Chibi Jeebs

Possibly Unpopular Opinion #11

2012-02-24T08:07:00.001-08:00

#11: I love Tori & Dean's STORIbook Weddings.

So, do we "forgive" Chris Brown now?

2012-02-23T07:23:00.000-08:00

Chris Brown. Rihanna. The Grammys. Unless you live under a rock, you are likely aware of the brouhaha over his performance a couple of weeks ago.

I was outraged when I initially heard of his assault on Rihanna. I was disgusted when I heard he was being courted as The Grammy darling this year (and don't even get me STARTED on The Grammy committee's assertion that they were somehow a victim in all of this). I was shocked seeing the pictures of the damage he inflicted on Rihanna's face again. I was sickened and horrified when I read the police report three years after the fact. I was furious when I read his "fuck my haters" tweets. I was one of those people tweeting and retweeting links when people would ask why everyone was so up in arms over the whole thing.

Then my friend, Lauren (@unxpctdblessing), posed questions that made me stop and think: he's completed his punishment and apologized to Rihanna - at what point do we let it go? Is he a woman beater for the rest of his life?

My gut reaction was that we don't let it go. We never let it go. He is a woman beater for the rest of his life, period. Serving his time or not, apologizing or not, fact of the matter is that he completely lost control of himself, and his reaction to that situation was to lash out with his fists - his teeth - and beat her to a pulp, threatening to kill her.

I'm also aware of the allegations that Rihanna was verbally abusive. However, weren't we all taught as children that hitting is NEVER the answer? That two wrongs don't make a right? I can't wrap my brain around going from being pissed off over a tongue lashing to beating someone to within an inch of her life.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm a touch biased when it comes to physical abuse, what with my mom's history with her mother. Add to that the time Dad completely lost his shit and literally beat - repeated open-handed smacking until her entire hip was purple - Taylor when she was 7 years old, and this is a touchy subject for me.

However, with stories of Chris and Rihanna not just recording together, but getting back together as a couple leaves me at a loss. I've been around long enough to know that sometimes there is a... well, sick connection for lack of a better phrase, between an abused woman and her abuser. But how am I supposed to remain outraged over his behaviour and the fact that so many people are willing to overlook it when Rihanna seems perfectly fine taking the chance of being a human punching bag again? (Don't get me wrong: girlfriend CERTAINLY seems like she could hold her own if she weren't surprised with an attack while seat belted into the confines of a car, but still.)

I still feel very strongly that he shouldn't be absolved of his crimes because they're "in the past." Hell, people are still outraged over Michael Vick and his dog fighting ring. Those were animals. I don't for a SECOND feel that is okay either, for the record. However, we're talking a human being. I just... there's a really big disconnect for me when I try to reconcile people's outrage over a dog fighting ring with people who are willing to shrug off the fact that this man who was INTENT on killing this woman in the heat of the moment. At the same time, I can't help but wonder if I'm making a mountain out of a molehill by holding on to something that doesn't even seem to be an issue to the victim any longer - it makes me feel almost like a patsy.

Do we let it go because Rihanna appears to have let it go? Do we continue to be outraged over the atrocious violation against her, even when she can't/won't/isn't interested in being outraged? Do we forgive him his sins because he completed his "time"?

I just don't know.

Wordless Wednesday: The "I Bought It" Edition

2012-02-22T08:06:00.000-08:00

(Only bought the container: already owned all the preciousssss.)

Pinned It: Did It #3

2012-02-21T13:09:00.000-08:00

Source

Between Pinterest and Polyvore, there are SO many gorgeous outfits, purses, accessories, and shoes to see that it almost boggles the mind. Even though I'm a shorty (5'2), I love flats - LOVE! Thanks to Pinterest, leopard-print flats became a NEED (it's the only amount of animal print I think I can safely pull off without feeling all self-conscious and awkward-arm-flail-ish).

$10, yo.

What's the best thing you've seen on Pinterest this week? Link up with Sarah Bee! Need an invite? Shoot me your email address and I'll hook you up!

Dose of Happy Monday #DOHMonday

2012-02-20T15:57:00.000-08:00

Over at ~~my home away from home~~ Band Back Together, we like to take Mondays by the you-know-whats and make them go OUR way. We do this with Dose of Happy Mondays: we look for reasons to be happy on Mondays, then link them up and/or share on Twitter with the #DOHMonday hashtag. I haven't participated yet (and I can't think of another topic: it's our first Family Day here in Alberta - cut me some slack!), so here's my list:

Long weekends (thanks, Family Day!)
Three weeks of almost uninterrupted sunshine
Hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon

Early morning grocery shopping before it gets busy
"Sleepovers" with BFFs
Being really happy where we are with what we have
Feeling like we made the best decision (which, so far, has turned out to be a GREAT decision) by moving here
Excitement for our future

So, what about you? What are you happy for this Monday? Share in the comments, or link up at Band Back Together!

