Friday, 29 July 2016



So... there was a thing that happened yesterday that I.... well, I'll just... tell you...

Jason and I were out shooting after work and we stopped near the Galloping Goose trail.  (A trail that runs up and through a portion of town here for bikers and walkers and stuff)  It has been super hot lately, and a young man (not twenty I don't think, so somewhere in those teenager years but not all that young?) came out of the trail.  He came over to where we were parked and asked if we had any water.  I did, and figured because it was SO super hot, and well, I'm in Burning Man mode of share and help people, I said I did, yes!

I figured the poor guy had been out for a walk and overheated and hadn't brought water, so I brought out my Nalgene (see photo... although that one's no longer with me, but my new one's the same colour!) and handed it over.

He took it... and started to walk away.

I glanced over at Jason, unsure what to do when the kid turned around and said, oh, did you want the water bottle back?

Uh... yeah?

So I walked towards him, still just expecting him to take a sip and hand it back and he just kept walking... so... I followed.

He said he was just "camped over there" and I said oh... ok... and kept walking, not sure at all what the heck was happening.

I don't even remember what I said, but I must have asked him why he needed the water (since he clearly wasn't drinking it... was he taking it to a sick friend?  an overheated pet?)

"I need it for my bong."




I was... somewhere between amused and flabbergasted.  "I, uh, thought you were just thirsty or something?"

And then I kept following him because what else was I going to do at this point?

He got to his little spot and I just kind of stood back as he unwrapped a giant bong and proceeded to fill it with my water.

He politely asked if I wanted a toke but I said I was fine, but thanks for asking!  (Because I guess when things are awkward I revert to ultra politeness?)

He filled it and checked it and filled it some more and then thanked me and handed back my water bottle.

I wished him a great rest of his afternoon and headed back to Jason and the car.

"So," said Jason.  "Had he started a fire or something?"

"Uh... no.  He needed bong water."

I still can't wrap my head around a few things here, you guys!

First... who travels (by scooter, I should mention!!!! No, not the vehicle kind, the kid like skateboard kind!) with a giant glass bong.  And who does that and forgets water?

I'm no expert in these things, but .... shouldn't he have remembered his own?

Jason thought it was mildly amusing.  I thought it was utterly bizarre but am now finding it rather funny.

I mean, not to mention the balls it takes to walk up to strangers and ask them for water and then... what, wander away with the water they gave you?

I have to say, I'm a little confused.  But in an amused by it all kind of way.

So there you go.  That's how I spent a small part of my Thursday.

Random, eh?

Wednesday, 27 July 2016


Back from the show and trying to compose my thoughts enough to write about it.

Happy.... whatever day you read this on.

Tuesday, 26 July 2016


As you read this, I'm actually either on my way, or already in Vancouver for the Tragically Hip show.

Which made me think I should catch you up on some interesting (to me, anyway!) music stuff in my life.

I can't remember why, exactly... probably something to do with wanting to have good playlists for my drive this summer, I started trying to reorganize my iTunes library.

Oh, dude.

First, I wanted to make sure everything was labelled and starred (or whatever you call it) and then I realized that some songs that I used to really like (four stars!) I didn't like as much any more (ugh, two stars now) and that got me thinking that I should maybe go through my entire library and re-rate everything.  (I know, right?)

I also realized that there were songs that were showing up on my shuffle list that I was NOT interested in hearing.  (Adele being the most common example... sorry Adele)

So I started going through my library song by song... deleting some (actually pulling them off into storage) and re-rating others.

It's been interesting to see how much my taste has changed and how some songs just stay solid (Hello Zep, Doors, Beatles, Floyd.)

It's also made me buggy.  I like to power through, which means I don't have the songs on in the background, I sit and actively listen and delete or re-rate, or re-sort or what have you.

I've so far made it to H.  Ugh.  I can't seem to get up the gumption to go back and finish but I'd like to.  I believe in me!  But ugh.

Something close to 200 songs have bitten the dust, which is fascinating to me, and hopefully clearing some storage space in my poor hurting computer (although I doubt it and that wasn't my intention) and meaning I'm not fast forwarding through songs I don't want to hear.  Only the good ones, please!

Monday, 25 July 2016

So, Reiki...

Reiki actually came into my life several years ago (maybe even ten or more?) where my Mom (much to most of our surprise I think) got her Reiki certification from the nuns (you read that right) here in Victoria (go figure, who knew, right?)

I'm not sure I had heard about it particularly before then and she offered to give me a treatment and I said sure.  I closed my eyes and lay on the couch and Mom did something she described as having something to do with my aura (I think?) (which was very surprising as she doesn't tend to believe in much that isn't science-y, but hey, nuns) and after she was done I felt calmer and more relaxed but we didn't ever really talk about it again I don't think.

A few years ago (three maybe?) I had the wonderful opportunity to be part of a First Nations smudging ceremony, and at the end of it, I asked if the elder would mind smudging me privately (I felt very calmed by the ceremony and meditation we did) and one of the things she said was that she felt that I was meant to "heal with my hands."

I talked to Jason about this, not being clear what that might mean... did she mean massage?  Paint?  Writing?  Using my hands to heal... in... what way?

