New

So C-Dawg has started seeing someone. Has a new boyfriend.

And I'm really happy for her and it's so sweet to watch her going through being so excited and nervous and dreamy about this new relationship.

Sure, it makes me miss having that in my life, but I'm not jealous, just a little melancholy if I let myself go there.

The thing that's taking some adjustment for me is the whole process of having a friend start out in a new relationship.

I don't think I've ever done that as an adult.

Most of my good girlfriends either were already in their current relationship when I met them or we weren't close at the time they started their current relationship and only grew close once they were already together.

So this is a new experience for me and being one who's not awfully fond of change, I'm having some bumpy moments.

What's good about it is that with C-Dawg I can just be honest and she can tell me that I'm being a goof, or that I have nothing to worry about.

But it's sure an interesting thing to be going through. And it makes me realize how I must seem to my friends when I start out *my* new relationships. Kind of crazy, kind of cute.

But I guess I'm back to being the only single one again.

We Now Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Broadcasts

Ok, I am so excited and this may not make sense or mean anything to anyone else but Eddie Izzard's going to be on this season of United States of Tara!

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!

Not All The Days Are Bad Days

I feel like I'm right in the middle of some kind of forging. Not quite a trial by fire, but a huge sense of if I can make it through this AND learn the lessons that are being pushed at me and hold on to them and grow from them it'll be worth it.

My Dad's had some more test results back and things are. . . unsure. He's got a couple of unrelated health concerns and it'll be a few more weeks until we can get him in for a test for one of them which will either be a relief or . . . very much not. We're hoping for good.

They've also found something else with his heart and so he'll be going in for open heart surgery to repair that.

When we talk about the worst case scenario it suddenly seems both completely unreal and too too close.

So just when things there were feeling like maybe they were settling, we've been shaken up again and some days I'm barely hanging on.

I've been muddling around with the need to go see someone since Dad first got sick months ago, but somehow it's felt like if I didn't go, it wasn't serious enough. Sort of, if I went and talked to someone, it would all become real.

But that thinking has gotten me nowhere good. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.

I'm a good coper.

I cope well.

But I also can tell when I'm getting to my limits and I reached one last week.

As I mentioned, J.S. sent me an email checking in on how my Dad was doing and when I said whatever babbled answer I gave, she suggested I get grief counseling.

I read that and burst into tears.

Which is maybe a good indication that she's right.

I have no stigma when it comes to counseling or therapy or whatever professional help is needed. I've been through both and have been helped by both so it's funny that I'm so resistant to it this time. Guess I just don't want to admit it's real.

In terms of what's going on in my life right now, I'm in a tough place.

And when I'm in a tough place it touches on everything.

So I'm not just hurting about my Dad, the emotions are also touching on how I feel about being single and my insecurities there and it's all really big picture stuff.

When I cry, it's big.

Michael's lovely proposal to Holly in The Office? I cried and cried and cried.

Then I rewound it and cried all over again. Soaking my shirt kind of crying.

During all this, I'm talking to C-Dawg a lot. A lot of emails that are just blabbing about what's going on and how I'm feeling about it. Kind of like this blog, it's more about the writing and getting it out than it is about getting answers from any one, but somehow in the writing and her thoughts, I get insight into me and where I am and where I should or could be.

So I feel like if I get through this and can learn and grow, I'll come out of it a better person.

I just wish it was easier.

Less tiring.

Random Collection of Thoughts

1. I nearly exploded with happiness yesterday when I realized that the glorious sun that was shining in my window was happening at 5:30 pm! I LOVE LONGER DAYS!

2. I might have to head out of town for work for a couple of days so if I disappear that's all it is. Nothing sinister.

3. But then again I might not so you may end up just ignoring these two points.

4. I got some advice from JS this weekend that came at just the right time and was very much appreciated and that turned this weekend into a difficult and somewhat exhausting but necessary one. Thank you JS.

5. There's a rumour going around that it's the end of March, but I'm pretty sure that's a load of horse hooey. I'm not sure who started this rumour but it's a ridiculous one as it's so obviously just the start of the month. Pshaw!