Sunday Sound-Off

2012-02-19T16:25:00.000-08:00

Shared it:

This is something I really need to do: Learn to Listen to What Your Body is Saying at Positively Positive.
Why Adele's "Someone Like You" makes everyone cry.
Project Unbreakable is a powerful, heartbreaking photo blog that seeks to help survivors of sexual abuse by photographing them with the words spoken by their attackers.
An awesome letter by Carissa Rogers to her pre-teen daughter urging empathy and compassion.
My hilarious friend Joules's gut-busting take on The Bloggess's #juanitaweasel meme.

Appreciated it:

Organizing my music
Being able to laugh and have fun
Talking it out
Perspective
Chebbar <3

Turbulent

2012-02-17T12:13:00.000-08:00

It's amazing how one bad day can set you off.

I woke up irritable. I hadn't sleep well, Aunt Flo was visiting, and she brought Cousin Back Pain with her; needless to say, I wasn't the happiest camper. I was feeling cranky and grumpy and probably a little woe-is-me. I sat with my ass firmly planted on the couch, all the while thinking about how "gross" I am - fat, lazy, disgusting, etc.

"No more!" I declared. "I need to take control of my health and start looking after myself. This is ridiculous. But, uh, I'll start NEXT week [excuse, excuse, excuse (some of which are valid, but still not really GOOD REASONS to procrastinate further)]." (I know. I KNOW! I really do know better, I swear. But. Shhhhh.)

Then the mail arrived bearing an envelope from my old job. The old job that unceremoniously removed me from the contracted project they hired me to do in January. The one they ASSURED ME I could do remotely, that the move would be JUST FINE. The one I found out was no longer mine from a friend they solicited to do the work instead. Nice way to find out you can kiss $2,500 goodbye, hey? When I found out, I was understandably ticked off; I sent an email with the invoice for the work I had already done and instructions on where to send the cheque, so I figured that's what was in the envelope.

Nope. My T-4. (With my SIN number incorrect, by the by.)

This somehow sparked a shame spiral of "I suck. I'm never going to get this virtual assistant business off the ground [moving a province away and leaving all my established contacts behind kind of threw a monkey wrench in the whole thing to my mind]. I might as well quit while I'm ahead. I shouldn't even bother trying: I should just find a REAL job. But what if no one will hire me? I suck! [Because CLEARLY being laid off for a whopping 2.5 months means I've lost all the skills I learned in the last seven years.] And I'm fat! And gross! And suck! OMG, SO MANY PEOPLE KNOW ABOUT THE BUSINESS, THOUGH! They're gonna know I FAILED! *shame spiral**shame spiral**shame spiral*"

Oh, and while I'm at it, I'm lazy. I'm frittering away my lay-off getting lost in the worm hole that is the internet - I'm starting to realize just how easy it is to sit down for "just a second," and look up THREE HOURS LATER. (Chebbar figures it's not a big deal if I do this: as he pointed out, I've never had time off like this since I started working 20 years ago, so why not take advantage while I can.) However, there's stuff I wanted to DO while I'm not working (on top of giving the VA thing an honest-to-god chance and trying to get back to a place where my body feels good and I'm more peaceful), like learning how to use my camera and working on the self-esteem stuff and opening those colouring books I bought for stress relief A YEAR AGO.

When Chebbar got home, we started talking and he (gently) pointed out that the mail from the old job kind of served as a reminder of what didn't work - NOT that it will never work, nor that it was MY fault: it was just a tangible reminder of "Hey, these guys kinda screwed you over!" He also (gently) pointed out that I had been having a really good week up until Aunt Flo arrived.

I use a Mood Tracker on Med Help. It's really helpful: it allows me to track my moods right down to the half hour, including symptoms/feelings, medications, contributing issues (work, relationship, etc.), and even has a little journal feature if you feel like explaining your day. It looks, in part, something like this:

The big gaps are the weeks in January when we were moving ALLLLLL THE THINGS! However, you can see that I've had nine good days in a row, followed by three excellent days before plummeting to a bad day yesterday. BUT! You can clearly see - as I did - that I had NINE good days in a row and THREE excellent days before feeling like shit!

I still feel... nervous, fearful, uncertain about the VA gig, and I'm still not happy with the state of my body and/or health, but it's a little easier to be cautiously optimistic and hopeful of change and/or meeting goals when I have a very tangible visual aid to show me that it was literally one bad day out of thirteen.

Then I got on Pinterest and saw this:

Source (But please don't click it: it's th1nsp0 garbage.

And if you're lucky enough to not know what "th1nsp0" is, do yourself

a favour and DON'T Google it: it will shake your faith in humanity.)

Okay, Universe. Point taken.