Jason sighed (we do this a lot in being patient with each other) and said I was the only person he knew who would take what he saw as very clear guidance and get confused by it.  "Reiki" he said.  Nah, I said, I don't think so... that's not a thing I know anything about.

So from there, I'm not sure how it came back into my life.  I've never gone for a reiki treatment, nor do I really know anyone who does.  But at some point, perhaps as I turned more towards the natural and the spiritual, meditative type of things, the idea of learning it started to be something I considered.

So I did a little bit of research about it.  Google type research.  And it seemed to be a cool kind of thing.  And by my reading, even if it wasn't "real", it certainly wasn't hurting anyone or anything.  Kind of a win win, really.  So I bought a book, thinking that I could avoid having to pay the nuns to train me, but all the research I did, even the book, said that you have to be initiated into reiki by a reiki master.


I looked into the nuns, but the earliest they could fit me in was Fall.  (Yeah, it's that busy/popular of a thing I guess, who knew?)  I talked to a friend of mine I thought might know about this kind of thing and she pointed me in the direction of a practitioner here in town that she goes to from time to time and that she actually got her reiki training from.  "You did?" I gasped... (via text message so she probably didn't know I gasped... but that's what emoticons are for!) Awesome.  I now had one other person (besides Jason, who had never before talked to me about reiki but who has apparently used it in the past and loved it) who wouldn't make fun of me if I wanted to talk about it, yay!

I looked up this person and it turned out she was holding a Level One training in just a couple of weeks.  Well, who was I to give that up, right?

So I signed up, and in doing that much, was proud of myself.  I'd gone to that workshop by myself a few weeks before and here I was, planning on going to a weekend workshop all by myself.  Who was this masked woman?  Awesome.

I was nervous, yes, but I went, and I found the place and the people seemed nice and, well, before you knew it, I had been initiated into Reiki Level One.  (I'm maybe not using the correct terminology but basically the reiki has to be passed down from originator to apprentice who then becomes a Master and passes it on and so on... it's pretty cool, actually)

Now, I feel like I was the only person there who had never actually received reiki as a treatment before, so when we went around introducing ourselves I was kind of like... uh... I'm not really sure why I'm here?

We learned the history of reiki and the basics of self treatment (hand positions) as that's what level one is meant to be for... treating yourself.

We were told the first night to go home and give ourselves a treatment and I very dutifully went home and... had no idea what I was supposed to do!

Once you've been "given" reiki through the learning process, you just have it.  It's not something you turn on or off, it's just there, in you... you're connected to ... it.  But I didn't really know what that meant and so when I put my hands on my forehead for my first treatment I didn't really know what I was supposed to do.  Did I somehow have to... start it?  Should I feel something?  Did I have to... I don't know, will it to happen?

We'd talked, before we went home, about how we might not feel anything, or that we might feel heat from our hands, or maybe even cold, or... whatever.  But I didn't feel anything.

It was still nice, though.  I don't see how holding yourself (kind of) can't be nice.  It's good, if nothing else, to sit and be quiet for a time.

Also, those of you who were paying attention may have noticed that when my Mom treated me, she didn't touch me... this is not the original form of reiki... the originator had read in different religious texts about "hands on healing" and wanted to discover what all it might be... and long story very short.. found reiki.  I'll throw a few google definitions at you here:

"Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by "laying on hands" and is based on the idea that an unseen "life force energy" flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one's "life force energy" is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy."

a healing technique based on the principle that the therapist can channel energy into the patient by means of touch, to activate the natural healing processes of the patient's body and restore physical and emotional well-being."

and here, one from "quackscience" just to be balanced:
 "Reiki is one of several nonsensical methods commonly referred to as "energy healing." These methods are based on the idea that the body is surrounded or permeated by an energy field that is not measurable by ordinary scientific instrumentation. The alleged force, said to support life, is known as ki in Japan, as chi or qi in China, and as prana in India. Reiki practitioners claim to facilitate healing by strengthening or "balancing" it"

And so there's the thing.  It may not be "real".  I don't care.  And the stories of people it has helped... they don't care either.  I'm not here to argue that.

Even if it's nothing more than me taking half an hour or so a day (because I have) to touch myself and think that I'm making myself feel better, maybe that's enough to make myself feel better, and what's wrong with that?

Here's my understanding of it.  Everything has/is made of energy.  You can feel energy in a number of ways.  Be it the energy of the sun... your own energy levels when you don't eat enough or have had too much caffeine.  The energy of a room when you walk into it and it feels... "weird", the energy you get off of that person on the bus who makes you feel uncomfortable, or the energy you feel when you walk into a place that just feels really special.  There is energy... it's just... not always easy to talk about and people are very quick to call you sketchy or flaky or whatever when you talk about it.  I don't know.  I don't have the evidence or knowledge to debate.  Nor do I want to.  I leave that to others.

So applying this to someone else... say Jason, who was the first person I convinced (begged) to let me practice on him... seriously, all you have to do is lie there for half and hour... you can even sleep, I don't care... again, if nothing else, it is encouraging gentle, kind (dare I say loving?) human contact.  We are meant to touch.  We touch so little in today's world.  Laying my hands on someone, even if all it does is connect us for a short time, there is evidence and proof out there that it is making us both feel better.  Babies will die if they are not held.  Humans won't thrive without touch.  We are pack animals.  So if nothing else, reiki is human connection.

