Thursday, 31 October 2013

Apparently My Last Three Post Titles Started With "A." So Here's A Fourth

It's all Hallow's Eve today.

Which, cynical me says is the time for the stores to start blasting Christmas music.


No treats or goodies for me this Halloween.  I think I can do it.  Right?

I hope I can do it.

I spent some of my VISA bonus dollar point things and got some packages in the mail.  That was fun.  They were free! 

And I used some of them to get a gift card for a bookstore so then I ordered some free books and now I get to wait for them to arrive too!

I've been back from Burning Man for two months now and I still miss being on holiday.

I got together with my co-worker Mark last week and his wife and I had a nice time looking through each other's pictures and reminiscing.

Mark likes to keep his work life and his personal life separate so I'm happy that he's making a slight exception with me.  I do hope the three of us can continue being friends.  I like them a lot.  They're good people.

So, yeah.  I need a vacation.  Again.  But both work and my finances won't let me.  Maybe I should plan a weekend getaway.  But it's not so fun to do that on your own.

Kind of a random post, eh?

So... Happy Hallowe'en, and stuff.  And let's not talk about the candy I'm not having ok?


Wednesday, 30 October 2013

A Month

Perfectly Coloured by foundimagination
I'm not really out of the funk I fell into this month, but I'm not at the bottom of it any more.  Just... still in it.

As my friend pointed out, a lot of it is work related, and while I do my best to not bring work up here, I may have to talk about it a bit... maybe.

This whole month, I've been working on making positive changes.

I'm twenty something days into my 365 Project with my friend, and I'm enjoying drawing every day.  Maybe I have some natural talent.  But I also have some training and it's coming back.  I'm remembering things, techniques and whatnot.  And I'm also enjoying some of the results.  Some of the things I've drawn (or painted) I like.  And I guess I'd say I'm proud of them.  Happy, for sure.  And that's a nice feeling.

I've found some moments where I'll be shading or just not thinking too much about what I'm drawing and it's like time does a weird suspension kind of thing.  Not sure if it slows down or if I just don't notice it passing.  Zone out kind of.

It's cool, because I never got rid of my art supplies.  I've still got all my pencils, and paintbrushes and colours.  And now that I'm not a starving student anymore, I've made a couple of trips to the art supply store and supplemented my collection.

A cool new eraser here, a replacement for that particular pencil there.

I remember learning that once a pencil lead had shattered, usually because it was dropped, it would just keep breaking whenever you sharpened it.  And this one particular pencil just kept breaking.

So I went and bought a replacement.

Which I then accidentally dropped as I took it out of the paper bag when I got home.


Maybe it's fine, but I'm thinking it might be another trip's worth soon.

So there's been that... the "draw something every day."  And there's been me trying harder with my exercise.

Trying the 30 Day Shred video.  Doing a mini-workout at lunch at work on days when I can.  And feeling fitter and stronger, even if the scale isn't changing and the flab is still there.

Like I said before, I wish the changes were instant and overnight.  I wish I did twenty situps and suddenly there was no overflow on top of my belt.

If only it were as easy to lose weight and tone and tighten as it is to put weight on and lose fitness.


I'm also starting a new eating plan this week.

I hate to call it a diet because that conjures up images I'm not supportive of.

I went back to my dietician/nutritionist and talked about feeling addicted to sugar and feeling like certain things, like sugar, made me feel puffy and unwell, and she made me a meal plan that's "low FODMAP" which makes me think of "BEDMAS" (do you remember that from Elementary school?) and I also had her tell me that I'm not to have any sweet treats or sugar for the next month.

I'll still have fruit and... well, fruit is sweet and I'm sure I'll love it, but last week I ate all my favourite treats... like a kind of goodbye.

I've been pretty much low gluten, but the next four weeks will also be back to no gluten.  And a few other things.  I think the idea is that my digestive system gets a break from foods that might be bothering it, and then once it's rested, we maybe try a few more things back and see how I do with them.

Like gum.  Which has a sweetener in it that can bother digestion.

(I managed to find sweetener free, natural gum though.  So... yay for being able to still chew on the drive to work if I want to.  I'm a creature of habit you see.)

So that's starting this week, and wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten to that low of "Man, I hate how I look and feel about my body right now."

Maybe I can go back to Burning Man with the same body but stronger.  Feeling more proud of it, maybe.  Healthier.  Fitter.  And... I don't know.  Maybe I'll still feel unattractive there.  Who knows.  Or maybe I won't.


Also, I had no idea that going up in increments of one pound hand weights could feel SO MUCH HEAVIER.

But, yeah.  Two pound weights are frigging heavy compared to one pound weights when you're doing what Jillian tells you to do.


Tuesday, 29 October 2013

Aw Nuts

I had this post all started in my head but just before I went to start typing it out, I thought I'd upload a photo and now I just finished uploading said photo and I've totally forgotten what I was going to say!

Aww man!

Maybe if I just sit here for a while it'll come back.

Ok, well now I kind of remember, but I don't feel like writing it anymore.  I guess this is why so many published authors force themselves to write for certain lengths of time every day, so that you don't distract yourself and lose the steam you had built up!

In other news, it's apparently ladybug time in my apartment again.   Rescued three already in the last week.  Go figure.  Would still like to know why.


Also... either I missed some of the web lines the car-spider made or... well... I'd rather not linger on "or".


Monday, 28 October 2013

A Medly

Another Foggy Day by foundimagination
Jay was here for a couple of days last week, and he stayed with me.

At the time, I would have told you that this exhausted me, because when you're used to sleeping alone, it's disruptive to have someone in bed with you again.

So I was physically tired. And still kind of am, seeing how sleep for me is now a super picky thing and a couple of nights of disrupted sleep mean a week of feeling like I'm trying to catch up.


Now that he's gone, I'm missing the physical presence of him being here.

Not particularly in bed (I mean, well, you know) because once I'm asleep I'm asleep, but I mean knowing that there would be another person coming home later.  Or someone to watch a show with that evening, or someone to have a conversation with, share my day with, have a laugh or ten with.

It's a reminder that living alone, while it has wonderful moments and benefits, it also has things that I miss.

I don't know what role Jay will be playing in my life a year from now... half a year from now... a decade from now, and I'm not sure I have an answer to who or what Jay is in my life right now.

It was interesting, in an unrelated kind of way, one night when Jay had told me he'd be back quite late due to a function he had to attend.

I woke up with a terrible headache in the middle of the night and noticed he wasn't yet home, even though it was later than he'd thought he'd be done.

I took an Advil for my head, and drank some water, but I also worried.

I noticed that I'd accidentally pulled the chain closed on the door and I worried that Jay had come home, not been able to come in because of the chain, and gotten mad and left.

I worried that he'd fallen for someone at the event and was staying out with her doing who knows what.

I worried that his phone had died.

I worried that he had gotten drunk and was passed out somewhere.

And at whatever o'clock in the morning that it was, all of these things seemed real and reasonable.

I texted him, just a "hey" and he got back to me right away.  "Things running late, am hoping to leave in the next half hour."