Did I ever tell you about the time my mom just about got herself shot in the mall?

2012-02-16T14:43:00.000-08:00

No, really: true story.

It was about a week before Halloween. The Business Improvement Association was doing its annual Send Your Boss to Jail event (companies could nominate their bosses to be tossed in a "cell" in the middle of the mall; the boss would have to buy his/her way out).

Source

Mom, Taylor, and I had gone to the mall and in the entrance near the "cell." Taylor met up with her friends and headed for the food court; Mom and I headed for the bookstore. As we walked toward the store, to guys in wet, squeaky running shoes and balaclavas. Mom and I kind of looked at them as they shoved their way through the crowd, but didn't really think much of it (again: a week before Halloween and that stupid jail thing).

We were in the bookstore directly across from a jewellery store when the masked men started yelling and banging on the display cases with guns. The staff were screaming. Everyone else was frozen in place. Until my mom's Mama Bear brain kicked in.

She gasped, "Taylor!" REALLY loud and started RUNNING for the entrance of the bookstore.

Needless to say, this caught the attention of the robbers. One of them turned, pointed the gun directly at my mother's head, and shouted, "Don't move!"

She, uh, wasn't listening (or didn't hear him) and fought me as I tried desperately to keep her in place.

The guys got what they came for, ran out the same way they came in, and were in their getaway car and long gone before mall security even showed up.

Taylor? Safely ensconced in a Bootlegger fitting room, completely oblivious.

Scared the living hell out of me. I honestly thought I was going to see my mother shot right in front of me. Needless to say, after being questioned by the police, I did a shot of... rum? vodka? drain cleaner? the second we got home.

I don't think they ever did catch those guys.

This Is Why I Love You: Valentine's Day Edition

2012-02-15T12:55:00.000-08:00

I shudder to think of the cost, but DAMN the sentiment is sweet. <3

Haters gonna LOVE

2012-02-14T09:03:00.000-08:00

Source

Quit hating on Valentine's Day and tell someone - ANYONE: your mom, your dog, your mailman - you love 'em. Go love somebody.

xoxo

Sunday Sound-Off

2012-02-12T12:03:00.000-08:00

Wow! It's been over a month since my last Sunday Sound-Off post - moving a province away in a week will do that to you, I guess!

Shared it:

A beautiful letter by Julie Keon to parents of special needs children: What I Would Tell You.
Karl Lagerfeld (the Oompa Loompa Q-Tip man) slagged on Adele (the most beautiful, talented performer on the planet at the moment IM(not so)HO) for being "a little fat." Margaret Cho (my effing hero) fired back.
Christie Inge is a life and body image coach. Her writing is bang-on every. single. time. "And just like that" explains how transforming your body hatred into self-love takes time, effort, and patience. (Seriously, if you're not reading her, you SHOULD be. Go. Now. Do it.)
Medicinal Marzipan encourages us to dig deep to get rid of shame.
They're talking about the addiction to perfection over on Curvy Yoga.

Appreciated it:

Seeing best friends after more than a year
Ikea!
Getting over my fear and intimidation and breaking out the big, scary camera
Free-writing instead of eating my feelings
Life. It's good, y'all.

Because I dare sing that song when I see her name...

2012-02-10T10:24:00.000-08:00

@roxisbrilliant tagged me in a meme (thanks a lot, @handflapper) (no, really: thank you - I'm one of those weird-ass annoying meme-liking people) (please don't unfollow me).

I have to answer @roxisbrilliant's 11 questions, come up with 11 of my own, then tag 11 bloggers to keep the ball rolling. Here goes nothing!

1. Why the hell did your parents give you that name?
Mom suggested it; The Donor didn't like it; they discussed more (Jennifer, Candy (CANDY - can you BELIEVE it?!? I'm not sweet enough to be named Candy!); finally The Donor suggested it like it was his brilliant idea. *snort* My first name is after a cousin, and my middle name was for a great grandmother.

2. Is there a song with your name in it that everyone sings as if you’ve never heard the song before? Is it sung by Sting? What about Ewan Macgregor? That’s what I thought.
GRAH, yes! But no, not by Sting. I don't even know who sings it: I hate it too much to look it up. (It's an old song. Older than me, even.)

3. What was your first job? Why did you ever leave?
McDonald's. Because I was too short to play Ronald McDonald.

Source

4. Have you bought a copy of Barcode yet? Why the hell not?
Nope: didn't know what it was before now. Thank you for the link: that was very helpful and considerate of you.

5. Isn’t Handflapper one of the most beautiful women on the Twitter? The orange shirt and martini glass really bring out the red in her lips.
Handflapper's sexy and she knows it.