And if it's more than that?  Awesome.  As I say to people when they ask... well, it can't hurt you.

I've noticed that when I place my hands on myself for my self treatment, that I feel things.  Nothing major, but certainly at times I feel heat.  And here's what I wish.  I wish that before I'd been to the workshop, that I'd tried putting my hands on myself for five minutes to feel what that feels like before.  Because I have such a scientific mind and I so want proof and I so talk myself out of believing anything that can't be... proven.  So when I have my hands, say, on my forehead and they feel hot, I just think... yeah, well, it'd be hot to have my hands on there anyway... it can't be "reiki" doing that, it's probably just hot to have my hands on my skin and I've just not done it before.  *shrug*

It may all be in the mind.  I don't really think it is, but I'm writing publicly so I'm hedging my bets and not putting myself out for too much mockery just yet...

I asked my Mom if I could treat her sore back and she said, no, I don't believe in all that, it's nonsense.  But then she said sure, and I placed my hands on her injured back and she said... oh... huh... that... that feels funny... odd.... very odd.  So... I dunno.  It's not not real...

I like the idea of helping people, I really do.  I like the idea of helping people heal, or feel better.  Reiki seems to sit well with me.  I met a friend of Jason's a few weeks ago who is undergoing treatment for cancer.  I felt shy, but I asked her if she would like me to give her some reiki.

She said sure... that she didn't really know what it was but her friend did it, so I laid my hands gently on her neck and she said it felt nice (because human contact does!) and then she said, after a while, that she hadn't felt that much relief in her neck in ages.  She said she was able to move it more than she had in weeks.  *shrug*

So even if that was all in her mind, I helped her feel better.  And that, I think, is pretty darn amazing.

So, yeah.  I have my reiki level one.  Some people that I have told have said oh yay!  Some people it's been crickets.  My family teased me pretty much how I expected "oooh, woooo, do you need a crystal too for your voodoo hoodoo?" (sigh) but also asked general, polite questions about it (I really should read more so I can give better answers... universal life force... healing... you know...)  It's something I'll keep in my life and keep offering to people I think will be accepting and not... awkward about it.

I like it.  (AW CRAP, MOSQUITO AS I WRITE THIS, ARGH!)  I find it funny that I've never actually had a treatment myself and that I'm not really sure why I did it.  I just wanted to, and so I did.

So there you go.  (Now I have to go mosquito hunting... wish me luck.  No reiki for him/her!)

Friday, 22 July 2016

I Don't Know How To Do This

The Tragically Hip have their Victoria show tonight... the first show in their last tour.

I don't have tickets to this one, but I do have tickets to their show in Vancouver next week and I don't know how I'm going to handle the show.

I don't think I'm going to be able to stay tear free knowing I'm looking at a group of friends who have celebrated life together and shared music and performance together and fueled so much love and joy and pride.... knowing this is their last run at it.

I don't know how to watch, knowing it's a goodbye.

I'm hopeful that I will be able to just be in the music and in the show, but right now I can't even listen to a song of theirs without crying.  So... I don't know how to do this... and part of me isn't sure I want to.

My heart hurts so much and I don't want to say goodbye.

This post doesn't even cover it, I know it doesn't.  I was bawling as I was writing it.  I wish the Hip well... I wish the fans well.  I send love to everyone and I wish things were different, but perhaps, some day, I'll be able to remember fondly how much I love all that they are and all that Gord Downie means to me.  But for right now, it's all just tears.

Thursday, 21 July 2016

I Tried The Google

Are any of you Mac people and if so, any idea why my iPhone and MacBook aren't syncing to the same time?

I mean, seriously... it could be that I really am a weird time warp person or something, or it could be something systemic. 

I was going to ask a couple of weeks ago when it was off by about two minutes (which I don't think it should be as I think they both sync to the same place...) but then I forgot and then my computer started fritzing out and I tried to do some things to help that and now I'm wondering if it wasn't symptomatic of the fritzing somehow?  Gah.

So yeah.... laundry... clocks... now electronic apple devices.  I've gotta find a way to save all this extra time I keep making... or.. warping... or whatever?

And/or, I would really like my computer not to die.

Wednesday, 20 July 2016

Mumble, Mumble, Just Gonna Say It

I've been trying to find a delicate way to say this or a way to start talking about it but I have put it off for ... I dunno... ages?  (A month or two anyway)  So I figure maybe I should just say it...

I, uh, got my level one Reiki certification.

There.  I said it.

Now I'm going to go hide or something because I feel shy or something that I just told you and so, uh... that's all for now.

Tuesday, 19 July 2016

I Feel So Bad!

Ugh.  So you know I don't like spiders inside my place, but I don't not like spiders per say, I just don't want them around me or on me... and I don't kill the ones in my house, I just escort them out!

Well, I now have a spider situation that I'm feeling really badly about but am probably not going to do anything about (partly because I keep forgetting and partly because I wouldn't know what to do!)

A spider has made a "home" in my driver's side side mirror on my car.

I know this, because I went out a week or to ago and saw a web from the corner of the mirror to my driver's side window and went huh, a spider made a web, go figure, I'm sure it'll blow away.  And it did.  And I didn't think anything more of it. 

