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One Hundred Things…

November 5, 2007

So I’ve officially become inspired by Jessica over at Mommy Has Tattoos. She is writing 100 things about herself on her blog as part of an acronym I can’t remember about blogging everyday in November. It’s a cool concept but I think I am far too much of a slacker to write EVERYDAY… and my very limited readership could probably attest to that. However, I think it’s neat to write about yourself. Call it self-involved or what have you, but isn’t that the purpose of blogs? Lately I have become so uninspired it’s been difficult to write anything, perhaps this will serve as my motivation. That said, I am going to write 100 things about me. Some will be boring, some will be heartfelt… all will be true. But I won’t bother you with them all at once.

 1) I am 5′10″ and if one more person tells me “Wow, you’re TALL!” I may have to punch them in the nose.

2) I haven’t seen my natural hair color in almost ten years and I don’t miss it.

3) I worry that my DH deserves someone better than me

4) I am terrible at following through with things. I have amazing ideas, but rarely want to put the work into them to make them successful.

5) I spent this weekend teaching myself how to knit.

6) I am making all my Christmas gifts this year.

7) I have picked out the music to play at my Dad’s funeral and I feel awful about it. Thinking about him dying breaks my heart. (My father is in great health so there is no logic to thinking these thoughts)

8 ) There is only one person in my life I don’t know how to forgive. I don’t think she even knows or cares that I am still broken from it. I don’t know how to forgive someone who won’t even admit they hurt you. I want to learn how…

9) I started dating my DH at 17 years of age… we never broke up.

10) I think my dog believes he’s a human.

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Thursday Thirteen

November 1, 2007

Thirteen Reasons I Haven’t Written Since LAST Thursday

1) I have actually had a decent week, and since most of my writing is “angsty” I have had very little inspiration.

2) I have been busy at work. This equates to far less time slacking (AKA blogging) and by the time I get home, the last place I want to be is in front of the computer.

3) Facebook- pretty self-explanitory

4) My life is not very interesting

5) I have been on a sugar high for most of the week (thank you Halloween) and will not expose you to my hyper thoughts. Believe me… you’re better off.

6) I have been enjoying the fall weather so much, I don’t need to write about it.

7) My dog demands a lot of my attention and does not understand why on earth I need to stare at a screen when I could be kissing his belly. Sheesh!

8 ) I am lazy

9) I like not HAVING to have this obligation to write. Sure, my readers may dwindle off but my purpose for this blog was never for them. It was for me! (As much as I do love you randoms!!)

10) My burnt fingers still don’t appreciate too much typing.

11) I have been actually TALKING about my feelings instead of writing them.

12) I have spent this week sorting out me and DH’s finances and have discovered that with a lil work, we can be completely debt free in 34 months AND keep a savings. I know- take THAT student loans people!!!

13) It’s easier to write a meme than to come up with something COMPLETELY original!

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Thursday Thirteen

October 25, 2007

Thirteen Things I Love about Thursdays

1) The obvious- it’s THAT much closer to Friday

2) Grey’s Anatomy and CSI are on tonight (lame I know)

3) I get paid tomorrow

4) The “nutman” comes into work and sells goodies.

5) I have Hatha Yoga class on Thursdays

6) It’s the Ways To Use It challenge on SCS

7) It was always a fun day in elementary school- “Tacky Tie Thursdays” etc.

8 ) I’ve made it PAST the middle of my work week

9) I used to have the girlies over on Thursdays for “Thirsty Thursdays” and have cosmos and watch girlie movies. (And then I moved and left them all behind).

10) In university, Thursday was cheap night at the pub

11) No kid can say Thursday. It’s always “Terrsday” which is priceless and cute.

12) I get to write Thursday Thirteens!

13) It is REALLY hard to think of 13 reasons to love a specific day of the week but I did it, therefore Thursdays rock.

 

Links to other Thursday Thirteens:

Court

Plucky Momma

 

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Just a Day In the Office…

October 24, 2007

Fingers clacking,

Pages flapping,

Minds’ eyes whir and spin.