6. Can anyone explain to me why some tv shows seem to randomly take a couple of weeks off for no reason?

7. C-Dawg and I appear to be writing a blog together. I love that she has a place to tell her story and I like that our friendship gets to be recorded because, damn, we have fun together.*

8. I don't really have anything much else to say but I feel like I should keep going until I have ten points.

9. I didn't eat very healthily yesterday. I think yesterday I had bacon, pancakes and chocolate.

10. Did I tell you I signed up for the 10K again this year? Forgive me if I've already told you, my brain's a little fritzy at the moment.

Later skaters!






* If you should feel so inclined, send me an email and I can throw you the link.

Wingmen

C-Dawg and I had an interesting conversation the other night where we both discovered we were both more used to being wingmen than whatever the opposite of wingman is. (Center of attention?)

We'd both gone through highschool and University with girlfriends who were hotter than us. My dear friend M was a tall, gorgeous blonde who'd literally turn heads when we walked in a room. I love her dearly because she never knew it and I'm still not sure she does. But when M and I would be out and about I was the friend next to her that was rarely noticed and I used to sit and laugh as drunken guys would fall over themselves trying to talk to her.

C-Dawg had a similar experience and we were talking about the fact that we're used to not being the pretty one or the one that gets all the attention.

So imagine our surprise when we were out the other night and the waitress brought us both a drink that had been bought for us by "that gentleman there at the bar."

We kind of looked at each other like "Us? Seriously?" because we were both used to someone ELSE getting the attention.

We each assumed the guy was interested in the other and it got us to talking. What happens when two girls who are used to being the less pretty one get together?

Neither of us are scene stealers or attention getters and I would guess if pressed, each of us would say we think the other one is prettier. (These thoughts can turn into habits you see.)

Personally, I think it makes things awesome.

We're both in the habit of being a wingman so we're each other's wingman at the same time!

Wait, that maybe only makes sense in my head.

Now, the fact that the gentleman who bought us drinks (for which we nodded a polite thank you) proceeded to stare at us for the next hour and a half (no I'm not kidding) turned fully around on his bar stool with his legs wide open in a way that would have seemed completely hilarious to you if you'd been there was a little awkward.

We'd been half watching the hockey game on the tv above his head and at one point my team missed and I kind of threw my hand up in despair and C-Dawg mumbled "you know it looks like you're waving right?" and I panicked and proceeded to do the hand throwing thing as if I was an Italian man discussing pasta and politics made it even more hilarious.

The fact that C-Dawg had driven us and wasn't going to have a second beer but didn't want to not drink it and seem rude and so therefore swapped it with a guy sitting at the next table who had an almost empty beer when the guy at the bar went to the bathroom made it nearly hysterical.

So here's what I say. . . wingmen may not get heads turned when they walk in a room, but I'm starting to think they have more fun.

Why?

This is as a sort of continuation of yesterday's post but I started, after the conversation with my mother, to ask myself why it is that I write a blog at all.

When I started, I felt like I was coming late to the blogging game.

I'd been reading blogs for a couple of years and really enjoyed it.

I enjoyed following along in people's lives. And once I got used to the idea, I enjoyed commenting on their posts and feeling like my comment was now a part of their story or their journey. And from there I started to make some friendships and really care about some people I'd come to know through this medium.

In the summer of 2006 I was having trouble sleeping and I found myself telling myself little stories in my head.

The more I heard them, the more they started sounding like blog posts and sometimes I'd tell myself a little quip and laugh out loud to myself in the dark and I thought, hmmm, maybe someone else would find that amusing too. Maybe I should start a blog.

So at the time it was the idea of sharing the thoughts that were making me laugh with "the world"; this nebulous thing I imagined.

I remember the feeling I got when I got my first comment. It was like the flush of feeling faint with a rush to the head and a panicked feeling of losing my privacy and feeling famous all at once.

From there, those funny little stories I heard in my head, I started thinking of other stories I could tell.

Things from my past that had happened and had a big impact on me in some way. Or random observations about my life or day or whatever.

I'd just sit there and tell a story and hit publish and move on.

I'm heading towards five years of writing this blog and I think the reasons I write now are sometimes different.

Sure, sometimes I just have a random observation about my life or a funny story to tell but I think if you asked me now why I write a blog it would be for more than just that.

In part, it's to keep me writing. I've always liked to write.

In part, it's to vent about my life and the things that go through my head with regards to my struggles and frustrations about being single. So it's sort of like therapy in that way. I get to talk about what used to just go around and around in my head and sometimes the talking about it helps me make sense of it or helps it feel better. Sometimes just airing something out makes it disappear.

