My baby's gone

Today I gave away my very last (substantial) possession in the world, my car. When I bought it in 2007 I was making about $120,000/year more than I am making now (which is $0), I was living with Ian and renting my condo. That was the end of want, the year of have. That was the year I realized I would never have enough to make me happy so I started looking for something new to want. Life's better now. But, damn, I loved that car.

Self fulfilling prophecy?

It's the same old story. He tells me how awesome I am. He tells me how much I make him laugh. He tells me all kinds of good things about me. And then he gets to know me. And disappears. All the #FF love is gone now. And it's because I let him see inside. And I don't want him or anyone to see any more. I just don't want anyone to know.

Random Thought

I had what very well could be the best dream of my life last night. I don't dream good dreams. I dream ordinary, every day, kinda sitting on the couch watching TV dreams. I wish I could put what I dreamt last night into a movie. It would be good.

You know who you are

Dear You:

Thank you for being so kind and supportive. I know it might not seem like it but I really am okay, I have it together... it just gets stuck sometimes.

It is true: I have felt like an outsider my whole life and continue to feel that way most of the time but I have come to terms with it and, for the most part, I like it now. I like being different. I like that I will stay true to myself, even in the face of the pressure to do otherwise. I like that I won't say mean things just to go with the crowd. I like being strong in my convictions. I like it almost all of the time.

I know that, as I go forward with my life as I am right now, some of those old feelings of when I didn't like being different will come to the surface. Kind of like the whole microwave story: there were things that I believed to be true my whole life that I won't know are false until they start a fire. Apparently literally and figuratively. My initial experience with Twitter started it's own fire (did you know this is my second account?); the other day Tumbr did the same thing but to a lesser degree.

What I have learned from my time underground is that those bad feelings need to be dealt with right away. Until a few years ago, I kept them bottled up and they exploded to the surface in mass quantities. (Warning: clicking on that link will bring you to my old blog/journal from 2003-9... and it ain't pretty.) But exploding wasn't healthy for me or for anyone around me. Then, once I learned to stop the explosions and remain in control at all times, it turned out to be worse. My hair started falling out, I vomited almost daily, I even stopped having my period!

Now I know that when these bad feelings hit me, I need to say them out loud (okay, write them in my blog... same same) so I can look at them objectively and decide whether they are valid or just old scars that I forgot I had. That's what this blog/journal is about. I come here to say anything that I want to say. Then I can analyze it or kind of hear it with my new voice (hence, "The Friend Inside My Head" title). It's just me trying to purge the old bad stuff and move forward with the good stuff.

Does that make sense at all?

25 Things (from Tumblr)

1. My very first thought when I considered doing 25 things was that I don’t have 25 interesting things to say. Let’s see…
2. I drink more water than anyone I have ever known. Totally unrelated: I pee more than anyone I have ever known.
3. I keep my fingernails cut down to the quick at all times.
4. I have never farted in front of a man. (Except probably when I was a kid.) (And in my sleep.)
5. I was living with my ex for 6 months before he heard me burp. He liked it. I didn’t.
6. I kept my mother on an extremely high pedestal for the first 35 years of my life. Then one day I pushed her to the ground and made her climb back up. She did.
7. My little sister (who thinks I shouldn’t call her my “little sister” anymore because she’s 27) is my absolute favourite person in the world and the only person I would die for without hesitation.
8. I hate eating. If there was a way that I could survive without food, I’d be all over it like a fat kid on a Smartie.
9. I don’t like going to bed… er, I should say to sleep. I’ve already missed too much of my life, I don’t want to miss another minute.
10. Being thrown from a horse was the absolute best thing that has ever happened to me in my life.
11. I need to get a dog before I get a boyfriend. When I left my two ex’s, I also had to leave my dogs. Next time the dog is staying with me.
12. I declared 2005 the ‘International Year of Bev’ and changed my whole life.
13. I am embarrassed to tell you how many times I have seen Twilight. It’s a lot.
14. I miss being a work-aholic.
15. I have survived every car accident I have ever been in.
16. I see dead people. Then they close the casket and I can’t see them anymore.
17. I am obviously struggling with this now.
18. I love my car. It is the only thing I have left from the days when I had money. But the lease is up and I have to give it back on Saturday. Boo.
19. My favourite possession is a patch work quilt that my grandmother made in 1980. Now I only take it out when I am really sick because my grandmother’s hands aren’t strong enough to repair it anymore (I already wore it out twice).
20. I love music and will listen to anything anywhere anytime.
21. I like virtually every movie that I see. And if I don’t like it the first time, I will watch it again just in case my enjoyment was marred by outside influences the first time.
22. I can’t believe I thought of 21 things. Okay, 20. #17 was a cheat.
23. I can’t believe I thought of 22 things. Fuck off. This is my 25 Things.
24. I don’t regret. Anything. Ever. Any actions I take or words I say were based on the information and feelings I had at that moment. And I refuse to waste my time worrying about things I can’t change.
25. That being said, I do everything in my power to be true to myself and my beliefs, even if they go against everyone else.
26. I CANNOT believe that I am moving home!
27. I’m out of control and can’t stop at 25.
28. But I really don’t have anything left to say.
29. So I’ll just keep doing this for a while.
30. My brother is a dick.
31. That is all.
32. Good Day, sir.
32b. I said Good Day.