I couldn't sleep, the headache was not a good one, so I stayed up and read.

When he got home, I was relieved.

Now that he was back, all the worries I'd been convinced were real seemed silly.  Why would he have gotten mad about the door?  Jay doesn't really get mad, especially not at things like that.  He would have just knocked, or buzzed, or something.  So what if his phone had died.  And Jay's not a drinker, so the passing out drunk was a silly thought.  The meeting someone?  Well, I guess that's just something that's going to worry me until I find a new boyfriend... but why did I think it would happen that night, randomly?  I don't know.

I told him all the things I'd worried about.

He pointed out that none of them had happened.

I know that the middle of the night is not a good time for worries.  That everything seems darker and worse and like things are just going to go badly when it's the middle of the night.

When Jay was living and working on the other side of the world we had a lot of conversations that went into or started in the middle of my night.  And those conversations were not always happy, positive ones.

I'm lucky that I don't currently do a lot of thinking in the middle of the night, but I'll have to remember that it's not my best time.

And I'll have to remember that when I'm in those dark moments, whether it's literally in the dark of night, or just in a dark place that my brain comes up with things and thoughts that are silly.

And that there's no point in thinking them through.

That I just need to wait and breathe and find out what's happening, rather than inventing all the things that are maybe going wrong.

If I could learn that life lesson?

I think I'd be a lot happier.

Saturday, 26 October 2013

Twenty Random Questions I Found When I Googled "20 Random Questions" (And Their Answers)

1.  Do you have a middle name?
- I most certainly do.  Although my Dad does not.

2.  Have you ever fallen in front of a bunch of people you know?
- Not that I can remember.  This doesn't mean it hasn't happened, just that if I have, I don't remember.

3.  Do you like Harry Potter?
- The character?  Sure.  The books?  Yes.

4.  Do you still own a stuffed animal that you had when you were young?
-Absolutely.  We still snuggle most nights.

5.  Do you sing loudly in the shower?
- No.  I don't sing in the shower particularly.  I think a lot, but I don't sing.

6.  What were you doing at midnight last night?

7.  What's a word that you say a lot?
- OK.

8.  What is your wallpaper on your phone?
- A cool picture of rocks I took.  Big rocks.  Looking down on them.  Rocks from China Beach.  Very zen.

9.  Which Disney character do you like best?
- Um.  I'm blanking on Disney characters.  Let me google for a minute.  How about the Tramp.  (The dog)

10.  Can you roll your tongue?
- Yes.  And my Rs.

11.  Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it?
- Twirl a little, but not in a crazy way.  If I'm worried about spillage (red sauce) I'll cut it.

12.  Any tattoos or piercings?
- Yes, both.  Am considering another tattoo... not sure though.  It'd be always visible and I'm not sure I'm ready for that or want that.

13.  What's something you envy about the opposite sex?
- No periods.

14.  What kind of pet do you have?
- The kind that doesn't exist yet...well, I mean, dogs exist, but I don't have one as a pet.  Yet.

15.  Before you started this survey, what were you doing?
- Writing a post about something else.  And then goggling questions.  I don't know why I suddenly thought "hey, I feel like answering random questions!"

16.  Do you remember your dreams?
- Some of them vividly.  Some of them slip away as I wake up, even when I don't want them to.  Some of them, no.

17.  What was the last movie you saw?
- I really don't remember the last movie I saw in a theatre.  The last movie I saw (at home) was "World War Z"

18.  What is on the walls of the room you're in?
- Four photos I took that have been printed on canvas.  A clock, and three painting reproductions (prints).

19.  When did you last step outside and what were you doing?
- I went to get groceries a few hours ago (as of this writing)

20.  With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
- Two clocks ticking (at slightly different times that sometimes match up), some traffic in the distance outside.  My fingers tapping on the keys.

Friday, 25 October 2013

Brain. Power!

When It Burns by foundimagination
I'm still stumbling through this moment and figuring things out, but I thought I'd tell you this Burning Man moment that I keep meaning to share.

One of the first days, I think we were walking to get ice, when I was approached by a young fellow and his friends.

This young guy held out his hand, which had a small grid made of tied together glow sticks.

"Do you want to play Tic-Tac-Toe?"  He asked.

Well, yes, of course I did.

(This is the answer to most questions at Burning Man.  It's far more fun that way!)

What I learned was that to play the game, we just pointed to the square we wanted.

And then we had to remember!

And that was the hardest part.

I mean, there's a little bit of strategy to tic-tac-toe, sure, but can you imagine trying to figure out that strategy while remembering which squares you put your marks in and which squares the other guy put his in?

It took all of whatever brain power I had, but I won the game and hugs were exchanged and all was well with the world.

But seriously. 

Tic-tac-toe without a board is hard dude!

Thursday, 24 October 2013

Further Thoughts And Ramblings

I was out walking yesterday afternoon when my mind came back to the post I'd written and where all that was *really* coming from.

I always refer back to what a brilliant counsellor told me... that when you have a reaction that's THIS BIG to something that's actually this big, it's not about the thing, it's about something else.  Something older.  Something deep in there.

Because I don't think feeling out of place at someone else's work event should really produce the hurt I'm feeling.

So, what is it?

I found myself wondering today if some part of it has to do with not feeling inherently valuable.

Like, I feel like I was raised to believe that my value as a person comes from how I gave myself to or helped or served others.

That my value is based on how much I positively impact people's lives.  How much I put myself out for them.  How much better their lives are for me being in them.

There is no sense of just being valuable for who I am.  That's vain.  Self-centered. 

To think that it might have been enough for my friend to show me her workplace, to say a quick hello?  That's a narcissistic thought.  To think that my offers of help, although not needed may have been appreciated?  Can't be true.

These are the ideas I think are somehow related to why I felt so very out of place.

I had nothing to contribute.  I was in the way (or so I felt), and so I was worse than being annoying.  I was actively being a bad person.

I'm not saying this makes any sense or has any logic to it, it's jut the thoughts that came to me as I walked.

I think I believe that I am only a person of value to any other human being if I give up part of myself to and for them.

And I'm not sure what it means if I'm right.  And I'm not sure what it means if I'm wrong.

Wednesday, 23 October 2013

I Wanted To Hide

The Rain Was Heavy Today by foundimagination
You'll have to excuse me if I start to cry while I'm writing this.  It's been an exhausting week or two and I'm just done.  And emotional.  Pushed myself through some uncomfortable moments and just feel like crying.

The question I'm sitting here asking myself right now is if I've always felt this way.

See, when I'm in my, home, familar, comfortable places I know well... the gym, friends' houses, etc. I feel comfortable and confident.  Even if there are people I don't know or the situation's busy or stressful, I'm still confident.  I know my way around, I know where things are, I know what's expected of me, I know what to do or what not to do.

When I'm in my places, I'm solid.

When I'm not in my places, I'm not.

And when I'm surrounded by people who are comfortable and confident and doing their thing, I just feel so awkward.

Awkward and uncomfortable and out of place and, sometimes totally useless and in the way.