All the muffled conversations,

Intellectual constipation,

Clocking out or clocking in.

The hands are ticking,

Phone’s a-ringing.

Robotic like it should be

I smile on cue,

I’m polite to you,

What you get is what you see.

Automatic signs,

The same old lines,

All too familiar punchlines.

The rehearsed giggle,

As you belittle,

Survive till five, then home-time!

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Karma Hates Me

October 19, 2007

I must have punched a baby in the face in another life.

 Karma is mean. I have no idea what I did but this week has been evil. I swear I did something terrible in a past life- hence my ridiculously offensive first sentence. Ok so I’m getting a tad dramatic- but this has really been a TERRIBLE, REALLY BAD, NO GOOD, REALLY BAD WEEK! Let’s recap shall we?

Last Thursday I came down with a nasty stomach virus. I prayed many times to the gods of porcelin and at one point I belive I met my own intestine face to face. His name is Bob- I hope to never see him again. I don’t know about you but I can’t stand going home sick from work. Everyone else in my office, when they are ill they just call me. I however have to go to my boss- ie. the president of our firm.

Me: “Hi Mr. President. I’m so sorry but I am feeling very ill and I am going to have to leave work early. I have arranged for Coworker A to cover my responsibilities until my return.”

Him: *evil glare like he’s trying to take my temperature with his retenas* Ohhh…

Me: *stammers while trying not to vomit on his overpriced shoes* “Uhhh yeah so I’ll try and get in with my Doctor today (which is like impossible she’s so busy). I’m sure I’ll be in first thing in the morning… (yeah right!) I really don’t want to miss too much work.”

Him: *judges me silently and promotes an unecessary feeling of guilt*

Me: *runs for the bathroom to “pray”*

SERIOUSLY! This is not required. I do not someone to make me feel worse than I already do. I was practically introducing Bob to him and he made me feel about 14 years old playing hooky.

So after a very soggy and unsightly weekend of flu- I make it back into work on Monday. Wouldn’t ya know it? My only coworker (administratively anyway) is sick. Now everything falls to my tired ass- ggrrrr! The saga continues…

On Wednesday I decide I am going to use  my flat iron to curl my hair. I’ve been in flu recovery mode for a while and it’s time to feel pretty again. Oh did I mention I use a professional flat iron that is 425 degrees? Oh yes so I’m curling away and my darling idiotic (said with love) husband comes into the bathroom. He starts chatting away to me when OOPS he steps on the cord. This of course sets off a chain reaction. The cord pulls the iron out of my hands, I try to catch it before it falls and grab one of the plates with my fingers. *sizzle sizzle- screams in agony- flat iron is now thrown on the floor* OOOOWWWW!! Crappiest way to start a morning. After keeping my fingers under the coldest water I can stand for 30 mins I have no choice but to go to work. After all I just missed a day a half last week due to Bob. Oh and my hair is half curly half not. Sweet! Poor hubby has to attempt to put a ponytail in my hair (as presentation counts in my workplace) and a stylist he is not. Oh and did I mention that this happened to my right hand? And as nature would have it, I am right handed. And I have to use a mouse and keyboard ALL DAY!! So for 8 hours these poor blistered fingers were back and force between the bag of ice water and the computer… not fun! I actually had to keep them on ice for TWELVE lovely hours before I could see the doctor. She prescribed me a topical anesthetic and bandaged me up so I look like E.T. Yeah, I’m sexy like that.  Hey, I try to look at it this way, if I ever commit a crime with JUST my pinky and ring finger they’ll never be able to track me! WOO HOO!

Throughout this week there have been fights with my hubby, the stubbing of toes, the burning of brownies and other minor calamities too!

Then yesterday I felt like I was having an ok day. Towards the end of the day I get a call for my boss from someone named “Cindy from AB Canada* (totally changed the name to protect the innocent). I call my boss and let him know that Cindy from AB Canada is calling for him. He accepts the call. After quite the lengthy convo, he comes storming out of his office to yell at me.

Him: “WE HAVE A PROBLEM!!”