Until I went out again a few days later and went "huh... a spider made a web on my car window again, go figure!"  And then it blew away and I didn't think anything more about it until the next day when I started to drive and went ... oh.... there's another web.  Uh....

And that's when I saw him/her, hiding back in the... I dunno... recesses (?) of my mirror and partially ick and argh because what if it's having babies in there ew ew ew but now I don't know what to do!

I don't want to kill or hurt it, so I don't know how to "rescue" it from wherever it is and maybe it's happy there?  Maybe it catches stuff overnight and I just don't know?  Maybe it doesn't mind its web getting destroyed over and over and over I don't know, I just feel badly and sorry for it and I want to help but I don't really want to just yank it out of its home (even if I knew how) but man... I really feel for this poor little spider! 

I just hope he/she is happy and not utterly confused by the constant having to rebuild.  Poor little spider.

Monday, 18 July 2016

Proactively Pre-Emptive Or Something

I just wanted to assure you that if I suddenly stop posting, nothing went wrong.

Not with me, anyway.  I mean, besides all the not fun stuff, I just mean, don't worry.

I say this, because my computer has been acting up.  It did a while ago, but they tested her and found "nothing wrong" which... great.  (said sarcastically, because something was wrong and then I ran out of extended warranty.  sigh)

But the last week or so, things have been getting iffier and iffier.  I can now get about an hour or three before having to shut down to "clear" the random, weird, multi-program issues that are happening.

Yes, I'm backed up... heh... no, I'm not actually, but yes, I've backed up my computer and I've done what I can on my end to see if I can find out if there's anything I can fix or do but I'm just saying... if I suddenly stop posting... it's not me... it's my computer.

But hopefully that won't happen.  I'm just giving you a heads up kind of thing.


My poor baby has the ick.  I just want her to feel better!

Friday, 15 July 2016

What Answer Do They Expect?

I had my annual "full checkup" at the doctor earlier this week and while I seem to have passed with flying colours, she did ask me one question I'm still shaking my head at.

There's a whole series of questions that range anywhere from do you have ringing in your ears to do you feel numbness in your toes, etc. etc.  And then there are those about mental health type stuff, and then she asked me "are you paranoid about anything?"

I said no, but what if I was?  Do paranoid people know they're paranoid or do they just think they're right and everyone else thinks they're paranoid?  I mean, if I thought the FBI was following me (please don't follow me just because I typed your name k?  Thanks!) and was convinced they were I wouldn't say I was paranoid, would I?  I'd just say no, the FBI is actually following me.

I don't know... was I supposed to say yes?  Yes I'm paranoid about losing my job somehow?  Or am I just worried.  How would I know I was paranoid?  Now am I paranoid about not knowing how a paranoid person would answer the question?  I just... I don't really understand how asking that is supposed to elicit a helpful answer.

It's like asking someone if they're in a cult (which someone did actually once ask me.)  They don't think they're in a cult so they're going to say no.  But if they're not actually in a cult (I was going to a small church group at the time... not a cult, but whatever, I had to say no, but since you've asked I probably can't convince you otherwise, but thanks for thinking I'm that naive.) they'll still say no, so... you don't ever really get to find out, or believe them.

Then again, I've never forgotten the lyrics to a Nirvana song... "just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you."

So yeah.  No.  I'm not.

I just wear this tin foil hat for fashion I swear! *winky emoticon goes here y'all*

Thursday, 14 July 2016

It's True Though

I'm still really bummed by how Max has handled everything.  Or not handled everything more to the point.  This drives Jason bonkers as he feels I should just "get over it" or "stop thinking about him already" or something.

Which, sure.  Fine.  That'd be great.  Just... magically, poof!  No more thinking about him.  Done.

I think it's partly due to the seemingly out of nowhere 360.  I so very much want to believe that what we shared meant a lot to us both because that's what we both said (and felt) at the time, but... how could it have if he so completely and utterly wants nothing to do with me now?  I don't understand.

I know of at least one other couple in their camp who have split and are still managing to hang out together (even if it makes one of them uncomfortable) and I would honestly have expected Max to be mature enough to handle that.  Were I a different person, I'd be ignoring his request that I "not even visit" and I'd be camping with the camp and enjoying the company of all the other people I met there.  As it is, I'm pretty soured to the whole scene, which is really too's not their fault they haven't seen the other side of him. 

And I don't want to attach horrible names to him or write him off as a bad person because of how strongly I felt positive things for him and how caring he was while he was.

I know I'm "supposed" to see this as his wounding and all that jazz about how it has nothing to do with me, but it still hurts and it still confuses me and it still leaves me feeling ... unhappy.

I have to pause here, because as I'm writing this, I can hear what may possibly be several drunk men singing some kind of song... only a few of them on key, but I'm happy they're happy and that makes me smile.

I wish the days would stay this long forever, by the way.  Things feel a whole lot easier when there is daylight all day.

Wednesday, 13 July 2016


I have a long list of post topics from last weekend when I had my burst of "gotta write" energy, which now has receded since I gone done wrote.


Last few nights I've wanted to go to sleep at 6 and have made myself stay awake long enough to go to bed at a reasonable hour.  My kid self would be so mad at me!  (I think.  I just remember how much I hated going to bed when it was still light out, ugh!)