6. How many is too many when it comes to browser tabs?
When they crash my browser.

7. Can you name any Jeremy London movies without looking it up? (Mallrats doesn’t count. That just proves you read this post.)
Dazed & Confused? Or was that his brother? Or am I thinking of the wrong guy entirely? I seem to mix up Jeremy London and Jeremy Irons. (I KNOW! Shut up.)

8. What is one stereotype people usually associate with you? Is it true?
Oh, gosh. I'm not sure. A lot of people think I'm a prude (and I am Prudy McPruderson, Mayor of Prudeville with some stuff) and are mouth-agape-shocked when I crack a dirty joke or cuss like a sailor.

9. If you were a tree, what kind of animal would you be?
Strawberry ice cream.

10. Why do papercuts hurt so damn much?
It's a conspiracy.

11. What is your all-time favorite book?
Where the Wild Things Are

Now for my questions for YOU!

What colour are your underwear right now?
What's your least favourite food?
Does it bother you when I put extra letters in my word? Well, too bad: I'm Canadian, eh?
How do you like your eggs?
What book are you currently reading? Should I read it?
Did you have an imaginary friend? What was his/her name?
What is your guiltiest pleasure, keeping in mind I'm Prudy McPruderson, Mayor of Prudeville?
If you could have any job in the whole wide world, what would it be?
Do you watch Toddlers & Tiaras?
What CD is in your CD player? (Do you still have one of those? If not, what was the last song played on your MP3 player? Should I be listening to them/her/him/it?)
Shoes: off at the door, or wear 'em through the house?

Okay, your turn @daydreaminfool, @queenofpink, @jhbtook, @leighish, @nannyanya, @mrsoneday, @magandmoo, @mercurialnature, @walkercynthia, @mommahopeful, and all the fluffers (you know who you are *wink*).

Doing It Up Little House On The Prairie-Style

2012-02-08T13:28:00.000-08:00

Alternately titled: Things I Miss About "Home" #1

Apparently we have the smallest hot water tank in alllll the land (or the one at home was the largest ever). Chebbar can have a 10 minute shower at 6:30; if I try to do the same FIVE HOURS LATER, I'm lucky if I make it through minute 7 before running out of hot water. It's ridiculous. The landlord blames it on the not-low-flow shower head installed by the last tenants; she told me to replace it with a small, low-flow one and she'd reimburse me when she gets back from her two week vacation.

Shower head, you say? Okay, sure! Makes sense. (Chebbar had it at juuuuust the right angle yesterday so that when I turned it on and stepped in, I was blasted right in the fact - it was like a fire hose!) Today I decide to treat myself to a bath: doesn't involve the shower head, so I should be fine, right?

HA!

I am currently waiting for the kettle to boil so I can try to top up my half-full of luke-warm water (oh, did I mention the !@#$ing plug wasn't fitting properly?) tub. I can't even have a shower instead because there's no hot water, which means even if I *do* manage to fill it temperately, I can't wash my hair. Good thing me and my greasy head don't need to be anywhere tomorrow!

*sigh*

I texted Chebbar (because it is slightly funny) and told him I wouldn't worry about my hair today so he'd (hopefully) have enough hot water to shower tonight. His response? "No worries. I'll just have a whore's bath. HAHAHA" (He's enjoyed that phrase FAR too much since hearing it from my mother's mouth (which I'm sure is part of why he finds it so funny) two weeks ago.)

Update: Well, THAT didn't work. By the time I got back upstairs with the kettle, the water in the tub was bordering on too cold. I wasted Epsom salts, bubble bath, and a whole lotta water for nothing. If this means no baths for a year, I'll cry.

He'll be a lucky whore if there IS any hot water by the time he gets home.

Source

How do I dress for the cold?

2012-02-07T14:25:00.000-08:00

Our move to ~~the wild Canadian tundra~~ Alberta is complete. We've settled in and, aside from a few errant boxes in the living room *cough*Chebbar*cough*, it feels a lot like home (yay!).

However. I'm having a hard time adjusting to the temperatures. I think. If I go out in a light "spring" jacket, I end up too warm (so that awesomely warm winter jacket I bought when we came out here a couple of weeks ago? Way! Too! Warm!). If I go out in a hoodie with a T-shirt underneath, I freeze outside, but sweat in stores. I can't tell if the stores are just super warm to combat the cold outside or if my body just isn't regulating its internal thermostat effectively.

How am I supposed to dress for this cold? Layers? How many? How thick/heavy/warm? What about my poor freaking legs? Long johns under everything? Help!

Possibly Unpopular Opinion #5

2012-02-06T09:48:00.000-08:00

#5: I recently tried red velvet cake for the first time. I really didn't think it was anything special. Rating: meh.

Chris Blakely via Flickr

Moving On

2012-02-02T09:53:00.000-08:00

So much happened in the past few weeks that my brain is having difficulty settling on any one thing long enough to sift through the details...