I don't know what to do with myself in these places and situations.  For example, my friend works for an organization that put on a really cool event the other day.  She asked me to come along and I was excited to see the event, but when I was there, behind the scenes, I felt so awkward.

Where should I stand?  Who should I not be in the way of?  Could I help?  But I don't know enough about anything that's happening to really be of any use.  But I'll ask anyway.  And then be told, no, we're fine, so then what?

And I don't work with these people and they all know each other and, not only that, they're all at work and I'm just... hanging out.  And so it's a combination of not wanting to interrupt, not wanting to annoy anyone, and not wanting to seem lazy.  Like, who's that stupid girl who's just standing here while we all haul our asses working?

I don't know.  Maybe this was just not the greatest situation for me to be in and I should just let it go, but right now I feel like crying.

The few things I tried to help with I kind of goofed up a little.  And then I failed to notice the miniature lighting they were stringing up and I stepped on it and broke some bulbs and then the whole string wouldn't work.

And my friend was too busy to chat or hang and I'd expected that, but, well, why did I go?  Or maybe, why did I stay?

I wanted to see her, and we did get a bit of time over a meal together, but still... I just felt so awkward.

Maybe I appeared so.  Maybe I didn't.  I'm not saying I awkwardly avoided eye contact and refused to speak to anyone, I didn't... I pushed myself out of my shyness and talked to a few people and smiled and introduced myself but It. Felt. Bad.

And it's these moments where I hate being stuck in my particular head with my particular thoughts and I just wish certain things weren't so hard for me.

Or something.

I hated feeling so out of place.  And maybe I felt unwanted somehow.  Certainly in the way.  Although no one told me I was, and when I told someone I felt in the way they said I absolutely wasn't!

I don't know.  Just... it was hard, is all, I guess.  And it's made me sad.  I wish every place felt like one of my places.

I've thought a bit more about this and have come back to add this... I think it's also, or maybe even more so that I felt I did not belong.  And that that's a bigger feeling and a bigger issue than just this one event.  I did not belong and I do not belong and I am not anyone's anyone and I am not important to anyone.  And it rolls right into the feeling I came away from Burning Man with of being not attractive, not interesting, not worth much.  And not loved.  Certainly not the way I love others.

And I know people disagree with those feelings, but they're what's stuck in me right now.  And, no, I'm not going to just let them stick there, I'm just saying, I'm hurting and it's not a nice way to feel.

Tuesday, 22 October 2013

Last Week's Exercise

My summary of last week, for posterity, or... ok, really just for me, because I forget things and I want to be able to be encouraged by my progress instead of forgetting it and feeling like things are stuck at a status quo:

My foot/toe was my big issue last week.  I had a really hard time even walking on it early in the week and it was even swollen.  Don't know what's going on, but it was really sore.

So I did what I could to rest it.  Which is hard, because I still have to, you know, walk around!  Also didn't want to start limping because that will just make something else hurt.

But, I took care of it, stuck to stationary biking for a few days and minimal walking.

It started to feel better, and I had a couple of REALLY exhausting and stressful days and so I did that workout again.  Hurt my foot again the first time I did it, so the second time I just avoided the jumping and the bending of the toe.

I did not bad with food and sugar.  Had leftover pie from Thanksgiving that I was going to take in to work to share, but ended up eating it all myself.  That was not so great, even though I told myself it was a locally made pie, and had lots of fruit.  But other than that, I was pretty good with sugar.

I'm happy to notice that the 30 day shred video is starting to feel easier.  Or, I guess I should say, I'm starting to feel stronger at it.  I haven't been using the small weights they recommend, and I wonder if I should try it with them and see how that goes.

Been having some issues with my wrist the last while, so I did adjusted pushups with fists.

Been having hand problems lately, but wouldn't you know it, I didn't put two and two together until a random chat with my Mom.

Um... fist pushups?  Yeah, that's why my hand's hurting!  D'uh!

So it's strapping of the wrist and no more fists for me. 

A lot of last week was dealing with the foot/toe injury and trying to heal it and rest it.  Biking was great for that.  I also learned that doing that fairly intense video program after my two crazy work days made me feel a lot better.

It actually took away the exhaustion, which would seem not to make sense, but does.  Must be the stress leaving the body and swapping out the cortisols for the good hormones.

So I think, in general, I'd say I feel like I'm getting stronger and fitter, even though I haven't seen any measurable change in how I look.  Maybe next week I'll re-measure and re-weigh and see.  I just know that that may end up disappointing me more than anything.

I'm going to keep working on drinking more water (it's hard some days!) and watching my refined sugar intake.  And I'll keep pushing through those moments where I crave something and just want to EAT ALL THE THINGS!

Here's hoping I don't re-re-injure my poor foot and toe.

Monday, 21 October 2013


Going by foundimagination
Man, I do not know how to say what I'm trying to say here.

You know how people will often tell you how awesome someone else is?

Like, when I had that dinner with friends the other week and felt so... hurt was compounded by the fact that when our first friend left, the other two friends turned to me and said "isn't she the most amazing person?"

Which, she is.  But, I'm not.

Because, no one has ever said "you're the most amazing person."

Ok, well, that's not true, I have friends who tell me that I'm an amazing friend.  I have a book full of lovely cards people have sent me telling me wonderful things.

But somehow when someone talks to me about the greatness of someone else, I somehow take it personally.  When it's not at all about me.

Is that narcissistic?

I know it's partly me having to learn to love, appreciate and value myself.  To believe it when friends say kind things about me, or when my family, or co-workers, or even clients tell me good things about me.  I know that's part of it.

But perhaps there is also part of me that wishes people would say these things to the individual in question too.  (Maybe they do, but I somehow doubt it.)

Shouldn't our friend know that we all think she's amazing?  Yes.

Even if she won't believe it when we say it, I know I wish the world was a bit more honest in giving compliments and sharing what amazes us about the people around us.

I think I'll see what I can do to be a bit more like this myself.  And to not take it personally if someone else is being praised.  And to actually listen, hear, and believe it when I am.

Easier said than done?

Saturday, 19 October 2013

See You Around

I was out for a walk the other weekend (before the poopy re-injuring of my foot) and I ran into the guy I had some dates with before Burning Man.

We chatted for a minute or two, hey how's things kind of chat and then we went our separate ways with a "well, take care" kind of thing.

I guess neither of us was particularly interested, or perhaps he did see me out with my friend and assume I was on a date.  Either way, other than randomly running into him, I haven't heard from him since he ran into me on my not a date.  I didn't have to have the awkward conversation, or tell him I don't date guys who smoke.

Cute guy at work the other day, he worked with us temporarily last year and was the strong silent (but hunky) type and then when he stopped in the other day we all giggled at his handsomeness and some of us got a little perky-eared when he mentioned that he hadn't, actually, gotten married this summer after all.

I was watching Parenthood the other day and an actor came on that totally reminds me of this cute guy, and I realized it was Pam's former fiance from The Office too.  Not normally my type, but cute is cute, eh?