But what's been an absolute blessing to me and something I never expected was the feeling of connection and of sometimes even helping that writing here gives me.

I write something here that's painful for me and I get people sending me hugs and telling me it'll be ok. And sometimes I sit and re-read a post and read the comments and I cry and cry and cry because it's life affirming that strangers who've never met me can be so kind and can pick me up.

And then I get the comments from people telling me that they understand because they feel the same way or that they're going through the same thing and that hearing what I wrote has helped them somehow and I feel like maybe writing a blog isn't self indulgent at all.

Because I never wanted it to be about me. I wanted it to be about people connecting to me; to something I said. And that that connection would somehow brighten their day or lift their spirits.

Whether that be through a laugh (because damn I used to have a lot of funny things to say) or through a feeling of "that's *exactly* what I feel" and knowing we're not alone.

It's the strangest and most amazing thing. When I sit down to write a post that's really coming from a place of hurt or upset, I'm never writing it with anyone else in mind. I'm not writing it thinking "gosh, I wonder if someone else will feel the same way." I'm just writing it to get it out and to say "fuck this hurts." It amazes me any time someone says "me too" and it somehow makes me feel better and less alone and that's an honour.

So why do I write a blog?

To tell my story.

To maybe, just maybe help someone feel a little bit better.

To write.

Because it helps me sort out my life and what I'm feeling and thinking.

Because you read it. And keep on reading it. Some of you for a long long time. (Thank you)

Because it feels right.

Blogging

Someone in my family started to write a blog recently and was very open about telling us about it.

I sat down with my Mom to look at the blog with her and guide her through the whole blog world a bit. My parents don't follow blogs and don't understand them or why someone would want to write one. Or, more to the point, why someone would want to read one.

My Mom said that she thinks writing a blog is rather self indulgent; like you're assuming your life is interesting enough that someone else would want to read it.

I said that yes, maybe that's how it is for some people but for the most part it's a way to share your life with other people and I think that people who read blogs have an understanding of why blogs are written.

I told her that I feel like when I'm reading a blog I'm reading an ongoing novel and that I'm catching up with a friend and that that somehow makes me a part of their life. That I get to root for people and it makes me feel like the world is bigger and at the same time smaller than it really is.

She was upset by a post she read on the family member's blog and I told her that people often wrote posts about tough times in their life and that she shouldn't take it as a sign that the person was depressed; just going through something difficult.

To show her what I meant, I brought up a page from this blog that I wrote when Dad got sick to show her that it can be an outlet for sadness.

I sat there as she read it and watched her get choked up and I was embarrassed. Embarrassed by my writing and the fact that she wouldn't think it's very good.

I have a hard time showing my creative side to the people closest to me because I fear their judgment. Sure, I can show my photos to people I don't know, but have me show them to a friend or a co-worker or a family member and I feel like a hack. Like my stuff is awful and doesn't deserve to be shared online with strangers. Who am I thinking I'm any good.

Same with my writing. I love having you guys read it and comment on it and I blush any time someone says I've written something well. And sometimes I even believe you.

But I don't want my friends, family, and co-workers to read what I write because then it feels like I have to find out that while I'm ok, I'm not really that good.

When I'm blogging here in obscurity I can pretend that the only reason someone hasn't snapped me up to write a book is that I just haven't been found yet. If people I knew were reading this blog? That's when I'd find out that while it may be amusing at times it's not much of anything and I'm not meant to ever make anything more out of this than a web based log of my life.

I do have a few friends who read the site and that keeps me honest about what I write, like a mental gate check... Hmmm...would I want B and S and buddy (hi Buddy!) and a couple of others to know/hear this? If so, then go ahead and write it. For them, it's kind of like a shorthand way to keep up to what's going on with my life. I'll often get an email from S after a post checking in with me. "Sounds like you're having a rough day, need to talk?" But at no point have any of them had anything to say about the quality of the writing and I don't really want to go there.

So it was an odd thing to realize: that I'm embarrassed by my blog writing if I feel like people I know in real life might be reading it. As long as I can pretend no one I know is reading it I'm fine.

Happier

A while ago, a commenter asked me what I thought about something and it's been mulling over in my head ever since. Here's what they asked:

Slightly philosophical relationship/dating question for you...