Come to the edge

Come to the edge, he said.
They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, he said.
They came.
He pushed them. And they flew.
~Guillaume Apollinaire~

Home

I grew up in a small, isolated mining town called Wabush, Labrador (near Quebec). When I lived there, the town could only be accessed by plane or train. The population was about 3,000.

We had one hotel, one grocery store, one bar, one restaurant. One bank, one department store, one convenience store. One school for everyone, from kindergarten to graduation.

We didn’t have strangers and we didn’t have crime. I only knew one kid who’s parents split up but they moved away soon after. Every single person in my town was white - with the exception of one black guy (the product of an extramarital affair).

My parents were happily married. Dad was a mechanic in the mine and Mom was the bank manager. I have an older sister and brother; our younger sister was born when I was 11.

We lived in a yellow bungalow with a white picket fence and a dog named Patches - I shit you not.

I had no idea how sheltered I was. When I moved away at the age of 18, the world slapped me in the face and told me to stop being such an idiot. ;-)

Intent

I wrote this for my Tumblr but I'm deleting it off of there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So someone wrote something extremely similar to something I wrote a long time ago and it ended up on the leaderboard.

All the way. Like top top leaderboard!

Was harm intended? I am reasonably certain she doesn’t even know I exist.

Did this person intentionally go through my old tweets and pick out one she liked because she wanted to steal from me? I highly doubt it.

I. Highly. Doubt. It.

Plagiarize –verb (used with object)

1. to take and use by plagiarism
2. to take and use ideas, passages, etc., from another’s work

To take and use. To TAKE. That would imply intent.

I commented on it because I thought it was cool. Something I once said is on the leaderboard. That means if I had more than 193 followers (which I do not) I might have gotten 90 stars in 7 hours (instead of 44 stars in two months) and would have probably ended up on the leaderboard, too.

I commented on it because plagiarism is basically the latest meme/scandal and I was making a joke! You know? Like on Twitter? Where we make jokes? All day long??

IT WAS A JOKE! NO HARM WAS DONE!!!!!

So, whatever, people! Chill out! You’re ruining my happy party!

Damn it!!!!!

Now I’m going to have to go get drunk and throw my body on top of the first man I see so I can celebrate. I might get pregnant with some stranger’s baby and end up homeless because… well, I’m already homeless. Or I might get a disease! Or I might… have an orgasm. Hmm… that migh- No, that’s not the point.

Look at all of this drama!

You couldn’t just let me have a little giggle?

Damn it.

Where’s my stupid wine glass? ;-)

(Just for clarification: this, too, is a joke. I kid. It’s what I do.)

Different

Have you ever felt different from everyone else you know?

Yes, I know, grand scheme of things... we are all different.

But different .

From everyone.

I have been told that I was different my whole life.

As a child, it was "special".

As a teenager, it was "wrong".

As an adult, it's "weird".

Most people think the ways I am different are good ways.

I'm different because I am who I am:

considerate of other people's thoughts and feelings,

an optimist who sees the grass on both sides of the fence,

enthusiastic about the future of the world.