Not that being newly single means he suddenly wants to date me or anything.  But it's nice to have something cute to look at and have silly girl talk about.

Friday, 18 October 2013

Hard Worker

Everywhere by foundimagination
Last month, or maybe a little more than that, I'm not sure, so let's just say "in early September" shall we?

In early September, I got into my car after work one day and noticed that, somehow, a spider had gotten inside my car.

I noticed this because the poor fellow had made spider webs everywhere.  Like, everywhere. 

And not just webs, but he'd strung spider... strings everywhere in his attempt to navigate the car's interior.

There were spider strings and webs everywhere.  I felt kind of bad knocking them down, because he must have worked on them all day.  The inside of my car was covered in webs and strings and spider attempts to catch food.  And since there was no sign of anything having been caught in these webs, this little spider guy must have been starving!

I found him (or her, I don't know, I didn't stop to ask) before I drove off and let him out into the world, but I keep finding spots that have spider strings that I missed.  The far corner of the back window.  Under my door handle.  And yesterday, across the skylight (moon roof?)

This was one industrious spider you guys, I just hope he's doing will out in the world of actual food catching-ness.

May we all be that ambitious!

Thursday, 17 October 2013

My Burning Man Aftermath (Otherwise Known as Part Two)

So coming back from Burning Man I was feeling more relaxed, but I was also feeling really unhappy about my appearance.

Like I said, seeing photos of myself didn't help, but I didn't delete them either.  The (carefully chosen) photos I sent people, I got feedback back from them that I looked great! so I figured maybe some day I'd be able to see what they saw, so no deleting, I told myself.

After a week or two of being back home I realized that my body wasn't fat.  I was average back home.  Maybe a little thinner than average.  Certainly in the places we ate in the States I felt thin again.  But at Burning Man?  My body is far above the average weight, or state of fitness or thinness or something.

I started to feel like back home I wasn't unattractive.  I was ok.  Maybe sometimes better than ok.  Some days I could see myself in the mirror and think, hey I look good!

But not naked.  Not in a bikini.

I look fine with clothes on.  Clothes can cover the pooch.  The back fat.  The lumpy thighs.  And so I'm disguised when I'm at home.  Most of the time.

I look better when I've just washed my hair.  Worse when it's been a day or two.  But my hair... it's... blah.

I've been growing it.  Do I keep growing it?  Will that make my chin look thinner?

I don't do anything with my hair.  I'm a lazy hair person, always have been, that won't change.  So it gets pushed behind my ears, off of my face.  Doesn't do much for me, really.


My clothes are... fine.

But I'm too concerned with being comfortable to wear that belt that would show off my waist, or to wear those shoes that would lengthen my legs (and make my toe hurt like a bad word.)

But maybe there were some clothes that weren't helping.  I stood in front of a mirror a few weekends ago and tried everything on.

Gave away the things that didn't fit anymore, or didn't make me look any better than frumpy.

I know in theory, whenever I put something on it should flatter me, but that's not my reality.  I've got some things that when I wear them, people like the garment, but there are only a few things that I wear where I feel like I'm attractive in them.  And they're not really wearable in my spy cave.

Makeup, fine.  I do my makeup, it looks good, it's not particularly fancy.

Blah, blah blah.  I look ok.  On a good day, when all the elements align, I feel like I look good.

But it's a fleeting feeling.

I had a striking thought the other day... It's not my fault that I'm not young.

Because it's not.  I can't help not being twenty anymore.  It's not my fault.

And yet I'm still sad that I'll never get to go to Burning Man as a twenty year old.  (Good lord I'm glad for that though, I probably would have drunken myself sick.  I just mean body-wise.)  And the sad part about it is that I didn't even like my body when I *was* twenty.

A woman at work the other day, as we were sharing about our body woes (she used to be 200 pounds, I'm so proud of her, even though I just met her last month!) told me a saying she'd heard.  "I wish I was as fat now as the first time I thought I was fat."

Well damn.  When I was sixteen, my family and I travelled to Hawaii for a holiday.  It was awesome, but I remember trying to hide my body.  Clearly, I was fat.  Or so I thought.  People were looking at me because I was fat.  My breasts were large, so they were probably looking at that, but my body?  When I see pictures now?  Was amazing.  How happy would I be now, to have that body?  And yet I hated it then.

How happy would I be at ninety, to have the body I have now?  And will I have hated it?

Sure, there's something to be said for loving yourself, for being kind to yourself.  For appreciating the beauty of your body as it is right now!

But that's not the same as looking at where I've taken by body to and knowing I could make it a little thinner... a little more toned.  I could see more definition.  I want to be able to look at myself in a bikini, or even naked, and say, yeah, I work hard to look this way and I feel good about how I look.

I'm never going to be taller than I am.

I'm never going to be a petite figure with little, perky breasts (unless I invest in surgery and alter what I was given, but I don't want to do that unless it's medically necessary, and I hope my health never makes it medically necessary.)

I'm never going to be stick thin.

But I've watched ladies at work give birth, and work hard and look great a year or three later.

I've seen me, before my car accident, with defined arms and a thin stomach.

I know that my metabolism has changed.  I know I'm working against age, and genetics and let's be honest, the fact that I often care more about the physical comforts of treats than I do about a future possible change in my figure.

Yes, I would like to lose some weight.  Not a ridiculous amount.  Just enough.

I would like to be more in control of my sugar intake.  I'm not sure it's realistic to say none, but less.  More controlled.  Less manic.

I would like to be strong again.  And fitter again.

I would like to not see and feel flabby, soft parts of me rolling over clothes and underclothes.

I would like to go to next Burning Man and be comfortable in what I'm wearing, or not wearing.  To feel attractive.  And to feel attractive in myself, for real, there and beyond.

I hate how I feel right now, and Burning Man was the spotlight on that.  I am unattractive and I can't keep feeling this way.

Burning Man made me feel really unattractive and I'm doing something about that.

Maybe what I'm doing won't make me feel any more attractive, but I can't see that it will make me feel any worse.

I don't see how I could feel any worse.

Wednesday, 16 October 2013

Where Burning Man Took Me (Part One)

Repent, It's Tutu Tuesday by foundimagination
I came back from Burning Man feeling completely unattractive.

Which was the opposite of what I'd expected.  I'd read and heard that people felt at their most attractive at Burning Man.  That, surrounded by the knowledge that it is ok to wear what you want, be who you want, and not be judged, people are sexier than ever, more confident than ever, and that it's that very self-confidence and personal expression that makes them their most attractive self.

I'd thought I'd come home feeling like I hadn't cared how I looked.  That it was ok to not care about what I wore, and that I would feel like it didn't matter.

I remember, before I left, talking to my co-worker who'd been and he asked me what costumes I was planning on taking.  I told him I'm not a costume person and that I really wasn't worried about it.  I was just planning on wearing normal clothes.  Or maybe a tutu on "Tutu Tuesday".

He mentioned that he thought I might feel a little left out, or maybe out of place if I didn't have a costume, but I told him I wasn't worried about it.  I had some rubber duckie silk pyjamas that I was planning on wearing to keep the sun off and that I was happy enough with that.