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Him: “YOU KEEP GIVING ME INCORRECT INFORMATION ABOUT MY CALLS!!! THAT WAS NOT CINDY FROM DNB CANADA ON THE PHONE!!!!”  *exclamation marks practically exploding out of his skull*

Me: *turning 6 shades of red that he’s yelling at me in public over something so stupid* “I never said she was fron DNB Canada, I said she was calling from AB Canada.” *doing my utmost to keep calm*

Him: *launches into a tirade about vulturous telemarketers and how I should be INTERROGATING all his calls etc. etc.*

Me: *ready to burst into tears* “I’m sorry sir, I will ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

How is this my fault, I wonder, as he storms back into his office? How is it my responsibility to make sure he’s heard me correctly and understand who EXACTLY he is taking a call from?? I don’t take this sort of thing well, especially after a sucky week.

Oh to sum up the rest of my week, I spilled ash from our new (to us) BBQ as we tried to get it up the stairs, I left the cover off the brownies by mistake so they dried out, I stubbed my toe AGAIN, missed my favorite show and the smoothie place mixed up my order.

I totally pissed off someone in a previous life…

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Life is a Beach

October 17, 2007

Oh love,

Like waves on the shore we are.

Peaceful turmoil,

What a sight.

Many walk past us,

Take leisurely steps in frothy waves and

Enjoy the way our love

Squishes between their toes.

Some sit at our edge.

Watching our foamy fingers

Get ever closer to them.

Always just out of reach.

What treasures will we bring to them?

Yet others will frolic in our love,

Jump and play in us with abandon.

Caught up in the joy of us.

But the precious few

Who recognize my face in the waves,

Who can hear your voice in the crashing breakers

Those rare few comb our shores for treasure.

And with pockets heavily laden

Slowly walk into our depths

Our watery hands cling to them

We hug the waist, the shoulders, the lips, the eyes.

Feet that defy the urge to float.

Come visit our love

In deepest realms

Let me rock you in turmoil and peace.

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Because I Get This Way…

October 15, 2007

I go through stages. I know everyone does, but I seriously go through this one stage every s often where I reject everything I love. I don’t want to work, play, do any of my hobbies. I just want to become a fat lump. This will sometimes last upwards of a month. A whole month of my life where the joys I experience are only momentary and disappear as soon as they occur. I feel grey at these times. Muddy. Like I am unable to see who I am or what I want. Where I cannot vocalize what I’m feeling. And this is why I have been such a slacker-pants with my writing. I have sat here with the cursor blinking on a blank page and have had NOTHING to say. Today I am cheating and filling out a survey thing… perhaps tomorrow won’t be so grey.

What were you doing 10 years ago?

Ten years ago I was 12. I was in grade seven. I was freakishly tall, super skinny, had a wicked evil perm in my hair and I thought I was awesome! I was brilliant. Literally brilliant at school. I loved learning, I loved debating and exploring new viewpoints. I was kind of a know-it-all. I was stubborn, I still am but I am far more open-minded now. I sang in a choir and had 2 best friends. I have ZERO relationship with those girls now (except for a “hello” when I run into them once every five years). One of those girls would rock my self-esteem and self-confidence to an all-time low. One of those girls worked slowly and methodically behind my back to hurt me deeper than anyone ever has. I am still learning to forgive that girl- lame I know! Oh and I was boy crazy… not that they really noticed me at this age.

What were you doing 1 year ago?

1 year ago I gave my 2 weeks notice at the salon. What a relief to get away from the gossip mongering women… and yet I still miss elements of it. I miss the creativity, the cheapcolro and cuts, the experimentation and the comraderie. I do not miss the constant drama. Hubby and I were packing up our house and preparing to move 10 hours away- SCARY!

Five Snacks You Enjoy

1.) Booster Juice Matcha Monsoon Smoothies

2.) Gogi Berries

3.) Chocolate in any form except cake and ice cream (how weird am I?)