But those years of self-discovery that I always talk about?

The first few years were me figuring out who I am,

The rest was me trying to be okay with being that person.

Normal people don't get excited about shovelling snow.

Normal people don't like every single type of music.

Normal people don't like that their parents have sex.

Normal people don't love with this intensity.

Normal people don't cry because they have so many people who love them but not a single person who "gets" them. And not a single person ever has.

Yeah, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm weird.

I even love me for it now.

I just don't believe that anyone else will ever feel the same.

Because, wherever I am,

there always has to be a side of me that stays hidden.

Stoned. Not stoned. Here's the difference.

I don't feel like I fit in with the rest of the world. I never have. I'm just not one way or another, I'm every way. I like the wrong things. I say the wrong things. I feel the wrong things.

After reading a post called "Enthusiasm" on Tumblr, I decided to finally post my ways I'm weird list. It was up for less than 5 minutes. I don't want people to know. They don't get it. I'm a freak.

I know this to be true whether I'm sober or stoned. The difference is: when I'm stoned, I don't care.

Good One!

This is a line in a story I am reading… it made me absolutely burst out laughing. I think I’ll have to use it when I’m trying to pick up men.

(I’d totally give the author credit but then you’d know something you don’t need to know!)

“Not that I needed to know his name to fuck him senseless, but when I came in his mouth, I wanted to know what name to call out.”

My musical journal: 'Eye in the Sky'