Because, really, I'm not a costume person.  Particularly.  I love to act a part, and if you hand me a costume for a costume party I'll totally wear it and ham it up, but I'm not someone who spends months putting together a kick-ass Halloween costume.  I'll usually throw on an orange shirt and some pumpkin socks and call it a day.... now gimme candy!

When I got to Burning Man, all my plans about what I'd wear sort of fell apart.  Those first few days the things I'd brought that I thought would work in the hot weather, I just sweated in.  And felt like I was going to die in.  At home, when it's hot, I wrap myself in a sarong and I'm good.  Naked, but covered.  I'd sewed velcro into a sarong so I could do the same at Burning Man and not have to worry about it coming undone.

The sarong was too hot.

Being naked, I still would have been too hot, but still.

I remember seeing my camp mates wearing shorts and bikinis and I thought, yes... bikini, that.  So I ended up putting on my bikini, and at that point I didn't give a (swear word) how I looked, because I was just focussing on surviving the heat.

Our second day, it was Tutu Tuesday (unofficially of course) so I threw a tutu on over my bikini when I went to meet my friend and then again, when we went to get ice.  (Oh right, and then I overheated myself and, yet again, didn't give two hoots what I was wearing because I just wanted to not be so hot.

I did manage to head out that night and I didn't wear anything more than my bikini and tutu.  And I was still too hot, but at least I felt like the tutu was in the spirit of things... If slightly itchy against my over-heated, red skin.

The next day, when I decided I had to get out and about no matter the heat, and I went to see if I could find Jay where he'd said he was volunteering, I threw my rubber duckie pyjama top on to keep the sun off.

And I felt stupid.

People loved the duckies.  "Duckies!"  "So cute"  "Rubber Duckie!"  But I felt frumpy.

Frumpy and unattractive and stupid.

But I was still struggling with heat, so I figured it was better to have some protection.  When I was out that night, I had the top on and it was kind of neat because it helped some people recognize me.  "Hey, Canada!" and I'd look and it would be the guy we'd met earlier, who only knew it was us because of the pyjamas.

But, feeling frumpy and unattractive when you're at Burning Man really sucks.  It sucks more than feeling this way at home because you're surrounded by young, fit, firm, toned, half-naked gorgeous women.

And you're surrounded by these completely attractive women and you see the men looking at them.  Appreciating them.  Liking how they look.

You don't see them liking how I looked.

Sure, I did have one guy approach me to talk to me and it was probably more about me making eye contact and smiling than it was about how I looked sitting in my tutu, bikini top and duckie pyjamas, but this isn't about what was actually happening, this is about how I felt.  How I perceived things.  And how I perceived things is that I was one of the least attractive women there.

I did not have interesting makeup.  Unless you could the two days that Mark's wife did my makeup and gave me sparkles and shine.  And whether it was me feeling more confident in those moments, or me looking more attractive or interesting in those moments, those are the times I saw guys looking my way, smiling.  Or a guy or two at least.  More accurately.

I did not have an interesting outfit.

Other than the (I'm sorry to put it this way, but this is how it felt) creepy older men who told me that my breasts had turned them on, no one noticed me.  I wasn't interesting to look at and I wasn't attractive enough to look at.

I knew I didn't look good, and I didn't like feeling that way.

Was it Wednesday, or Thursday that I set out on my own for the morning?  And I knew I wanted to do something about what I was wearing, or not wearing, so I went to one of the camps that were giving away clothes and costumes.  I found a dress that I liked, long, simple, black, and a shirt that I liked, white, cut off sleeves, cotton, and a bandana I could use to keep the dust out (my professional dust mask I'd bought was, ironically, too hot to wear in a dust storm.)

I put on the new clothes and I felt a little better.  Still hot, but that wasn't going to change.

The skirt, it turned out, was hard to ride in.  And the top was still a bit on the warm side during the day, but I felt like I was more comfortable with how I looked.

As the week went on I ended up with some random things wrapped around my wrist.  Wristbands, a necklace gift, and some string I'd rescued from the ground.  These things, too, made me feel like I was looking a bit more how I felt, somewhere inside.

There are a million different styles of dress to be seen at Burning Man, but in my mind I broke it down into a few categories.  The Mad Max leather and dust look, the Sparkles and Fur raver look, the Not Quite A Hippy flower child with a twist look, the I'm Wearing What Works for me and I'll Wear It At Home too look, the I'm Cute and so are my Boobs naked look, and the I'm a Sexy Woman without having to be a slut look.  Among others.

I'm at heart on the flower child side.  I'm, at heart, attracted to the Mad Max men.  I would love to be a Sexy Woman, but I'm not.

And that's what ended up hurting.

The morning of the last day, Jay and I went to find the gal he'd travelled with.

She was adorable.  This pert, perky little thing with the cutest breasts, bare and matching her personality.  A short little school girl's kilt and a workman's belt.  Short dark hair and pretty eyes.  Who wouldn't want to sleep with her?

We biked away and Jay asked me why I'd gone all "jealous and quiet."

I wasn't jealous at all.  And I told him so.

"I'm not jealous, I just feel so unattractive here, and meeting her just solidified all that for me.  I'm not jealous at all, I'm sad."

And I started to cry.

At Burning Man, I'm ugly.

My body is fat.

My legs are fat and short and stumpy.

My breasts are large, but floppy and they overwhelm my figure.

I have jowls under my neck, and my face is round.

I'm not 20.

I'm not toned.

I'm not perky, or petite, or adorably cute.

I have cellulite on my thighs.

My stomach isn't flat anymore.

When you take me out of clothes and put me in a bikini, it's not anything anyone would want to look at.

And, yes, it's been hard seeing the pictures taken of me there.

Even with clothes, at Burning Man, I'm not anything anyone would want to look at.

Jay was attractive.  Jay looked hot.  Sexy.  Had I not known him, I would still have thought so.

Jay was also the only man to show any interest in me in a physical way.  And Jay has always been good at complimenting me when I look good.  And Jay didn't compliment me at Burning Man.

Sure, I felt attractive with him.  Attractive to him, obviously, or we wouldn't have smooched, but I left Burning Man feeling really really unattractive, and it was a hard thing to face.

I still felt sexual... Jay was the reason for that.  But attractive?  Not at all.  The very opposite.  I felt horrible about how I look, and I still do.

Tuesday, 15 October 2013

A Summary

I'm still working on figuring out how to write about it, but I think I've probably mentioned it in passing here or there... I'm unhappy about how my body looks, and a couple of weeks ago, C-Dawg and I decided we'd support each other and encourage each other in making some positive changes.

Last week, I also started documenting what I was doing (mainly exercise wise) so that I could hopefully see the progress that I might have forgotten otherwise.

I realized that since I was writing it down anyway, I could probably just summarize things here.

Am I making sense?