Where is the line between "being happy single" and "would be happier if in a relationship"? I know we're all supposed to love ourselves and learn to be happy alone, but isn't it ok to admit that at the end of the day we all want to be loved?

And here's what I answered:

That's a great question, and probably a whole blog post in itself, but I think my short answer would be that yes, it's totally ok and normal to want to be loved and in a relationship. I think the problem comes when people say "I'm miserable single and will only be happy in a relationship." I think that's the difference. I think it's totally ok to want to be in a happy, loving relationship.

I've been thinking and thinking about how I could further answer this because I do think it's a whole blog post/long answer, but all I keep coming back to is what I already said....

I don't feel like there's anything wrong with saying that you'd like to be in a relationship or that you think your life would be even better if you were in a relationship, I think the problem is when people say that they will ONLY be happy when they're finally in or back in a relationship.

Would I be happier in a relationship?

I think so.

But I also know that that would bring its own set of problems and that sometimes those problems can feel like the relationship is not worth it.

Do I sometimes feel terribly unhappy being single?

Absolutely.

But I also remind myself that I have no one to answer to and no one snoring in my bed keeping me awake when I'm having a restless night.

I think if your being or not being in a relationship defines you or how you see yourself or how you value yourself you need to take a look at that thinking.

Having a romantic partner to share your life with is wonderful and I wish everyone had a special, happy, uplifting romantic relationship.

I also wish that everyone was happy with themselves and loved themselves and was happy being single.

But I know those two wishes aren't always the reality.

So, where is the line between being happy single and would be happier in a relationship? I don't know if there is a line between those two things. I think they can hang out right next to each other.

I think most happy single people would say that being in a relationship would add to their happiness. So while it might not be the difference between happy and unhappy, it would add more happiness to their already happy life.

Does that make sense? Or am I way off base?

I think it's totally ok to admit that we all want to be loved and deserved to be loved and would like to share our love and our lives with another person.

We just need to remember that it doesn't make or break us.

Yes?

R is for Running

I can't believe I forgot about my alphabet posts* for so long!

I've had "R is for. . . ?" up on my sticky-note-of-post-ideas for a long time but it wasn't until last night that I noticed that it was next to the post idea "running update" and my brain went "Dur... doesn't. . . running start with. . . R?"

Ding ding ding we have a winner!

Ahem.

So, a running update.





Oh, y'all, I'm not loving it right now.

Part of that is that on clinic nights I don't have a friend to run with and I miss S being there. I loved knowing that she'd be there to chat with or not chat with when my breath ran out and that we could catch up on our lives and weeks and that I didn't have to make small talk because it was a friend.

So now on clinic nights I don't look forward to the run because I'm always wondering if I'll have to run with someone and talk to them, and I don't really want to talk to a stranger. Plus, when I run with someone I don't know, I feel obliged to run at their pace even though I don't know if we run at similar speeds so it's not... fun.

I'm also not feeling the same sense of accomplishment I did previously. This clinic is a repeat of the last one I did so I'm running distances and times I've already run. And while I'm sure I'm running them faster, it sure doesn't feel like it and as I said to someone the other day, every time I run it makes me feel unfit.

Sure, I love love love how I feel once I'm done running, but during it I'm not enjoying myself. At all.

I'm finding it harder to motivate myself to run on my own too, so I've lost a bit of the routine I had going which means that when I do run I'm not feeling as great which makes me feel like I'm unfit and the whole negative cycle thing starts again.

Maybe I've raised my mental standard too high. Like, when I started in September, EVERYTHING was a major accomplishment because I'd never run before. But now that I can't say I've *never* run before I don't feel like I'm accomplishing much, and that's not fun.

I'd hoped that C-Dawg and I would be able to run together now that she's moved back to town but her schedule doesn't allow it and we haven't managed to pull it off more than once or twice.

So it's a struggle right now and things in my body are hurting a bit and so I tell myself I'm doing the right thing by resting them, but then the next time I go out to run I feel like I've lost some fitness or haven't improved so it's more difficult and I don't know.

I guess I just have to keep forcing myself to do it and keep doing it and that some is better than none and that even running slowly for half an hour is still better than I ever thought I could do and is still better than what a lot of people are bothering to do.

I just wish it felt better.