There were a few *ahem* disagreements. A few lessons learned. Some eye opening (holy CRAP were we oblivious to the cost of a cross-province move!).

And boxes. Lots and lots of boxes. (Again, oblivious: we were lulled into a false sense of security and thought we had less stuff than we did and that it would take exponentially less time to pack everything than it did).

We weren't finished loading the moving truck until 11:15pm on the Thursday. We had eaten lunch at 12:30 and figured we'd be done by dinner time (we were invited to Mom & Brad's for dinner and to stay the night so we could pack the beds), so we worked through. Until 11:15pm. Chebbar and his dad kept joking about it being a union job and "union breaks." However. When you've been going for 14 hours straight, going down to find them 20 minutes after their last load to find them propping up the hand truck AGAIN is enough to make you break down in tears of frustration, or so I've heard.

We thought the truck was going to be too big. We ended up having to leave both desk chairs, the desk, the freezer, the microwave, both portable air conditioners, Chebbar's bike, and two media stands. We have not yet figured out how the eff we'll get them here, as both of our options will likely require ANOTHER $1,000. *dies*

When we left, we went to McPuke's. The first one we went through was only accepting cash. The second one made us wait (no word of a lie) 5 minutes to order. All I wanted was sugary, carby comfort food: two apple pies for dinner, plzkthx. "Sorry! We're out of apple pies. Would you like to try our new chocolate Oreo pies?" HELL TO THE NO. Cue the tears. Again. (Shuddup.) We didn't get to Mom & Brad's until 11:45, where Chebbar was over-tired, over-hungry, and anti-social, going straight downstairs to the spare room after a briefly mumbled "hello" to my mom. o_O

I begged off after about 15 minutes because I was exhausted and new 6am would come early. Mom assured me she'd see us in the morning. Neither of us slept well. I got to see Brad before he left for work, but Mom was still in bed when we left. I know she hasn't been sleeping well, so I didn't want to disturb her (plus, as I explained to Chebbar, it wouldn't surprise me if it was intentional because it would be easy than saying goodbye). We were on the road by 7:15 after NECESSARY showers (we stunk, yo); the phone rang about half an hour after we hit the road: it was Mom, and she was heartbroken - her alarm didn't go off. :( She started to cry on the phone because she "didn't get to say goodbye to [her] baby!" which of course made me cry.

While in the car with Pops behind us in the moving truck, we heard a road report for the Coquihalla saying they were going to close it for 4 hours at 9am for avalanche control. Aww, shiiiiit. So, do we press on, hoping we get through (and NOT smothered by an avalanche), or detour, adding at least 2 hours to our 12-hour trip? (Spoiler alert: we pressed on, made it through before they closed the highway, and SURPRISE! were not avalanched on.)

We ended up stopping for the night, which originally was frustrating because I just wanted to get here, but it turned out to be a great decision because we all (finally) got a good night's sleep. We were back on the road by 7:30 and arrived in Edmonton at 11am. We had the truck unloaded in about 2 hours. Why the HELL did it take so long to load?!? LMAO

We had some good down-time visiting with Chebbar's dad that night, then took him to the airport Sunday morning. *sniffles* Being here ALL! ALONE! made me weepy about missing my mama and ZOMG! what if this doesn't work? what if we HATE each other?!?

We don't. ;)

This place is starting to feel like home; Chebbar's enjoying the new job; my best friends will be moving here next month. If I could only figure out a way to teleport our family here whenever we wanted, it would be PERFECT!

Our first official welcome mat

Wordless Instagram Wednesday

2012-02-01T14:55:00.000-08:00

Read: still not quite ready to recount the ZOMG!MOOOOOVE!

HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP!

2012-01-20T23:59:00.000-08:00

If you've missed my oft-uttered refrain around teh intarwebz of late, let's play catch up!

Mid-December, Chebbar applied for a job in the field of his freshly-completed schooling. Just before Christmas, he was asked to come in for an interview (but not until the New Year). The interview seemed to go well, but he never heard back about the conference call that was supposed to take place.

We went on with our day-to-day lives. He started applying for any job he could find.

Last Friday, he was offered the job. In Edmonton. 1,000km (660+ miles) away from where we - and both of our families - currently live. He was then asked to come in on (this past) Monday to meet with the president of the company. He was told they'd fly him out that day if he was ready to go.

He (read: WE) wasn't.

Tuesday, we hopped in the car and drove to Edmonton. We had some of the worst winter weather we've seen in years - we're talking three feet of snow, going 30km/hour behind semi trucks that couldn't navigate the blowing snow and drifts. The 12-hour trip took us 14 hours. We got in to Edmonton at 11:30 Tuesday night and collapsed into the (so comfortable, I woke up with NO PAIN both mornings) hotel bed.