C-Dawg and I managed to work out together one day a couple of weeks ago, and then last weekend I tried the easiest level of what's her name's 30 day shred.  I didn't manage to make it through that first time without taking breaks, and I felt pretty darn un-fit.  I also sweated a lot.  But it was pretty fast and I managed it.

I did the video workout four times total last week, and I did notice improvement.  By the fourth time, I didn't have to stop to rest during the cardio portions (jumping jacks, etc.) and I felt a little stronger.

No change to be seen physically... like weight wise or clothes-fitting wise and that can be a little discouraging.  It would be nice if there was an instant, overnight change that would encourage you to keep going.

I've felt stiff, and sore, but have been gentle enough with myself to avoid injury.  Threw in some other workouts, and a walk or stationary bike ride here or there, so I'm supposed to be happy with myself for the exercise I did last week.

Re-injured my toe though.

Not exercising.

Stepped backwards and accidentally stepped on a child's foot and jerked forward, and honestly?  It feels like I may have re-ripped something that was mid-healing.  I don't know.  But that walk I went on on Saturday, in the sun with my friend?  Yeah, I was limping.  And Sunday morning, it hurt to walk.  I'm hoping I can rest it back to health, because I don't have an appointment to see the foot guy again until next week.  May have to avoid long walks for a while... or something.

But anyway.  The other thing I noticed is how I have some really bad times of day for wanting to stuff my face with things, and how sugar is kind of like an addiction for me.  Seriously.  It's something I'm going to have to keep figuring out.

So.  I keep telling myself that it's baby steps.  That I can't expect too much, or perfection, just that I'm pointing in the direction I want to go and that I pat myself on the back for the successes and the good things I do, and just keep taking little steps in the right direction.

Baby steps.  A good week last week.

Baby steps again this week.  No comparison.  Just day by day.

(Oh, and I nearly forgot to mention... I guess it was Friday that I did the 30 day shred video, but also, on top of that did two sets of wall sits for 30 seconds each, plus some lunges and so this weekend there was a whole lot of whimpering when I sat down or stood up or had to use stairs.  Whimper.  But in a good way kind of, right?)

Monday, 14 October 2013


Changing by foundimagination
It's a long weekend here in Canadialand, which means I should be feeling very grateful for an extra (paid) day off.

"Should" being the operative term because although I'm writing this on a gorgeously sunny Saturday mid-morning (yes, I know it's posting on Monday, that's just how I roll) looking out the window as little yellow leaves are drifting down like snow from the big tree across the street, I'm not feeling relaxed.

I'm feeling anxious.

I didn't have plans for the long weekend.  Thanksgiving weekend, in case you're wondering.  My folks, who are still dealing with my Dad's latest illness (shingles... can't they get a break?) said that maybe on Sunday we could have a quiet meal, order in some takeout and that would be our Thanksgiving dinner.  As Scottish immigrants, Thanksgiving has never been a big deal for them, and as someone who doesn't particularly like turkey (but doesn't mind gravy or mashed potatoes) Thanksgiving has never been a particularly important holiday for me either.

But I got an invitation to go over to a friend's house for a big dinner Saturday night.  It's my friend who left spy work to go to another spy cave and I miss her and feel like I haven't seen her family in ages, but I don't know if I feel social enough to be there with her and them and the other family and friends that are going over.  But I don't want to say no.

And then I got another invitation for dinner, this one from my brother, and also a birthday dinner, and so here I sit on a gorgeous Saturday day feeling like I don't know who to say no to without feeling guilty.

I think some people go through life and don't feel these awkward guilt-filled moments of insecurity and doubt.  For me, especially when I'm a little bit on the low side, and feeling overwhelmed by blah and tired by work, it's a fight to be social at all.  I do it because I figure I'll feel better if I do, and worse if I don't.

But I get frustrated by how I feel... uncertain, guilty, bad, when all I need to do is... I don't know.  Something.

But anyway.  I guess I'll figure it out.

And I suppose it means I don't have to make dinner, one way or the other.

Guess it's time to take the laundry out of the dryer, maybe go get some groceries, and see what's for lunch before meeting a friend for a walk in the sun.

I wish I had a whole week off, really, to just sit and chill and whatever.

But I'll be thankful for what I do have.  Friends, family, work, health, a peaceful life, and a day off today.

Updated late Saturday evening to add:  So, here's what I ended up doing.  I told my friend I was going to be going to my brother's for his birthday dinner.  And then I went for a walk.  Realized mid-walk, that I could probably head to her house for an hour or two and then go to my brother's, so that's what I did.  Managed to get in a good catch up chat with my friend before the rest of her guests came over, and then had a great dinner and evening with my brother.

I'm not saying the anxiety was... helpful, I'm just saying it's not real for me to say it wasn't there.  It was, I worked through it, and in working through it (rather than ignoring it and telling both of them I wasn't leaving the house) I managed to find something that worked and I'm happy I got to see them both and that it wasn't too tiring.  And I got cupcakes to top it all off!

And a walk in the sun.

Saturday, 12 October 2013


I don't know if it's just my mind playing tricks on me, but I feel like I've read the book I'm reading right now already.

And I'm 99.9% sure I haven't.

It doesn't help that the book I started reading before this book I *had* already read and it wasn't until 100 pages in that I was sure enough to stop.

But this book?  Feels very familiar.

Have I read something with a similar premise maybe?  Is that what's going on?

But anyway, it's an odd feeling.

Not that I know what's going to happen necessarily, just that I feel like the story is not new to me.

Updated to add:  Seriously.  I KNOW I've already read the part I just read last night.  Maybe in a preview or something but still... I've read it already.  What is happening?

Friday, 11 October 2013

Kind Of Gross, Feel Free To Skip!

Ready To Go by foundimagination
I wrote myself a note the first or second day I was at Burning Man.  It was this:

Things you get immune to at Burning Man
- naked boobies
- other people's poop

The second one usually grosses people out, but seriously, it's really not that big of a deal.

There are portapotties.  Probably twenty (?) in a row, scattered throughout the city.  And they're cleaned a few times a day. (I think you probably should pay those guys a lot of lot of money.)

But when you go to use them, they don't... or, I should say, the ones near us didn't stink.  They weren't necessarily pleasant, (although there was one that had a special something or other in it that made it smell great, and I did hear of some that played music or had other awesome things added on to make the experience nicer) but quite honestly, the nastiest bathrooms I encountered on the trip were the ones in the parks and forests we stopped in while on the road.  Those smelled like porta potties.

So when you went in to the portapotties, if you glanced down, and I must say, now that I'm writing it, I'm not sure why I do glance down? Anyway, if you glanced down, you'd see poop.  And it's just kind of not a big deal after the first time of going "huh.. that's someone else's poop!"

Maybe it's because you know you're going to be dealing with it for the next week, and it's just always there, but it's really just kind of... shrug.

As for the boobies, I suppose there were people who did not ever become immune to naked boobies, but I sure did.  It was like, oh, yeah, there go some more.  It just kind of becomes another shrug moment.  Oh, she's got no top on. Shrug.

