the next hour fighting and making up with her while pacing around the yard and talking on his cell phone. I am violently ill from the vat of wine that I've consumed. The second girl was laying in bed whining about me not coming to cuddle with her (not my scene.)

He sleeps in the spare room. I sleep in my room. She goes home.

The next day, I get up, he wakes up and we have a very brief conversation about the events of the previous night, none of which are very clear to any of us, and then he high tails it home. We're all feeling a little sheepish about the night's events and about things getting out of hand. I decide to give it some time.

A few days later, I see him pop online for about 10 seconds before he disappears. Strange, but I don't think much of it. Then I go to his facebook page, but we're not linked on there anymore. It dawns on me. I've been cut, and it hurts.

We don't talk for a few months, but it has been weighing on my mind. I feel like shit because things got out of hand, and now I've lost someone who was such a huge part of my life.

I am really mad at myself, I resent him for how he handled it and I feel betrayed because I thought that we had more than one mistake.

Today, I had a really shitty day, one of those days when you need the people you lean on, and who lean on you around.

So I gave in. I reached out. I sent him a text. I called him out on how he handled it, made my apologies and identified that I didn't even know if he had moved home and changed his number and I might be too late.

I sent: I doubt that this is your number anymore, but if it is, I want you to know that the whole thing was stupid and that I didn't intend for that to happen. We're all equally responsible, but I'm sorry just the same. On the other hand, disappearing like you did solves nothing. I hope the rest of your semester went well.

I didn't hear anything for a couple of hours, and I was devastated. I thought that he might still be mad, or that I really had waited too long.

My phone chirps: I handled it badly, it was a huge dick move. She lost her mind and made me erase every trace of you. I'm moving home next week, and I'd like to work it out. I would hate to lose you. She's not worth it if it costs me our relationship, but I didn't know how to reach out. I'm glad you did. I'm sorry.

On a really hard day, I stood in a park and smiled.

Moral of the story: No mistake is too big, if you're willing to take a chance, reach out, and make amends.