Oh, did I mention that Edmonton was having its coldest snap all winter? -40 Celsius with the wind chill? Yeah, that.

Our mechanic called us to report that the car did NOT have a block heater and that we needed to get to a dealership ASAP before our antifreeze, well, froze. They were able to get us in because the other people who had appointments from the day before still hadn't shown up because it was too cold to start their cars and tow trucks were taking 8-12 hours to get to calls.

We tried to book a rental car so we could go look at rental properties while the car was in the shop. No one had any cars available because the people who had them couldn't return them because they couldn't start them because it was too cold.

We ended up getting the car back early and went to look at one townhouse. It was a winner. We paid a security deposit half an hour after touring the place.

We were up while it was still dark on Thursday to head back home (for now). This time the trip only took 12 hours because the roads were better.

We will be spending the next few days seeing family and friends and packing up all our shit so we can load a moving truck and hit the highway again next Friday.

I'm... a mass of emotions. Excited. Scared. Stressed. Curious. Worried. Sad. I'm going to miss my family. It's going to be weird to be so far away: I've never lived more than 10 minutes away from my parents.

It's going to be good, but it's going to require a lot of breathing and a lot of faith.

Them thar hills be The Rockies, dudes.

Hate-Loss Challenge: Week Two

2012-01-12T16:53:00.000-08:00

After reading Ellen's post discussing how difficult it was to repeat the positive reinforcements and how she originally started by telling herself she was not the negative things on the list, I decided to give that a try this week. This appealed to me because the positive reinforcements weren't ringing true to my ears (particularly "beautiful" - I still have trouble using that word to describe myself). It's felt much more realistic to say "I'm NOT a failure, etc, etc" before moving on to "I am strong, etc, etc."

Think about the answers to these esteem-deflating questions. How often do you carry these thought around with you on a daily basis?

My life would be so much better if I were only:
more content with who I am and how I look. (often)

I’d be so much happier if I had a better:
opinion of myself. (often)

I wish I weighed:
less. (not that often, actually, and never a specific number)

When I look in the mirror, the first thing I criticize about myself is my:
skin. (often)

The one negative word that I use about myself over and over again is:
failure. (more often than not... *shame face*)

Now, answer these questions:
I often receive the most compliments on my:
ability to be supportive.

What I admire most about myself when I look at my reflection is:
my eyes or my smile.

I take pride in my:
loyalty.

I love the fact that I can:
. . . erm . . . I'm drawing a blank. . . ?

My greatest quality is:
my empathy.

Oh because even when I was flat broke

2012-01-11T18:36:00.000-08:00

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Bev and I drifted apart after the last confrontation, partially because I was starting to see her for what she was and partially because I had graduate, so was no longer going to her house after school every day.

She didn't like this.

Upon graduation, I met a guy named Dave who was a few years older than me. He was also from a very traditional, devout family who had him convinced that - at 21 - he was far too old to be unmarried. Within three weeks of dating, he was pressuring me about marriage. I was only 18, had just graduated high school (read: didn't have a clue what I wanted to do with my life), and had watched my mother go through three marriages. Needless to say, I did not take his pressure kindly. After explaining this to him, and him not being able to stop, I ended up breaking up with him. He threatened suicide. That was awesome.

Not long after that, I met Matt, which was a disaster and a half. Then Jeff, which was another disaster and a half. I continued working in Big Box Retail Store hell (was there for 10.5 years, and it was soul-crushing). I started university with the intention of getting into teaching, but after taking an Intro to Criminal Justice course, completely changed my mind.

I dated a handful of guys, all briefly. I seemed to break things off before they went too far or got too serious (read: the sex); I have a feeling it was lingering bullshit from Matt. When I turned 19, I turned into a bit of a "bar star" in that I was there pretty much every weekend and often both Friday and Saturday nights (what can I say? I'm from a small town with noth.ing. to do). I wasn't a big drinker, volunteering to be the designated driver the majority of the time.

Fast forward a few years. Mom had to have a hysterectomy for a fibroid tumor that had grown to the size of her uterus (because she hadn't had a pap test in EIGHT YEARS. Get tested regularly, ladies!). We were having a family dinner the night before because - much like with them going anywhere by plane - she was superstitious-ish about anesthetic and getting in "one more dinner" with her family, "just in case."

She had been really stressed out by the upcoming operation; the more time that passed with no call from Bev, the angrier she got: Bev had a hysterectomy years before, but she'd been through it, so surely she could have told Mom what to expect. Instead, Bev chose to call the night before, interrupting dinner, to do nothing but talk about Donna (even though Mom had asked asked Bev MULTIPLE times not to discuss Donna with her: at Taylor's 5th birthday, Donna got it in her head that Mom and a friend were talking about her, so she grabbed our cousin and stormed out. She CHOSE not to speak to Mom - or the rest of us - after that. They still don't speak). Mom was understandably annoyed and got off the phone.