So, I'm still trying to find the energy to talk about whatever it is I need or want to talk about and until then I got nothin'

Ta da!

Tuesday, 12 July 2016

For Real

I don't know if you've ever used it, but I find Blogger's search "feature" pretty un-helpful.

Or maybe I just use it wrong, I don't know, but when I go to write about something, sometimes I feel like I've written about it before and I try to search to see if I have.  It's pretty hit or miss.  So... I apologize for the times I possibly repeat myself. 

Did I tell you I got a ticket to Burning Man?  (Wait, I searched again, third time lucky.... so, yeah, I did tell you I got a ticket.)  Well, I did, and it arrived last week.

It was stressful there for a while, as Canada Post is possibly going to strike and, well, that might have meant a ticket stuck in transit for who knows how long.... but ticketing seems to have rushed Canadian orders (we're the only other country they ship to, all other international orders have to be picked up at Will Call, which can be a particularly long wait.  Which, apparently they've changed things to make it less so but Burning Man can involve a lot of waiting. PSA... the more you know.) because of the possible strike.

My order actually came via UPS, which I really appreciated as it saved me wondering if the ticket would get here before or during the possible strike.

I had tears in my eyes as I was carrying that precious package out of the pick up location, and had to stop myself from crying in public. 

I opened it on the walk home and then had to tell myself not to constantly freak out that the ticket would go flying out of the now opened envelope!  So now it, my vehicle pass, and my US dollars that cost me more than any time before in my life (holy smokes was that a shock) are locked safely in my fire safe with my passport and other precious things (hi are you?)

Having my ticket safely and for real in my hand is always a relief.  Never exactly easy this process, but ticket now exists.  For reals. 

Who knew?

Monday, 11 July 2016


Absolutely exhausting weekend with, honestly, no breaks to write or chill or pull myself together. 

Drove the visitors around the Island a bit (not too too far, but far enough that I couldn't fall asleep Saturday night because the room felt like I was still driving when I closed my eyes) and entertained and I am completely done in.

It is lovely to see people seeing this part of the world for the first time.  It really is so beautiful.  That made me happy.

And as amazing bonuses?  I got to see an Osprey fishing over and over and I saw some lovely graffiti (I so appreciate good graffiti art, I really do) and I saw my first ever bear!  A little (maybe yearling?) black cub!  What a treat that was.

But yeah.  Done in.  But bear.  So.  Yeah.

Friday, 8 July 2016


Well, I was going to write a follow up post to yesterday and I did have something I was going to talk about (hurrah!) but.... well, it's been one of those days.  No, but really.

If it wasn't the lost dog saga, it was family visitors coming from waaaaaaay out of town and the place they were going to stay fell through last minute and we figured it wouldn't be too big a deal to find a reasonable place but man oh man... three something a night is not reasonable (my goodness!) and I'm not kidding, we called upwards of twenty places and they were all booked.  One or two could give them a night but none for the number of days they're in town.

None of the rest of us here have a second bedroom so it was looking like juggling couches when someone decided to give air bnb a look through and they found one that was reasonable and available and by this point it was nearly 9 by the way! and then we realized he didn't have an air bnb profile so we all held our collective breaths while he dealt with trying to set up an international account oh my goodness and then, fortunately, we heard back from the host (YAY!) and they just needed to set up the room (change sheets or what have you) as they hadn't been expecting guests (very last minute booking, really, we're lucky they responded at all!!!) and so we decided to grab some food, but wouldn't you know it most places in town close at 10 and it was twenty to and then we found one place but they switched to limited kitchen at ten so we rushed and amen for little traffic and food and yum and free parking double bonus and then take them to their resting spot and oh my goodness am I ever exhausted.  (She typed at 11:54pm Thursday night)

So... yeah... whoops!  Didn't actually get that time I was planning to take to sit and write and yeah.  Ok.  Weekend soon maybe?  K.

Thursday, 7 July 2016

It's Just An Example. But I Do Love Books.

I feel like I have to start with one of the biggest things I don't talk about.  Which means I've been thinking of a way to talk about it still without talking about it.

When I first started reading blogs, forever ago, one of the first I ever came across and enjoyed, told a cautionary tale of how she'd been essentially fired from her job for talking about her job.  So that, combined with a lot of other things, lead me to make the decision that I would never talk about my work, work place, work environment, etc. etc.

And, that, for the most part, has worked out just fine.

Except now, my work is so very directly affecting my life situation that by never talking about it... I'm not talking at all.

So I'm going to attempt to still be vague, while sharing some key points of what's been going on for me.  Kind of.

First thing... I still don't want to talk about what I actually do to earn my wages, so I thought about what jobs I could use as a stand in since saying I'm a spy always just makes me giggle.  And with apologies to the career I'm about to use, let's say I'm a librarian.

With large apologies to librarians in case of accidental insultation.  (Again, not a word... I bet a real librarian wouldn't make up words)

I didn't grow up wanting to be a librarian but my Dad was a librarian and, well, honestly, that's probably why I didn't want to be a librarian.  Who wants to be what their parent is, right? Parents are boring, and just parents, they have no "real" life.  But I also love books.  And when I got my first university degree, I still had no idea what I was going to do with my life and my Dad suggested I volunteer in his library while I tried to figure it out.