I guess it's also true that you become immune to the dust, but that's not entirely true.  You certainly become immune to it being everywhere.  But my skin wasn't immune to it, finger and toe skin anyway.

I also didn't particularly notice the noise.  I mean I did, but it didn't bother me as much as it would if I were at home and my neighbour wouldn't stop blasting techno music all the damn time.  That would drive me bonkers.

Or if someone drove around my neighbourhood with their car stereo cranking out random songs?  I would be SO annoyed?  But at Burning Man?  It's like... oh... loud art car.  Shrug.

Or sometimes it's, sweet!  Loud art car!  Or... OOOOH art car with blinky lights!  And fire!  MAKE MORE FIRE! Ooooooh!

But, yeah.  I certainly became pretty quickly immune to naked boobies and other people's poop.

Don't think that would happen at home either.

Thursday, 10 October 2013

Effing Sleep!

I half wrote this post last night before I went to sleep, and I think my sleep punished me because I proceeded to have a horrible nightmare where I had to find out my brother had died in a car crash that was the fault of his friend Robert from So You Think You Can Dance (what?) and we didn't know that until Robert announced it at the funeral and I think that was when I told myself I had to wake up because the dream was so so upsetting.  Bad dream, bad!


I'm grumbling about sleep because I had a nap this weekend.  Just an hour's cat nap in the sun on a relaxing sunny Sunday.

And then I couldn't fall asleep Sunday night.  ARGH!

It probably wasn't, but it felt like three in the morning when I finally slept.

And then even Monday night it was still kind of... not great falling asleep and I feel like this is this unfair portion of aging... that the ability to sleep randomly has been taken away.

When I was a teenager, I used to be able to sleep forever!  I'd sleep in til 11 when I could, easily.  Some weekends, I'd sleep in til 1.  Seriously.  And still sleep that night.  No problemo.

Now, I have to keep to a pretty tight sleep schedule or else it all gets thrown off.  That means that even when I want to sleep in, I can't sleep much more than an hour later than I would on a work day.

Dramatic sigh.

I'm a sleep needer too.  I know people who can get by just fine on a couple of hours.  Or people who get up SUPER early and head to bed around the same time I do. 

People who have kids tell me that there is no more sleeping in anymore.  Well, I don't have kids and there still is no more sleeping in. 

I've lost my "sleep til ten or eleven" ability.  Now if I sleep til nine on a weekend I'm kind of hooped.  Throw a nap in there?  Done for half a week.

Effing sleep, why you gotta be so picky?

Now I'm going to go pout.  And then I'll probably apologize to sleep so it doesn't kill off another family member in a nasty awful horrible dream again tonight.

Wednesday, 9 October 2013


Regional Burn (Reno) by foundimagination
I remember when I got back from Burning Man, and the guy I'd gone on those dates with texted me and asked if I was a changed woman.

I wasn't sure if he was joking around or if it was a serious question, but I took at face value and told him that it was impossible to go and not come back somewhat changed.

That first week back I'm not sure I could have told you quite what the change was, or how I'd changed, but I just knew, if nothing else, I'd done it, and that had shown me something.

Something fairly big, actually.

In some ways, Burning Man did what I would never have expected.  It made me worry less.

Sure, I still worry.  As you've seen here, I still worry needlessly.  But I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me.  Things matter less.  Not in a "I'm going to do a slack job" kind of way, but in a "it's going to be ok" kind of way.

Maybe "worry less" isn't the right way to put it.  Maybe it's more that I stress less.  I'm less anxious.  About big things.  I don't know.  I can't put it into words, which is frustrating, but I know I'll be talking about Burning Man and everything for a long time now so maybe the words will come.  Maybe I'll be able to explain how I feel lighter somehow when it comes to anxiety.  And that that's a very nice feeling.

But Burning Man also put me into a place of change that hasn't been as positive.  And has also perhaps accelerated some positive change in my life, leading to this last week of misery that lead to some positive forward motion.

Things that effected me (I never remember which a/effected to use...urgh.  I feel like it should be the other one?) at Burning Man in an unexpected, negative way are still with me now, and how I feel about how I look is a big one of those.

I'm clearly feeling stuck writing about all this right now, so I feel like I shouldn't force it.  That I should just let those words, that story come as they may.

But for now, I just wanted to say that going to Burning Man this summer was the right thing for me to do in so many ways.  And I know that change is not always easy, and doesn't always feel good, but everything happens for a reason, and that's what I'm trying to figure out.

Burning Man was a stone thrown into the metaphorical lake of my life, and the ripples are just now starting to spread out.  Beautiful, but disturbing things as they go.

Tuesday, 8 October 2013

What Helped

What helped me feel better this weekend: 

(Because really.  I went from feeling -1000 to feeling good.)

1.  Not working.  (Sorry, but it's true.  Weekends involve very much not work, and that helps my mood.)

2.  Talking to my friend who lives in this building and is generally the most supportive person ever.

3.  Coming up with a plan with her where we will both send each other a theme/topic/word a day and she will do something musical with what I send her, and I will draw what she sends me.  And I will not judge my drawing, I will just draw it and be happy that I drew.

4.  Coming up with another plan with her where we are possibly going to make things to sell and then use that money to buy other things we want but feel like we can't afford.  (Or really can't afford.  Cuz, you know, groceries and stuff.)  Like new lenses, or in her case, guitars.

5.  The weather.  It was sunny.  And nice.  And that was helpful.

6.  Committing to eating better (less sugar/chocolate/salt), and upping my exercise.  And then actually managing to do better this week at both.  "Baby steps" is the motto here.

7.  The more exercise endorphins.  Even when short lived, they're still a nice mood booster.

8.  Talking about it.  Really.  I sometimes forget how much better I feel just saying to a few good friends "I feel really really really sucky right now."  Note.. I didn't say I told everyone.  I've learned, unfortunately the hard way, that there are some people in my life who will not make me feel any better when I tell them I'm in a low spot.

9.  Making choices to do things that are going to make me happier.

10.  Keeping on keeping on.  Knowing it would get better.  Even when it didn't feel like it would.

Monday, 7 October 2013

So Low

It Was Super Foggy This Morning by foundimagination
I wrote Saturday's post about feeling blue the weekend before.  Which means I had a rough week two weeks ago.

And I mention this because I had a really rough week last week too.  Worse maybe.

I had dinner with some great co-worker friends of mine on Thursday and one of them mentioned that their family (husband and daughter) was thinking of buying a small farm.  And the other friends said that they'd been thinking about it too.  So then the three of them started talking about perhaps buying into a farm together and what all they would do.

And I sat there and listened, trying to smile, but I wasn't part of the conversation.

I don't have a husband.  Which means I don't have a second income to help put towards a mortgage.  Which means I wouldn't be a financial help in this farm situation.  Or even in my own farm were that something I wanted.

And not just the financial aspect, but I don't have that life partner with whom I've sat and had these conversations.  Like they all had. 

And on top of that, I have nothing to offer to this... imagined farm situation.  I'm not an accountant like my friend's wife, so I can't help with the money.  I'm not an "ideas" person so I can't be the brainchild.  I'm not... anything.  And it hit me really hard.