The day after her surgery, Gramps called to talk to Brad, saying that Bev felt "uncomfortable" visiting Mom in the hospital because she felt like she "wasn't welcome." Brad finally had enough and told Gramps that he, Bev, and Mom had a lot of things to discuss. That was the last time we heard from them.

A few months later, Taylor got a card with a cheque in the mail from the grandparents. Two weeks later, I got an empty card. I thought it was odd, but thought maybe Bev forgot to put the birthday cheque in the card. I stopped in to see Gramps not long after and found him to be very brusque and cold; the only reason I could come up with was that I hadn't gushed over my $0.37 card from a random box of impersonal Amway cards - rude, sure, but I didn't really feel that deserved gushing over.

Six weeks later, Nick got a card... with a cheque in the mail. It became plainly evident that I had been excluded on purpose, although none of us could figure out why. All these years later, all we could come up with was that they figured I was my mother's daughter and had no brain or opinion of my own, so if Mom wasn't talking to them (or they weren't talking to her), I was persona non grata as well.

That Christmas, they pulled the same shit: dropped off cards with cheques at Dad's for Nick and Taylor with nothing for me. 17-year old Nick got in his car, drove to their house, and handed back his card, telling them that if they weren't going to acknowledge his sister, he didn't want their gift either. That's when Bev got on the phone and - IN FRONT OF NICK - demanded I "name [my] price." Any amount: she'd write a cheque if *I* would stop ignoring THEM. 1) *I* wasn't the one who stopped talking to them, and b) how could she SAY that in front of Nick? "Oh, you're only worth $100, but your sister's worth ANY amount."

Mind? BLOWN.

My Health Challenge: Week Two #myhc

2012-01-09T17:10:00.000-08:00

Whelp, my gung-ho'edness bit me in the ass again. I did too much, too soon without finishing the week of muscle relaxants I'd been prescribed. So I gave my head a shake, sat myself down, and asked for assvice. I restarted the muscle relaxants and swore off anything more than walking (which we did: we walked three times last week, plus my elliptical, yoga, and weight workouts before I quit - I did 8km last week).

We walked yesterday and today; we'll continue to do so the rest of the week. Friday will be home-free day as far as the muscle relaxants are concerned. A friend suggested that I might not be giving myself enough of a break before working the same groups of muscles again, so my tentative plan - depending on what my body tells me, of course: REALLY gotta start listening to that thing! - is to walk as many days as possible (2km = 30 minutes), do free weights on Mondays and Fridays, and yoga on Wednesdays. And as per the comments on Friday's post, as soon as we have some money coming in, I'll look at heading to the leisure center to swim.

I'm looking forward to getting back to it because I'm remembering how damned GOOD I feel when I'm active consistently.

How about you guys? Anyone still sticking to their New Year's resolutions/goals? Anyone still doing @annieology's pushup challenge (Chebbar still is!)?

Sunday Sound-Off (with a bonus entry at the end!)

2012-01-08T18:12:00.000-08:00

Shared it:

My very favouritest make-me-feel-good-about-myself blogger, Medicinal Marzipan, explains why you are worth the effort. Have I mentioned she's my favourite? I pink puffy heart love her.
The Bloggess explains why I am so open with my depression struggles (and also why I work as much as I do on Band Back Together) in her post "Wow."
Do you love yourself? I'm trying!
10 journaling tips to help you heal, grow, and thrive via Tiny Buddha.
And for shits and giggles, check out Pinterest, You Are Drunk. heheheh

Appreciated it:

Hope
Motivation
Walking
Being here now
Chebbar <3

I've been working on the Hate-Loss Challenge since the first of the year. It involved writing out a list of positive and complimentary words that I am supposed to say out loud to myself at least once a day, as well as a list of negative or derogatory words that I'm not supposed to say about myself. I posted the list on the bathroom mirror so I could see it easily and often. I've been reading the positives to myself in the morning and before bed.

It hasn't been too difficult to read the positives, although it does feel a little cheesy and forced, especially considering I'm trying to sound all upbeat and stuff. I'm definitely having trouble refraining from using the "bad" words: they're just so common in my self-talk.

Week One:
This week's exercise is to think back to a time in my life where I formed negative thoughts about myself (Ha! Just one?!?).

Why do you think you are undeserving of praise?
I don't really think I do anything praise-worthy...

Was there a specific event that caused you to change the way you perceive yourself?
I can't really pinpoint a specific time or incident that made me decide to talk to myself like an asshole - it's honestly been such a part of who I am for so long, I don't remember a time without negative self-talk (unless I go extreme and think back to when I was six-years old).