My musical journal: ‘Eye in the Sky’ by The Alan Parsons Project
~~~~~~~~~~~
For some reason I will never understand, I started babysitting when I was nine. The nine year old me thought it was awesome and grown up; the 38 year old me thinks that my parents and the parents of the children that I watched were freaking idiots.

Great form of birth control, though. Unbelievably effective. But I digress…

So, it was 1981 and I was nine. I was babysitting a little girl named Stephanie and looking for something to do after she’d gone to bed. I found The Alan Parsons Project album on the turn-table. Music was already an important part of my life and I’d listen to virtually anything to see if I liked it. I played this song over and over.
I thought it was a weird concept… eye in the sky, looking at me? I was hanging out in someone’s basement, pretending I was an adult and this was my hip single’s pad. No one was looking at me. I could do what ever the hell I wanted.

So I did.

While poking through one of the cupboards, I found a movie called “Last Tango in Paris.” There was naked people on the cover so I knew it would be really good. I’m not sure what it was rated but it was the closest thing to a porno I had seen up until that point.

I watched it. And rewound the dirty parts.

It fascinated me. The things they did. They way they did the things they did. I had no idea half of that was even possible. And they weren’t in love and married, they didn’t even know each other. They had sex the very first time they met. Didn’t even take all their clothes off, just started fucking right there. They even called it fucking.



I watched that movie the next time I came to babysit, too. And the next time. And the next. Probably not the time after that, though. Just kidding.

If I was in that house, that movie was in the VCR.

Little Dude

While out hunting Boxing Day bargains years ago, my then-boyfriend, Karl, and I fell in love with a border collie pup at the local pet store. We named him Screech, but I called him Little Dude.

Our new puppy fit in to our family unit immediately. He followed and observed our two older dogs and basically trained himself. When he got into mischief, all he had to do was tilt his head with that “ah, look how cute I am” expression and he could get away with anything. He gave our home new life - the dog had personality plus.

Screech was six months old the day he came running outside, went completely stiff and fell to the ground. We thought he was choking but couldn’t find an obstruction. The vet couldn’t figure out what was wrong but put him in an oxygen tank where he spent the night. The next day he was perfectly fine. Not the slightest hint that there had been any problem. It came on in an instant and ended in an instant. Totally inexplicable.

Three weeks later, Karl was downstairs with the dogs while I was upstairs in bed. I heard a sudden thump and then banging, then Karl yelling out to me. As soon as I saw him, I knew. Screech was having a seizure. We brought him back to the clinic where they tried oxygen therapy again. This time, however, the prognosis wasn’t quite as good. Screech had epilepsy.

Our vet agreed to work with us to find a way to control the epilepsy. Dr. Strick told us that most people would euthanise in this situation and I think he respected us for not giving up right away. Karl proclaimed that as long as Screech had spirit, we had to try to save him.

And so it began. Treatment. We started with canine medications. Then moved on to human epilepsy drugs. We tried experimental drugs, combinations of drugs, anything. We even brought him to an acupuncturist. Everything worked for just a little while; just long enough to give us hope.

Eventually the seizures were out of control. I used Valium to relax his muscles; at the onset of a seizure, I lifted his tail and poked the drugs into the poor little fella’s butt. I slept on an air mattress downstairs so that, if he had a seizure during the night, I’d be there to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. His muscles would get quite weak so I held up his back end as he sniffed around outside for a spot to do his business. I fed him by hand. Gave him water that way, too. I was with him every possible moment.

Karl and I were fighting, then barely speaking at all. I was getting in deeper and deeper but he was becoming more and more detached. In the early days, his unwillingness to give up the fight for our little guy made my love for him grow. At this point, however, I realized that Karl’s love was for Karl. It didn’t matter what was best for the dog, for me, for our family. Karl was willing to let everyone else hurt so he wouldn’t have to.

The lack of sleep, the worry and stress brought me to the end of my rope. My frustration overwhelmed me until I couldn’t take it anymore. The day I lost my temper and started yelling at Screech for an accident that he couldn’t control, I melted into a puddle of tears. Tears of fear for my puppy’s life. Tears of pity for myself. Tears of sadness for what our lives had become. I’d had enough.

The next day I told Karl we were at the end, I wouldn’t watch Screech die anymore. It was hard to see him suffer when I had hope that he would get through it; when that hope was gone, watching him deteriorate became unbearable. The seizures were coming non-stop, he was drugged to the edge of consciousness. It was time. No, it was far past time. Karl still fought against it but he was now alone in his fight; the vet and I wouldn’t support him anymore.