4.) Cashews

5.) Rice Cakes

Five Songs That You Know All The Lyrics To

1.) I Miss You by Incubus

2.) Delilah by Plain White Tees

3.) Forever by Ben Harper (was my wedding song)

4.) Tiny Dancer by Elton John (or Tony Danza as my dear friend calls it)

5.) Do you Remember by Jack Johnson

Five Things You Would Do If You Were a Millionaire

1.) Pay off all our stupid debt

2.) Buy/build a house

3.) Put Hubby through school

4.) Invest in our retirement etc.

5.) Have baby.

Five Bad Habits

1.) Being self-involved

2.) Being too quick to anger.

3.) Playing the victim

4.) Not standing up for myself when I need to

5.) Not being disciplined when it comes to my health

Five Things You Like To Do

1.) Sing

2.) Cuddle with my Hubby

3.) Take drives late at night to absolutely nowhere

4.) Play with my puppy in the park- he LOVES it

5.) Worship

Five Things You Would Never Wear Again

1.) An uncomfortable bra- agony!

2.) Stirrup Pants

3.) Umbro shorts

4.) Tapered jeans

5.) Panty hose- like a sausage stuffed in there, eewwww

Five Favorite Toys

1.) Digital Camera

2.) All my crazy crafting supplies

3.) Flat Iron

4.) Computer

5.) Ipod

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Uninspired

October 3, 2007

I am the empty vase today

So fragile, and delicate

No one sees my vacant pose.

You are the flowers that get given

For special occasions and empty apologies

What a fragrant gesture of superficialism.

No one sees that I am the one who holds you up

The structure to your color and grace

I am the nourisher just under the rim.

I breathe life into weary stems.

Yet I get marred by the dirty paws of daily living

Their fingers leave me feeling opaque.

And I am the one your thorns rest upon

My flesh is the one that they bite.

And when I am holding you in all of your glory

The world seems to smile a bit broader

They revel in your scent, your color, your vivacity

And I lie ignored and alone.

I am the vase, the cold-hearted vase

Who keeps you established and proud

I uphold this lie that you call existence.

I am the vase, that pathetic old vase

Hollow and transparent

Sitting in the recesses forgotten.

And whenever you wish, whenever you call

You know I will be there expectant,

Some things are purposed for the destiny of others.

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Trying Something New…

October 1, 2007

First of all- you must know that I am one of those ridiculous women who FEEL everything. I care about everything under the sun. I care that someone I don’t know or don’t like or don’t care to know has a bad opinion about me. I care when people misunderstand me. I care that some perfect stranger on the street bumped into me and didn’t apologize. I care that some angry driver flips me the bird when clearly I have done nothing wrong. I care when I’m gossiped about. I care when I can’t reach someone, can’t get through to them or connect to them. I literally care about everything.

And thus I want to discuss and “fix” everything. I want to reach conclusions and solutions. I want to reconcile differences and understand intentions. I want to make things all better. I don’t want to be right necessarily, but I want you to understand where I was coming from, why I did what I did or said what I said.

And then I married a mute.

Not literally, but close. Now before I vent, I must put up this disclaimer: I love my husband with all my heart. He is an amazing, wonderful man and I am truly glad I married him. But as his wife I have every right to vent my frustrations to blogland, because even expressing myself to nothingness is somehow pacifying.

So he’s mute- or as good as. Oh don’t get me wrong, he talks all the time. He laughs, he makes jokes, he even gets in deep discussions. He’s fantastic until the SLIGHTEST sign of conflict, and then he’s mute. This man can literally shut down if I so much as raise my voice slightly. He can fall asleep while I sob my heart out. He can ignore me till the cows come home. He can stick his head in the sand and wait for the issue to just be over. And even as I write this, I realize it makes me sound like a raving lunatic. I sound like the type of woman who freaks out incessantly and whines and cries when people are sick of it. I don’t feel this is the case.

Compared to how he used to be, he is certainly improving. He is getting better at speaking up in times of conflict and actually participating when things aren’t peachy. BUT he has developed two habits that are slowly driving me up the wall. The first is that he only sees about “this much” of a situation. It’s like he sees a situation with blinders on. To give you a completely fictional example:

After the 12 millionth time of Jimmy leaving his wet towel on the floor, Sandra has had enough! She angrily picks the towel up, marches to the couch where Jimmy is sitting and lays into him.