And I loved it.  All those books!  SO MANY!  And yay!  Reasons!  Librarians are awesome!

So I went back to school and became a librarian and as luck would have it, got hired pretty much right away.  So awesome.

But I had no idea how difficult it would be.  How draining I would find it.  In some ways, I'm very well suited to being a librarian... I love books.  And organizing.  And quiet.  Except it turns out being a librarian is so much more than that.  SO MUCH.  It's a massive amount of work and really really hard work and on top of that people don't think it's very difficult work.

And people tease you.  "Oh, must be nice to sit and read books all day" and "oooh do you wear your hair in a bun and tell people shhhhhh while pointing to no talking signs?"

And I'm a sensitive person, so I was always kind of hurt by the teasing.  And the assumption that being a librarian was an easy gig.

And then there was the other stuff.  Dealing with all the things I never expected to have to deal with.  People yelling in the library.  People sleeping in the library.  (I'm making this stuff up... mainly from movies and tv shows... sorry real librarians!)  People yelling at me because we didn't have the copy of that one book they wanted.  People telling me I'm a terrible librarian because other people took out the three copies of the book they thought would be in.  People being .... mean about... something or other library-related, oh, plus all that hard work.... it has never been easy for me.  I take it all so very personally and I take it hard.

But there is always the books.  Which I love.  So I've focussed on how much I enjoy being around books and reading and watching other people love books.

But it's hard.  Sometimes people wreck books and don't tell us.  Or they write in them, or ARGH! dog ear fold the pages.  People don't take care of the books and then other people yell at me when they find a book is ruined in some way.

And books are more expensive than they used to be and it's harder to buy them.  And now we have more than books and I don't know how I feel about that.  Or the digital book lending... or DVDs, or... even the fact that we've moved away from those awesome big file folders you used to have to go to as a kid to find a book.

I don't know how I feel about people coming to a library to use a computer and not reading a book at all.  It's not my father's library.  It's not even the one of my youth.

So, without me even really realizing it, my job has been chipping away at me for a very long time.  For ever really.  But it's always been a decent job.  And what else would I do anyway.  Plus, books.  I like books.

In a hindsight is 20-20 kind of way, I remember dating DD, ages ago, and venting to him about something work related... maybe they were trying to change the branch I worked in or something, I don't know, or maybe someone was burning books or had put a squirrel in the return slot (shush, my brain likes to throw in strange things sometimes to keep myself awake!) and DD said, you know, you complain about your job so much, maybe you shouldn't be a librarian.

But I'd not been at it five years at that point and oh, right, my brother also was a librarian, and he told me that the first five years are the hardest and then it gets a bit easier.

So I stuck it out.  Because books.  And a job.  And, well, it's good to be a librarian.  You know?

And I had friends I worked with, and we enjoyed working together every day.

But then my best friend and work left and I was miserable.

But then C-Dawg moved to my branch and I was happy.  We laugh together every day, it's awesome.

Except I was miserable.  But not.  Because... books?  And a job... and... what else would I do anyway, I'd been a librarian for so long... I wouldn't even know what else to do.  And all I have is librarian skills.

And I got less and less tolerant of things.  WHO PUT MOTHERBLEEPING GUM UNDER THIS CHAIR?  And really for years, going to my job every day was about all I could muster.  Events in the evening?  Too tired, too drained.  Weekend?  Maybe... but I'll have to psych myself up for it.

I'm very much an introvert in that after being with people, I need down time to recharge.  And with the exception of a few people in my life, I don't want to be around other people after spending day after day after day being nice to people in the library.

Well, why can't I just be a mean librarian?  Because I think I'll get fired.  I have this major fear that goes something along the line of... someone will either figure out I'm a terrible librarian, or will get mad at something I didn't do right in the library and I'll get fired.  And that train of thought leads directly to, I'll be homeless.   Jumping right on this train, by the way is the idea that if people who come to the library (or maybe even my boss) figures out certain things about me, like I go to Burning Man, or I have an anonymous blog, or I like sex (WHAT? SHHHH!) I will get fired. 

It's all a cluster of things, as these things often are... me not being well suited for the parts of being a librarian I didn't know about and they didn't teach you about in university.  Me being sensitive and not having a thick skin or what have you.  Me being drained by the day to day, and feeling like I shouldn't be.  So many of the other librarians just seem to have no problem and I feel like some kind of failure for not wanting to get up and go to work every day.  My Dad always loved going to work.

I must be wrong.

It was at some point about a year ago that I did something at work that both earned me a nickname I hate from Jason and made me really realize I wasn't handling work all that well.

I bundled up all the holiday time I could and took an extra long time off in the Summer and that seemed to help.  A bit.

And then I met Max and it felt so wonderful being with and around him and I was so so so amazingly happy that when I came back to work and felt how miserable I was, it was like walking into a brick wall.

I had no idea what to do.

And because I don't talk about work, I didn't talk about work.  But it was a significant issue in my life.  Fortunately, I could talk about Max for a while, and then the breakup for a while but then all my steam ran out.