I was already feeling low.  Feeling blue about myself physically.  A post I haven't tackled yet.  Feeling blue about everything.  And this just made it worse.

I didn't know what to do when I got home.  Who to talk to, who to call.

I texted a couple of friends, told them how I was feeling.  They were supportive, of course, but I didn't believe them.  Didn't buy what they were selling.

I just felt... like my life isn't anything and I hate it.

Hate where I am and.... everything.

In a place I don't know how to get out of.  And it was a second low week and that was not a great time to come across all those feelings.

I was really really low last week. 

And I wasn't sure what to do.

But I did something.  And I'll talk about that soon.  But I'm feeling better.  Hopeful.  And that's good.

I didn't write anything while I was feeling at my worst, and maybe I should have, just to remember that there's always an up, even when you're at the bottom of it all.

I reached out.  And I'm glad I did.  And I really really hope that this week is better.

Saturday, 5 October 2013


I think I've been fighting the Autumn Blues this week.

The days still aren't middle-of-the-winter short, but it's dark later in the mornings and earlier at night and the weather isn't the delightful sunny sunshine anymore and it's all just work and no Burning Man and blah.

Just... blah.

I'm also really struggling with liking my body right now, which helps exactly nothing at all, but also makes me want to eat less well, which then means I feel worse which then sets off the spiral all over and, yeah.  I'm feeling grumpy and unattractive and tired.

Maybe I should bring out my SAD light.  I haven't used it in years, but maybe it couldn't hurt?

And I know I should get back to my better eating habits, at least with the amount of protein I should be taking in.

But, sigh.  Everything seems to take more effort than I have energy to put out right now.

This too shall pass though.

This I know.

Friday, 4 October 2013

What's The Deal With That?

Parted by foundimagination
Ages ago, I followed a link on a work related site, that took me to another link, etc etc and I eventually ended up on an Australian health website called (I believe) Anxiety Online.

Long (boring) story short, I started a twelve week online course dealing with GAD.  Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

Next to PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) it was my highest rating in the quiz I took and I figured, why not, I'm a worrier, this can't hurt.

And, yeah, totally, I fit the bill.  Someone who worries excessively.  And seems to think that the worry is helpful, and productive.  Hi, nice to meet you, me!

But the odd thing is.  I'd sign on, read through a chapter or module or whatever, and would sort of resent it.

And I'd avoid going back to it. 

Which struck me as odd.  Still strikes me as odd.

Here was this thing, set out to specifically help me with the thing that I dislike so much about how I think and I'm avoiding it?  For weeks on end?

What's the deal with that?

Someone with a Psych degree could probably tell me.  It probably means something significant.

I'm just not sure what.

Thursday, 3 October 2013

I Really Don't Know

I've been writing a nightly journal for nearly five years now.

In my mind, it's poetry, poems, but it's also just to keep myself writing and to get something out about the day.

I write these sort of poems every night before bed, before I pick up whatever book I'm reading, and I write them in a moleskine diary type book.  Blank, daily pages.  With lines.  And my ink pen.

But I don't know why, quite, anymore.

Not that I don't enjoy the writing and the ritual of it, and I'll sometimes flip back to earlier in the year to see how I felt about something (like, Jay, for example) but now I have three or four of these books just sitting in storage and I don't know what to do with them.

I've never re-read any of the old things I've written and I don't know that I want to, particularly.

Should I go through and look and see if there are any actual poems in there?  Or things worthy of saying in a different format?  Or things worth remembering?

Or should I burn/shred/destroy the old journal/diaries... or what?

I really don't know what to do, if anything, but I'm not sure of the point of keeping them.

And I guess the point of continuing to write every night is just to be writing.  Every day.  Or night.

Or something.

Wednesday, 2 October 2013


Happy Chinese New Year! by foundimagination
The girl (I'm assuming, for no particular reason) above me has an iPhone.

I know she has an iPhone because her text tones are the exact same as mine. 

My phone is always on silent (almost always, to be accurate but still) and when people text it goes "buzz, buzz."

And when someone texts the girl upstairs, her phone also goes "buzz, buzz."

Which means sometimes I'll hear her phone alert and I'll check mine for texts.  I don't know if she has hers on a table or on the floor or something else that vibrations travel through but her texts sound just like mine when I have my phone on the couch beside me:  slightly muffled.

I've even been using my phone, on a game or something, clearly seeing that no text has come through but hearing the "buzz, buzz" will make me check.

Like, hello Pavlov, may I have my dinner now? 


Tuesday, 1 October 2013


It's been nearly a month since I got back from Burning Man, and although I'm back in the swing of work and whatnot, I feel like I'm still recovering somewhat.  A little.

Like, a couple of my toes are peeling.

This could be leftover from the playa dust and whatnot, or it could just be random... I don't know... toe skin issues that are completely unrelated?  But seeing as I've never had toe peeling issues before I'm guessing it's from Burning Man.

And I'm not entirely sure about what to do about it.

I also find myself still thinking about it.

Burning Man, that is, not the toes.

Like, wishing I could go back for the weekend, or wondering if I'll be able to go next year, or if I'll have people to go with next year more accurately.

Looking at pictures and posts and wishing I'd had more time.  Trying to figure out what I would change... no, will change next time I go.

I was chatting with Jay a couple of weeks ago when he quietly asked me if I missed it.  If I missed Burning Man.

I do.

It was a long time before this Summer that I last went on a significant holiday so that may be part of the missing.  But it's also that it's so... entertaining.  Like, you can't be bored.

Or maybe you can be bored, but you'd have to be working pretty hard at isolating yourself from... everything.

People say that nothing compares to your first time at Burning Man.  That you will never be as overwhelmed, as changed, as moved as you were your first time.  I'm not sure that applies to me, quite honestly.

I feel like I was just there to observe.  That my focus was on surviving and figuring it all out.  And that I will have a different experience the next time I go, and that I will engage in a different way.

Or maybe not.  Maybe I'll always feel just a little bit apart, a little bit insulated and not quite fitting in.

And there's also the concern that next time won't be as good.  That maybe I would be unwell next time, or the weather wouldn't be so gentle or I would have a hard time in some other way or hate my camp-mates or... something.  I know that I can't expect every Burning Man to be as great as this one was.

Unless maybe I can?

I don't know.

It was great to not go in to this Burning Man with any expectations, and now that I had a great time, I don't want to go into my next burn with having expectations of the same things happening, the same good time occurring.

But, really.  Tickets don't even go on sale for months and months.  I just have to live here and now until it's closer to the time to make decisions about next year.

I have to go back to breathing.

And just... being.

Because there really is only today, right?
Please don't steal stuff from here, it's not nice. But leave a comment, why don't cha? And drink more water. It's good for you.

P.S. If you think you know me? You probably don't. If you're sure you know me? Pretend you don't. I'll never admit I know what you're talking about anyway.

P.P.S. All this stuff is copyright from then til now (Like, 2006-2018 and then some.) Kay? Kay.