*If you're looking for a way to fill time, you can search around for my "A is for, B is for, C is for, etc." posts. I seem to remember starting them when I needed something to write about when my brain went blank.

Oh, Sigh

Because I didn't know what to think about the guy I met, C-Dawg (bless her heart) suggested that I invite him out with us this weekend for a drink.

I didn't want to, but wouldn't you know it, after said drink it didn't seem like such a bad idea so I texted him and he came out to meet us.

And you guys? I wish I could find it as funny as C-Dawg does, but right now I'm still in the mystified what the bleep just happened stage.

So C-Dawg and I were sitting there chatting waiting for this guy to join us and for C-Dawg's date to arrive. Then my guy showed up with two friends. Like, a couple. Which, ok, that's fine and fair, I'm out with my friend it's ok for your friends to show up too. It was a little unexpected but that's ok, I can roll with it.

Except when C-Dawg and I started arranging seats so they could all sit with us, my guy said it would be too squishy so they left to sit somewhere else.

Not at the table next to us.

Fully somewhere else.

C-Dawg and I just looked at each other and she started laughing.

I think the phrase "What the hell?" was used more than once and we went on with our night, me shaking my head every two minutes.

About half an hour later, just as I was almost finished turning to her and going "Seriously?" he randomly walked up to our table and sat down.

When I heard C-Dawg say "Oh, here he is" I thought it was *her* date, but no. It was my guy.

Um, so, ok, allow me to try to make conversation with you even though I'm somewhere between pissed and confused.

Fortunately, C-Dawg's date showed up and I was able to chat with him instead of having to talk to my guy, who wasn't trying to talk to either C-Dawg or I.

In fact, when she tried to ask him some questions, she told me later, he avoided answering them all.

C thinks that it's a cultural difference.

"He's very typically English" she said.

I don't know what that means so I asked her, yesterday to describe it.

She and her ex spent a while in England while her ex was getting his degree and she said that they'd go out a lot with his friends and she found them all to be very lackadaisical with their dates and girlfriends.

To use her words they were "very, well, if you want to date me you have to come pay attention to me because I'll just be over here doing my own thing and putting no effort in."

I don't think you can describe a whole country of men in a single bound and I don't think the men she met while visiting England are necessarily typical. (Plus, in my fantasy land, all men with accents are extremely sexy gentlemen who woo women.) (I may be mistaken in this but I like to think I'm not.)

I'm sure the fellow was out of his comfort zone in some way or something because his behaviour felt very odd. Maybe it was a cultural thing because I've never experienced that sort of thing before.

In my books, if you're going to meet someone, be it romantically or friends, you go and you sit with them and talk with them and hang out with them and that's that.

So I don't think I'll be hanging out with that particular guy again although C-Dawg found the whole thing so funny she would like me to invite him out with us again next weekend.

I'm still too baffled for that I think.

The Meeting

So I've met a few guys through online dating sites now.

And, by a few I really mean maybe. . . five?

I'm guessing it must be getting easier, but it sure didn't feel like it yesterday.

I think maybe I was more nervous about meeting this guy because there were some things about him, on paper, that sort of match my mental checklist. His profession, where he's from, his sense of humour, that kind of thing. So going into the idea of meeting him I was maybe a touch more invested than with some of the other guys.

From what I could tell from his pictures, he was attractive but it was hard to tell for sure.

What I know from the people I've met, they never quite look like their picture and I'm usually just a little bit disappointed. Or, maybe disappointed isn't the right word, but there's usually the point where I meet them and my brain goes "huh, that's not quite what I'd expected." I mean, it's rare to find a photo that captures *exactly* what a person looks like. As a bit of an aside, I watched the episode of the terrible/wonderful tv show The Bachelor where some of the women had their photos taken for Sports Illustrated. When I saw the spread in the magazine the women looked nothing like how they looked on the tv show. It was bizarre. But it's something I need to remember if I'm continuing on in this online dating thing. People don't look like their photos. The degree to which they are different varies.

In an even further aside, when I saw Smith for the second time (the first time he flew out for a visit) he didn't look how I'd remembered him and I was just slightly disappointed. Apparently my mental image memory is.... fickle.

So, anyway, we'd agreed to meet in a slightly strange situation (he'd asked for some company going to get some test results as he was worried) and when I saw him coming down the street I wasn't sure it was him.