My steam ran out because not only was I not feeling well, my body started to get really sick.  September was bad, but I had Max as a lovely distraction so I coped, but by October I was sick enough that I couldn't keep ignoring it.

This wasn't just my stomach stuff that I'm used to.  This was me being unable to keep food down.  Or in me at all.  Even when I could eat.  Most of the time even the thought of food nauseated me.  I forced protein and sustenance on myself when I could but it was awful.  Then there was the dizzy spins.  Which, perhaps was food related but I think with protein drinks and the like I was doing ok calorie wise, if not perfectly.  There was the spins and then the anxiety that I think I maybe mentioned here.  Anxiety beyond anything I have ever experienced in my life.

And through all this the not so nice voices in my head got really loud.  And in a lot of situations, were unfortunately found out to be true.  Like with Max.

I didn't know how to talk to him about any of this and we weren't talking all that often anyway but I think at one point I mentioned to him hey... so if I left my library and came down your way... what... uh, what do you think I could maybe do?  And I talked about how I wasn't enjoying being a librarian, but I didn't mention how sick I was.  So when, one day, Max texted that he wasn't doing ok, the anxiety and the chorus of voices that work with it screamed at me that he was ending things.  That it was over.  That this perfect perfection of everything I'd ever wanted in a relationship was going to end and it was my fault.  And, as I said, that unfortunately happened.  Which reinforced everything the anxiety had ever told me and,well, it was ugly.

At some point, when it was beyond bad and I couldn't eat or sleep or function all that well, my brother stepped in and told me that I really needed to go see my doctor.  My brother, by the way, also used to be a librarian.  I say it in the past tense because he decided to change careers for his own reasons, but he also has an understanding of how hard the job is that a non librarian might not have.  And he was worried.

I went in to see my doctor.  She was worried.

Stress-induced blah blah blah was diagnosed with a heaping side order of Acute Depression and Panic Disorder.  Her words, not mine.  Mine were "I don't know what to do anymore."

She wanted to put me on antidepressants, but I was on them ages ago and disliked them so much I will not go on them again.  (I have other things to say about that but I try to stay a-political and neutral here... ahem)  She talked me into reducing my work hours, which I freaked out about A LOT for financial reasons (and for pride reasons... but people will think I'm crazy... I'm not... I'm just... physically unwell and have some... well, my brain isn't handling anything well right now.)

C-Dawg told me not to worry.  That people didn't need to know.  She handled anyone who asked her why I was working less by either telling them I was sick, or that it was none of their business.  I didn't tell anyone at first.

Jason knew.  My brother knew.  C-Dawg knew... a bit.  I have a hard time attaching the words Depression and Anxiety to myself... in fact, I'm not going to capitalize them anymore.  But there was some day back a few months ago when I was talking here about not feeling like doing much and Jason L. (of comment fame) said, hey, you sound depressed, and I just kind of nodded at the comment.  Yeah.  Yeah, I am.

I've been working really really hard.  Like, really hard.

I've been seeing a counsellor since Fall.  And I go back from time to time to see the psychologist who helped me with my car accident trauma.  I've been going to acupuncture very very regularly, and I've been trying to exercise, although I'll be honest... for much of Fall and Winter, it would take a massive effort to get myself even around the block some days.  But I did.  And now I'm starting to get back to the gym.  And I walk to whatever appointments I can.

I didn't tell you guys any of this.  And I didn't tell my parents.   This has been incredibly hard for me, but I haven't wanted to upset or worry them.

They're not as young as they once were.  My Dad just turned 80, actually.  And while they're younger than I thought they would be at this age (if that makes sense) they're still not young.  And they don't need to take on my stress induced illnesses.  It's not life and death.  But it made things hard.  "How is work dear, any new books in?"  Oh.. work is the same. ... change topic.  I've never lied to my parents before and it feels strange to be making this choice for them.

There's also the fact that they don't believe in "mental health" or "stress", they just believe in toughing it out.

So most of my world doesn't know I've been through this.  Am going through this.  I'm not even sure I want to put it out in this way, but it's either this, or continue to have nothing to write about.  So this it is.

I still am struggling with food.  I have lost ten pounds.  Which... I guess is an upside.  Yay?  My body is still not back to where any of the specialists would like it to be but my counsellor and my acupuncturists are really happy with the progress with everything.

Some days, the anxiety still gets the best of me.  And on those days, I wish there was something I could take that would help.  But I don't want pharmaceuticals.  I have herbs from the acupuncturists that help, and I try to exercise and breathe but man.  Panic attacks suck.  End of story.  They just do.

So I'm not really sure where else to go with this post.  To be honest, I don't even feel like re-reading it right now so I'll try to wrap it up somehow.

I am, and have been for the better part of a year now, breaking down all the systems and patterns and behaviours in my life that have gotten me stuck and unhappy.  This may, at some point, mean leaving being a librarian, but I am not in the space to make that call right now.  My goal is to get myself better, both physically and mentally/emotionally, and then to make any decisions about what I might do to make money.  I mean, after all, I do like books, right?  (Sigh)

I am right in the middle of all this and in some ways I am grateful.

I have had to give up a lot.  Even just financially, I had to give up a savings plan I was on with the idea I would take a four month sabbatical in a couple of years.  I had to give that up to be able to afford being part time at work and the treatments I felt would be most helpful.  Fuck that hurt.  You have no idea.