Sandra- “JIMMY! I have asked you a million times to not leave your dirty wet towel on the floor. These are expensive towels and it makes a mess. You obviously don’t care about me or the last million times I’ve asked because you’re still doing it!!”

Jimmy- “Uhh sorry… I won’t do it again”

Sandra- (bursts into tears) “Yeah right you won’t!”

**********************************************************************************************************

I know, amazing story. Of course it’s a bit exaggerated but what is the point of venting if you’re not allowed to embellish things slightly? Now my dear hubby, if he were playing the role of Jimmy, would be bewildered. All he would see is his crazy wife Sandra, going ballistic over one measly towel left on the floor! He would treat her like she was irrational and over-reacting. One freaking towel- no need to fuss. He thinks that his promise of never doing it again should placate her. 

What our dear, fictional Jimmy does not see is everything that has led up to this seemingly irrational explosion. He doesn’t remember all the times he has done this before. Or the way he’s been ignoring her lately. He doesn’t notice that he stopped opening doors for her, or he embarrassed her in front of his friend last night. The wet towel was simply the last straw. Sandra never spoke up about the other things. The way those things made her feel worthless and uncared for. She didn’t get upset about those incidents, because they were little. But little things add up and this little thoughtless act with the towel was the final act for her. She had to let him know what he was doing, so she flew off the handle. And after a million times of asking, ANOTHER empty promise of him never doing it again seems worthless.

This would be a typical little spat with us. My dear darling husband comes off as this poor victim who’s lunatic wife is ranting about ONE towel. He has blinders on to any of the lead-up to it. 

Then my favorite excuses of all time come up. Whenever he does something wrong it’s either “an accident” or “he forgot”. This is an intelligent, successful man. He doesn’t forget to go to work, or dress himself or buy himself a coffee. He only “forgets” when it comes to me, or something I have asked of him. Selective memory at its finest. He also does not have “accidents” at work. If he were having accidents all the time he would not be employed, he would not have a clean driving record or be considered a competent student. Again, the “accidents” seem to happen around me. And because of these two lovely excuses, my husband thinks I should just get over it. Because there was no intentional effort to hurt me or cause me pain, I should not be upset. But not caring, not thinking and not considering me HURTS!!! It is just as painful to be forgotten as it is to be insulted in my opinion. He will not take ownership of this sort of thing.

And if I manage to explain myself and he feels even a tiny twinge of guilt then he comes out running in defensive mode. What about HIS feelings? Don’t his feelings matter at ALL? Well yes, of course they do. But why are you suddenly going off about feelings you never expressed before? Feelings you would never have brought up at all until I made you feel wrong about something and now you’re filled with FEELINGS that I’m not considering. At this point in an argument I don’t really care about these convenient feelings that just popped out of nowhere, because if he hasn’t noticed we’re talking about MINE!! *panting, takes a breath*

See? I care. I care that I can’t get through to the man I love. I care that we go ’round and ’round in circles and both end up feeling worse then we did before. I care that resolution seems unreachable. I care that little things can add up to big things. I care that I feel so wounded by someone who won’t acknowledge that he’s wounded me. I care.

And thus I am trying something new- I am trying on apathy for size. I am trying to put walls back up around my heart. Because sometimes intimacy costs t0o much. I would rather feel crappy on my own thank you very much. So here goes my best attempt at feeling nothing for the man I feel too much for.

I don’t have much faith in numbness, but I hope it gets me through today…

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Miscommunication

September 28, 2007

Like black and white we are

Two souls so joined

Yet stretched as far as east is from west.

Stretched.

And let go.

Warped and distorted.

Nursing my wounds.

Silence is your everyday armour.

Apparently anger is mine.

Or so you say.

How do you “cold shoulder” the heartless?

Here we go again.

I can see it coming

Another night of “what’s wrong”s and perpetual silence

You know perfectly well

You know what it’s doing to me

Too bad I have every intention of  giving up on you

On us

… At least for today.