It was awkward, of course initially, and we went for coffee after his appointment and chatted.

He was good to talk with and I enjoyed our conversation, but, as in my other "meeting you" coffee "dates" I kind of petered out after a couple of hours and we went our separate ways.

I honestly, genuinely don't know what I think.

It's like my brain has backfired and I can't think about it. Some sort of system overload that I don't know what to do with.

One thing I said to C-Dawg was that he has, I think, the potential to be quite handsome. And that yes the conversation was fine and that yes, I'd meet with him again if he asked.

Do I want him to ask to hang out again? Yes. And no.

No in a panicked "oh please just let me be alone and single rather than go through this process that is so very uncomfortable to me" kind of way.

No, because I don't want to get to know someone.

No because I've never taken the time to date someone. And I don't know if I really want to.

No because I just want to magically fall into a relationship.

No because I want a relationship to just be. I want to wake up mid-way through an amazing courtship that I didn't have to struggle or worry about.

No because I want to meet someone the way I'm used to. For it to be easy. To not have to do this.

I don't want to do this.

I think the question is going to be, do I *not* want to do this enough to just be single for. . . ever?

Today, the answer is yes.

I don't know what the answer will be tomorrow.

So if you ask me how it went with this guy I met? I have to be honest and tell you I have no idea, because I feel like I'm battling such a bigger battle in my head and my heart and my soul that I can't even begin to process what I might think about him.

And I'm scared.

It's Not My Bag, Baby

I had a rough week last week. A really rough week.

And either because of it or just to go along with it my stomach wasn't happy. I loaded up on Gravol (it magically stopped the pain, hurray!) and made it through the week.

Why do I mention this?

Because when I made the decision to meet someone yesterday, my stomach got all mad again. Not quite *as* mad, mind you, but it was definitely grumpy.

So to be already nervous about meeting someone and to have your stomach get all grumpy on top of that is not exactly fun.

And, hey, if you don't sleep the night before because your mind is twisting itself into weirdness and you wake up in a foul mood with an upset stomach and nerves? YAY!

So, yeah. I had a date yesterday.

Or, a "date" because, really, for me this whole online dating thing is not so much dating as it is meeting a complete stranger for the first time.

I don't mean to be down and negative about it but I'm still a little Gravol-ed up at the moment and when my tummy's upset, I'm never the happiest of campers.

The meeting was fine and I'll talk more about it tomorrow, but I am now certain of one thing.

I do not enjoy the process of meeting new people.

I just don't.

I know some people thrive on it. I'm not one of those people and I'm going to have to accept that and work with it.

It's strange though because I love people. I love watching people and talking to people and I love my friends and I love learning about people and reading their stories but I do not like this whole process of meeting someone I've never met before in this sort of situation.

I got home yesterday after meeting this fellow and I sat down and thought about how I'd met my ex-boyfriends.

With all of them, I'd met them in some kind of informal, group situation before we chose to go on a date together.

Be it a party or at work or school or at a get together, I've always always met them in a group of people, felt a connection, chatted with them a bit and made a date to meet.

So this is completely new and foreign and utterly uncomfortable for me.

I'm alone, on the spot, one on one with someone I don't know and I'm not relaxed or at ease or in my zone, or, if I think about it some more, I'm not drinking either.

But, anyway. More on things tomorrow. I just had to put it out there and get it off my chest that I really do not like this way of meeting people.

To quote Mr Austin Powers: it's not my bag, baby.



P.S. As an added bonus, when I went to YouTube to try and find the Austin Powers quote, this is one of the videos that randomly showed up in my search. Who remembers this beauty? And who can resist dancing/singing along?

Blackstreet - No Diggity

Today

I think I'm going to meet someone after work today.

I mean, it's in the plans.

But. Well, I've given myself an out if I need it because otherwise I won't make it through the day with worry and nerves and that's just not ok. So I'm just telling myself that it's not going to happen.

So I'm maybe meeting someone I've been talking to a little bit online, but probably not and I'm definitely not talking about it here because if I talked about it here that would make it real and then I'd really really freak out so, hey, what's new with you? And what do you think of the time change? And is it weird to you that it's mid-way through the month already?

(Oh dear lord I think I'm going to throw up)

On My Mind

I try not to talk about big, heavy things here, but sometimes it's hard not to.