But to be honest, it all hurts.  It's a mess in here right now.

My physical health is getting better, but it's still not all that great.  My mental and emotional health are improving but it is more work than I would have ever imagined and I don't have a whole lot of energy to begin with, so it's difficult at best.  Man, I could go on and on here, but I won't... let me try to TL;DR...

I'm not ok.  But I'm a hell of a lot more ok than I was back when I realized I was not ok.  I'm going to be ok.  I don't know when.  It's really really a lot of hard work.  I'm scared.  But trying not to be.

I'm not sure I'll put comments on for this.  I really don't want advice.  Even well meant advice is making me angry these days.  And I don't like feeling angry.  Plus, I'm beyond sensitive.  To everything.  No, really.  If I was sensitive before?  Now I'm all completely utterly ripped open and raw and if you tell me I'm doing it wrong I will lose it. I mean... not that that's your fault, I'm just saying.

So, yeah.  Librarians?  Sorry!  You guys are awesome (I assume) and I know very little about what you do except that it's really really difficult and I really really do like books and the library was my favourite place to go as a kid, like for reals.  So thank you for that and I'm sorry I used you as my example and I hope I didn't put you down in any way because that would suck.  I'm not a librarian.  I don't even play one on tv.  But yay you!

Yeah.  Um.  Hi.

How about them Canucks/Blue Jays/other sports team reference used to change the subject, eh?  How are you?

(No, seriously, how are you? I'm ok, not ok, you?)

Wednesday, 6 July 2016


It's like my brain can't hold post ideas right now.

I sat down to write (I have a post in progress, but it's not done yet, so I need another one) and whatever idea or thought or story I was going to share ran away from my brain.

So I sat for a few doing something else and another idea popped into my brain, yay!

Except now it's gone.  Sigh.

It might have had to do with my hair?  Or maybe food?

I'm not sure.  I wrote a bunch of ideas and thoughts down but now some of them don't seem as inspirational, like "life"... I'm not sure what I was trying to remind myself to write about, so... yeah. 

Anyhoooo... how about them there (insert popular, neutral conversational topic here)?

Tuesday, 5 July 2016


Totally apropos of nothing except it made me giggle.

I have an app on my phone that tracks my periods.  Yes, I said it.  Period.

I noticed just the other day that it had been given an update, and this is where my amusement came in!

Now, I know that when people are trying to get pregnant they track all kinds of things, and this app has always had the ability to mark a day as a day you were intimate.  You know, you had naughty time?  Did way more than smooched?  Had the sexy sex?

Now, I also know that when people are trying to get pregnant and tracking the days they are being intimate they may also track a number of other things.  So, I suppose it is in this vein that the app now has several... things you can choose when you are marking that you have been intimate.

Like... used protection or not.  Ok, that makes total sense.

Orgasm or not.  (Giggle)  But ok, that makes sense... I believe there are some theories that it helps conception, but no, I'm not googling that... my google searches are already quite odd!

But then, the ones that really gave me the giggles.  You can now enter, as well as protection use and orgasm obtention (I made that word up so totally... like you obtained it?  Obtention.  It's an awesome word.)  But you can also enter position!  And to make it even better, they give you options!!!  Now, granted, they only give you three choices (giggle) and I'm guessing there may be some sort of baby-making reason for it but it just makes me giggle.  Proof, yet again, that there really is an app for everything.

Monday, 4 July 2016

When There Is No Beginning

I've been sitting (mentally) staring at the computer screen for a couple of weeks now, trying to figure out what to say.  Or how to say it.  Or what to continue not saying.  Or where to start.  Or all of the above.

That, combined with having gotten myself out of a blog writing process that served me well for a decade, or what do they call it... a workflow... a habit/pattern that worked... combining those two things has left me feeling like just kind of not.

I think also, if I'm honest with myself, there's another thing that's thrown my routines and computer space time into a bit of a spin.  And it's a weird one for me, but lest I distract myself with that story, I'll just assume I'll remember to come back to it when it's a more right time to. But yeah.  Triple whammy of things meaning I stare at this space and go huh... I have nothing to write about... what do I do about that?

So this... this is me forcing myself to take some time (on a sunny Saturday no less... but while my laundry goes, so I'm inside for a time anyway... TIME WARP.. ahem) to maybe sort through and talk with you guys.  Even if "you guys" is just me, talking to myself.  That's ok too.  That helps.  And it's maybe time I get back to a bit more of that.  (Oh, and no, I'm not tracking page views anymore, that was something I let go a few years ago, so I only know people are reading when they comment.  Thank you to those who do read, I hope my journey somehow helps you on yours!)

I remember years ago (funny to think my first Burning Man was "years" ago... 2013... how odd... I swear it was yesterday) someone commenting that they were frustrated that I broke my "story telling" up into several posts.  Sorry... but this isn't about the reader's comfort, this is me, babbling my way through whatever so things may be broken up, they may be shattered, I don't know.  Or they may be giant, long, difficult to wade through posts.  It's going to be what it's going to be.

Writing is a strange beast at times.  Perhaps always.  Maybe especially so when it's not someone else's story, but yours.
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.