On the floor of the clinic, I held my little dude in my arms as the last breath left his body. That moment left a hole in my chest that I thought would be there forever. But eventually it healed, and made room for my heart to grow even bigger.

I learned a lot from that dog, from that period of my life. I learned that I was strong and able to handle a lot more than I realized. I learned that I would rather be alone than spend my life with someone I couldn’t depend on to put aside his own needs when the situation required it. And I learned that my love knew no limits and I would fight to do what is right for the ones I love, even if it meant letting them go.

Standards

I hate it when people turn away from me because they claim that they “can’t live up to my standards.”

I have standards for me.

I don’t have standards for you.

That’s your job. And not my problem.

I had a friend, Stacey, who I used to talk to for hours. We bonded. She was having a rough time with this dickhead she was screwing. And she was a single mother to a teenage son who was starting to get into trouble. I tried to not push my ideas and ideals on to her. I just wanted to be supportive, to be there for her when she needed to talk. No pressure, no expectations.

Eventually I opened up and told her my secrets, too. I didn’t tell the intimate details of my life to anyone back then but I told her.

And one day she just stopped coming by. Stopped calling. Stopped answering my calls.

I think things got really tough for her. She got into some shit that she knew I wouldn’t approve of. But, so what? Just because I wouldn’t do something doesn’t mean that I would look down on her for doing it. It didn’t mean that I would care about her less.

We all carve our own paths. We have different thoughts, different experiences, we are different people. We get into different situations and we handle them in different ways.

Perhaps I’m still bitter. Perhaps I never really ended it with Stacey. I always wondered what I said wrong, what I did, what made her dump me. Perhaps I need closure.

Perhaps that’s why I’m writing this.

She made me feel used. Unimportant. Irrelevant.

She hurt me by not respecting me enough to understand that I cared about her, not about the things she did.

But the thing is, I don’t think she respected herself.

And maybe that’s why she couldn’t handle respect from me.

Stoned me

I don't like getting stoned any more. I checked again. Just to make sure.

But being stoned is exactly why I don't like being stoned anymore.

* Wow! Way to argue a point.

Okay, I really enjoyed getting stoned. My boyfriend after high school got stoned all the time but I would have no part of it. I mean, to each his own, but I was pretty high and mighty miss do right back then.

So the day I went for a drive with him and his buddies - and he was smoking a joint while he was driving - I almost killed him. I knew they really had nowhere to go and that's why they drove so I told him that I would drive and they could get as stoned as they want. Win. Win.

I only tried it once with him. We were parked in his driveway - directly in front of his living room window, where his parents sat watching TV. And, if they were anything like my parents, also watching us.

Then we went inside and sat with them. Looking back, I'm sure he just liked to play with me to see what I'd do. (I do like to entertain people by letting them know what a loser I am.) But at the time? Holy shit. Par.A.Noia. Dude.

And then you start giggling. It's fun. Too fun. I didn't like it at all.

I mostly half smoked it every time I was in a puff,puff,pass situation after that. I was just like Bill Clinton and I didn't inhale. Except I really didn't.

It wasn't until I dated Ian in 2001 that I began smoking it periodically. When Ian and I got back together in 2006, I began smoking it daily. And didn't stop for more than three years. It was good. It helped because...

*Jesus Christ, woman. Long winded much? You didn't even fucking answer the question, you butt head! You crack me up!

Oh. What was the question?

* Well, it wasn't a question but that's not important right now. Being stoned is why you don't like being stoned.

I think I kind of just answered it. I think too much. It's insane. It's irritating. My brother HATED me when I was stoned. Then again, my sister hated me when I wasn't. *giggle*

When I'm not stoned, I just live. Yes, I still question myself sometimes. Maybe even a lot compared to people like Stacey. But I like that.

When I am stoned? Just shut the fuck up. Or, as my daddy used to say, "You got enough lip for another row of teeth."

Not meant in a mean way. Just a fact. Just shut up and go do something. Seriously.

* Yeah, I'm pretty hungry. A snack would be nice.

Don't quit quitting

I started smoking the summer I was 10. I was hanging around with a girl who was 4 years older than me and damn, she was cool. So I became cool, too. A rebel. A grown up, mature, really cool rebel.

For many years I didn’t consider it an addiction. I liked smoking. I wanted to smoke. Back in the days that I only had enough money to buy lunch or a pack of cigarettes, I would skip that meal without question.

I’m not sure how or why I changed my mind - I’m certain some non-smoking boy was involved - but at some point I realized I wasn’t so cool anymore. I won’t go into all of the times and all of the ways I tried to quit. Let me just say that I tried. And I failed. And I tried. And I failed.

I used to joke about how easy it was to quit smoking. I was exceptional at it - I had successfully quit smoking almost every Monday for years. Not starting again two days later that was the part I couldn’t master.