I'm not even sure I can find the right words, the right thoughts to say what it is I want to say or to express how it is I'm feeling.

It's always strange at these times to realize that life is going on here in my little corner of the world even as it's falling apart elsewhere. And that while my tiny tragedies may mean the world to me, some others are dealing with. . . well, devastation. And how do you recover from that?

I've made myself sick watching footage of the earthquake and tsunami and it's somehow that very footage that makes it more frightening but that also makes it seem unreal; like a movie gone bad.

Living in an earthquake zone, I like to talk myself into a sense of security. I tell myself that the big one will wait til I'm long gone but seeing this industrialized nation, a nation well aware of and prepared for the dangers of an earthquake has shaken me on a human level but for selfish reasons as well because I don't want to have to live through something like this in my lifetime and I'm saddened and scared that people are.

But I can't bring myself to a halt by taking in all the bad news, so I try to hold on to the good stories. Like the local families who have heard from their loved ones. Or like the friend of my good friend's mom who was visiting Japan and was on a flight that took off two minutes before the earthquake struck.

Two minutes.

There are wonderful, lucky, happy, hopeful stories out there and I need to find them and focus on them, because otherwise it's too easy to get overwhelmed by it all.

So while I try not to dwell on the heavy things here, I just wanted to stop for a moment today and send my love, support, prayers and hope towards Japan and the Japanese people.

Because they're on my mind. And in my heart.

Time Saver

Ok, so I figure instead of me going over the same ol' same ol' oh my goodness the time change is messing up my mind, I could just direct you to these posts.

Because it's too early in the week for it to have actually messed with my mind but according to this blog it always messes with my mind so I'm just going to go ahead and assume that it... might?

You Should Probably Sing This As You Read It

No post today, no post today

There really is no post today

You think you're reading but you're not

Your mind is tricked into the thought

That I wrote something when that's not true

But, still, happy weekend to you!

So even though I didn't write

I hope your day's full of delight

And don't forget that late tonight

You have to move your clocks up, right?

So, sorry for no post today

I really had little to say

And so now I will sneak away

And leave you la la laaaaaaaaaaa okay!

This Is What Happens In My Brain

Ok, it's been bothering me for a while now, so I'm turning to you for help.

How come zombies crave human flesh? I mean if it's to sustain them, then wouldn't they die after a certain amount of time without "eating"?

If they don't need to eat human flesh to stay, er, "alive" then why are they all crazy to eat us? Is it just to create more zombies? To procreate in their own way?

But then why do they eat humans instead of just biting them enough to infect them?

And if they just want more zombies, don't they realize that eventually there won't be any humans left to zombie-fy?

But now I'm just getting off into tangential questions.

What I really want to know is, if zombies are biting to spread the "virus" that's all well and good (except not really) but if we're saying they bite because they're hungry in some way then why don't they die off when they can't find humans to eat after a while?

Because how else am I supposed to survive if they never die?

Discovery

I think I probably shouldn't drive after running.

I think I could be charged with driving while impaired.

See, I'm super lucky in that I get a lovely glow after my running and whether it's caused by endorphins or epinephrine or serotonin, or dopamine or all of them hanging out and having a party because I've accomplished yet another run or what, but I always always feel good after.

Same thing happens for me after yoga most times, I find myself in this "I love the world and I love life and I just feel good" mode for an hour or two after.

Usually, I run from my house and back to my house but the other day I ran after work with a co-spy of mine and drove home after.

Now, I've never driven after running and I usually don't do much after a run other than stretch and shower and relax so it wasn't until the other day that I realized that my post-run happy also comes with a big dose of happy and relaxed.

Which, unfortunately, does not make for the safest of driving, apparently.

As in, I found myself waiting for the light so I could turn right and I'd forgotten to turn on my signal. Now, mind you I was in a right hand turn only lane, so it's not like I was a danger particularly, but I don't like to drive at less than my best and apparently running makes me, well, high.

Who knew, eh?

Long Week Much?

Whooo boy. Is it Wednesday? Only? Really?

Yikes.

(Are you sure?)

Answered

You may or may not remember, but a few weeks ago I talked about a nice guy at my run clinic.

I had wondered if he was single and if he was interested or if he was just a good guy to talk to while running.

And I wasn't sure how to go about finding out an answer to either of these questions.

I hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks and last week we ran in different groups but chatted a bit afterwards while we were stretching and gathering our things to head home.

He's still a nice guy and really fun to talk to.

Turns out he's also a decent guy because he managed to throw "my girlfriend" into our conversation. I've said it before and I'll say it again, good guys mention their girlfriends or wives early on. They let the women they're talking to know that they're not available and I appreciate it when they're man enough to do so. Anything else is always questionable.

So my questions are answered.

And that's fine too.

Better knowing and slightly disappointed than wondering and getting false hopes up.

Not single, not interested, just a good, friendly person to talk to.

The end.

To Make Me Better

Seems that my road has gone back to being bumpy again. Maybe that's the way this particular road I'm traveling on at the moment goes. Bumpy, smooth, bumpy, smooth. In need of repair. At least the smooth sections give me enough time to sort myself out before another bumpy section comes along.

It's been a cry at little things sort of end to the week and that spread into this weekend. Not that I had the same grumpies as last weekend or that my weekend was bad, exactly, just a lot of sad floating around the edges of everything.

But anyway.

C-Dawg and I went to a Sarah McLachlan concert last week and I spent a fair amount of time this weekend watching videos of the tour online. There were a few songs that got repeated plays and this one in particular I've listened to over and over the last two days.

I am amazed time and time again at how music has this magical ability to just be there when you need it. To just be. To speak for you and give words to your soul.

Music moves me. I hope this moves you too.


A Bitter Song - Butterfly Boucher

And, live:

A Bitter Song - Butterfly Boucher 1/2/11

Happy Sigh

Oh Saturday. . . .




Where have you been all my week?

Tip of the Tongue

I got my hair cut the other day and when my hairdresser was finished, she looked at my shortened bangs which she'd also straightened (she says she loves playing with my hair so I let her style it however she wants after she's cut it) and the perfectly cut line they made across my forehead.

You look like that character, she said, you know, from that movie.

I did know who she meant but I also couldn't think of the name.

There was a pause.... Pulp Fiction? I said.

Yes, she said, that's the one, you know, you look like, what's her name?

We were both nodding, but neither of us could find the name.

I could even do the little fingers across the eye dance, but couldn't come up with the name.

You know, it's an unusual name, she said.

My brain got stuck on Renee Zellweger for far too long and just as we were going to ask another stylist I remembered.

My bangs made me look like Uma Thurman.

It's funny how certain things are so iconic.

They don't look like that anymore by the way, but at least I have a possible idea for next Halloween if I need it.

I Love Funny People. And Smart People. And Silly People.

Way back forever ago, when I went through my "John Mayer and I should meet, fall in love and live happily ever after" moment (which I still would go for, you know, if he happens to be reading this and would like to meet, fall in love and live happily ever after) I followed the advice of a bunch of you and created a Tumblr blog for the sole purpose of then being able to ask him a question through Tumblr on his blog.

No, I never heard from him (I'm sure he gets a gazillion "questions" a day) but that's a long winded way of saying that I have a Tumblr blog and follow a few blogs on Tumblr. One of them put this clip up and I loved it so much I spent most of Saturday afternoon watching the rest of the "Fast and Loose" clips I could find on YouTube.



Funny Interpretive Dance - Don't Stop Me Now 

It's things like that that remind me how much I love people.

I hope you get a kick out of it too!

Guess What Happens At 5pm Now?

I meant to mention this a couple of weeks ago, but then things got busy and I got distracted and then I fell and so it got pushed back, but do you know what I've noticed and been noticing for a while?

These days? At 5pm? In the evening? IT HASN'T BEEN DARK! There's still light! It's no longer pitch black!

What a relief.

Now, if you could just pretend that this post came a couple of weeks ago, or at least before yesterday's post that'd be great. Kthxbye!

Happy Spring!

Oh, I know it's not official, and I know our weather recently has not agreed, but you guys? March, for me always means Spring. Spring!

And Spring means birdies and flowers and sunshine and green and warm air and Easter and somehow it just means happier, I don't know.

March also means that the long December-January-February stretch is over and the looooooong stretch since January 1st with no holidays or breaks is over and that things will soon be summery and it's not that I don't like Winter, Winter is great.

I'm just excited to be heading towards a new season.

So Happy First of March you guys. Here's looking forward to Spring!