Is it because you’ve always been reminded of your imperfections or weaknesses?
Not necessarily: it's not like I grew up with harping parents who grounded me if I didn't get an A+. I'm really not sure where my perfectionism came from or why I beat myself up when I (inevitably) "fail."

Is it because you’re not receiving enough positive feedback from people whose opinions really matter to you?
Ahhh. Very likely, yes. I'd come home from school with a 93% on a test and instead of hearing "Good job!" I'd hear "Well, where's the other 7%?" My own mother didn't refer to me as "pretty" until I was 29.

Do you have unrealistic expectations of yourself?
Yup. I expect far more of myself than I would EVER expect of anyone else. I have to do everything perfectly the first time through without any help. If I don't do that - even when it's a brand new task I've never done before - my self-talk is deplorable.

Were you taught these habits from living in an unhealthy environment?
Mmm... I'm not sure. Possibly/probably? (I don't want to be all "It's all my parents' FAULLLLLT!")

How can I find a way to forgive those who have hurt me?
I think I've pretty much done this, or at least gotten a good handle on it last year through writing letters and such.

How can I forgive myself?
Oy. This is going to be significantly harder because I don't know how to cut myself slack. However, I know it's necessary in order to stop hating myself. Beating myself up all the time hasn't worked so far: time to try something new.

A Band-mate needs YOUR support

2012-01-07T16:03:00.000-08:00

Crystal, one of our cherished Band Back Together members, just learned that her 5-year old son has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. They have set up a Caring Bridge site to keep people up to date on Jack's journey; there is also an email address to send Jack get well ecards and cards or packages can be forwarded as well (please email me or any of the other Band Back Together members if you'd like more information). We're also using the #jackonaut hash tag on twitter to send Jack messages. And if you click through to Band Back Together's post, you can get the code necessary to display "Jack's kicking cancer's ass" button on your blog.

Jack is a super upbeat, happy little guy, and his mama is one of the strongest women I know, but everyone needs all the support, love, prayers, juju, or whatever else you believe in they can get at a time like this.

Another you can do - not just for Jack, but for people everywhere - is to join the Be The Match bone marrow registry. For the month of January, American Express is covering the cost of the kit (and it's SO easy: all you have to do is swab the inside of your cheek and mail it off). (Again, click through to Band Back Together's post for more info and links.)

I need some assvice, please

2012-01-06T11:50:00.000-08:00

I am horribly out of shape. I am also overweight, but that's less of a concern to me because I am otherwise healthy (according to my doctor, who gave me shit for calling myself "healthy fat"). I will get a bug up my ass and decide to Do Something About It and go balls to the wall, forgetting that I've ~~had a couch tied to my ass~~ been sedentary for a long time. And then I pay for it.

I've mentioned my chronic back pain here and on Twitter; it's something I've dealt with for years with no real hope of having it go away completely forever. Here's the thing: that ass bug will show up, telling me (and rightly so) that I would feel better if I was active more and/or lost some weight; he'll also remind me that I used to workout five days a week. I'll agree with said ass bug and throw myself into a new exercise routine all gung-ho-like. I'll do too much too soon and pay for it.

(I was to take a week's worth of muscle relaxants after Christmas for my back. I got all caught up in the #myhc on Twitter and flew into it like I was Jillian Michaels (on Monday, we went for a 2km walk, then I did 2km on the elliptical, followed by free weights, then 45 minutes of yoga on Tuesday (when I've only done it once before) - after having done ZE.RO. exercise for AT LEAST six weeks.) This was BEFORE giving the muscle relaxants the prescribed week to work on my back. Needless to say, by yesterday, I was crouched over like your 92-year old grannie.)

So. Despite wanting to kick my ass into shape YESTERDAY and trying to ignore the ass bug that's whispering in my ear, pointing out that I don't feel *that* bad and that I should just push THROUGH the pain, I've started the week of muscle relaxants over. (However, we will still do our 2km/30 minute walks five days a week.)

What I need to know is how I should be starting out as a sedentary, out-of-shape person. Clearly balls-to-the-wall five days a week does NOT agree with my body, but I have no idea how much is enough and/or too little. My Google-Fu skills are failing me, and I can't seem to find a... prescribed amount of time/number of workouts for someone just starting out (because, let's face it: as much as I don't want to admit it, I pretty much AM just starting out). However, I know I have a lot of very smart readers who might be able to help me out. Is adding, say, three days of weight/resistance training to my walking schedule okay? HALP ME! I'm tired of overdoing it and sidelining myself with a(nother) freaking injury. *sigh*

Possibly Unpopular Opinion #22

2012-01-05T20:44:00.000-08:00

#22: Look, I love you. I really do. I swear. However, I probably won't watch your vlog. Ever. BUT! It's not you: it's me - they make ME feel all... awkward-arm-flail. :-s

I call this "Awkward Arm Flail."