Actually, I did have periodic success. Sometimes it lasted weeks, sometimes months. But even then, if asked, I would say that I was a smoker who wasn’t currently smoking.

Then, in the fall of 2005, I knew - without a doubt - that I would never smoke again for the rest of my life.
I read a book called “The Easy Way to Quit Smoking.” No, I began reading the book. I was less than halfway through when I stopped reading and stopped smoking. One passage in this book changed my life.

This is what the author was saying leading up to that paragraph (I’m paraphrasing because I gave the book to a friend): If you consider the addiction a monster inside you, every time you smoke a cigarette, you are feeding the monster. Keeping him satisfied. Then he gets hungry again, so you feed him again. Over and over, the same thing is happening. Feed the monster, feed the craving, feed the need.

However. If you stop feeding him? He will die. It will hurt, you will feel as if a part of you is dying - and a part of you is dying. But it is the part of you that you want gone.

Eventually - I GUARANTEE YOU - eventually, he will be gone completely. You will think of him from time to time, you will miss him from time to time but he will be gone. As soon as you smoke one cigarette, he will be back. And you will have to start the whole process again.

Now, this is what he said that made the most sense to me: If one cigarette will bring that monster back, that’s the only cigarette you have to avoid.

I don’t think about never being able to smoke again, I don’t look at every cigarette in the world as something that will tempt me and undermine my will power. I am avoiding one cigarette. The first one. And that? I can do.

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

If you’re trying to quit smoking right now, I highly recommend the book. “The Easy Way to Quit Smoking” has helped me, my brother, my BFF and my ex-boyfriend become non-smokers for life. Each of us said that there was one particular passage that spoke to us. And it was a different passage for each of us.

It is not magic. I also gave the book to a couple of people who did not quit. And, of course, I know lots of people who quit in other ways. You just have to find the way that works for you. It will still be a struggle, it will still be a challenge, but that monster will die if you let him. And when he is gone, you’ll know that you can do anything you set your mind to. And if you don’t get rid of him this time, trust that you will kill him eventually.

You only fail when you stop trying.

So DON’T QUIT QUITTING!

The process of progress

Confidence
JUL07-78 / JAN08-86 / MAR08-88 / MAY08-92 /
JUL08-94 / FEB09-94 / JAN10-92 / MAY12-90 

Openness (to new experiences)
JUL07- 6 / JAN08-8 / MAR08-4 / MAY08-44 /
JUL08-42 / FEB09-66 / JAN10-56 / MAY12-36 

Extroversion
JUL07-94 / JAN08-94 / MAR08-88 / MAY08-80 /
JUL08-78 / FEB09-94 / JAN10-80 / MAY12-82 

Empathy
JUL07-4 / JAN08-32 / MAR08-10 / MAY08-36 /
JUL08-54 / FEB08-34 / JAN10-6 / MAY12-22 

Trust in Others
JUL07-56 / JAN08-58 / MAR08-48 / MAY08-92 /
JUL08-60 / FEB09-94 / JAN10-92 / MAY12-86 

Agency (belief that you determine outcomes, not god or fate)
JUL07-88 / JAN08-76 / MAR08-76 / MAY08-58 /
JUL08-82 / FEB09-62 / JAN10-80 / MAY12-46 

Masculinity
JUL07-66 / JAN08-56 / MAR08-52 / MAY08-30 /
JUL08-72 / FEB09-44 / JAN10-62 / MAY12-36 

Femininity
JUL07-6 / JAN08-14 / MAR08-22 / MAY08-48 /
JUL08-24 / FEB09-54 / JAN10-38 / MAY12-66 

Spontaneity
JUL07-48 / JAN08-36 / MAR08-64 / MAY08-80 /
JUL08-76 / FEB09-84 / JAN10-90 / MAY12-82 

Attention to Style
JUL07-58 / JAN08-82 / MAR08-92 / MAY08-82 /
JUL08-86 / FEB09-80 / JAN10-88 / MAY12-78 

Authoritarianism (adherence to social order)
JUL07-88 / JAN08-64 / MAR08-44 / MAY08-40 /
JUL08-36 / FEB09-16 / JAN10-4 / MAY12-40 

Earthy/Imaginative
JUL07-100 / JAN08-96 / MAR08-98 / MAY08-92 /
JUL08-88 / FEB09-86 / JAN10-70 / MAY12-66 

Aesthetic/Functional
JUL07-94 / JAN08-22 / MAR08-34 / MAY08-46 /
JUL08-4 / FEB09-54 / JAN10-56 / MAY12-38

Personal DNA

Way, way back, when I started all of this life transformation crap, I took a personality test. Actually, the results of the personality test were a big part of the reason that the life transformation crap took place. I didn't like what it said about me; I especially didn't like that it was right. Anyway, I periodically go back and redo the test. At first it was like a kind of report card of my progress, now it's just for entertainment. I think I've mostly evened out anyway but some of my results now are dramatically different from the first time.

So I did the test again today (you might have seen that coming). Here are the results:

personalDNA
You are an Animated Director.


about you
You are a Director
• As a DIRECTOR, you combine an unusual openness and passion for beauty and style with confidence and a down-to-earth sensibility that allow you to realize your vision.
• You are practical and pay attention to the details that others tend to miss.
• By focusing on what is real and concrete, you achieve more than those who always have their heads in the clouds.
• When it comes to what really matters in your life, you are confident in your ability to succeed.
• Having beautiful things in your life gives you pleasure and satisfaction - you have a keen eye for style.
• Even when problems present themselves, deep down you know you will overcome these challenges.
• When routines get too familiar, you become bored and start looking for ways to spice things up.
• You are open to new types of experiences – you are not afraid to take a risk on something new.
• You have a highly developed sense of taste – you know what looks good on you, in your home, and in the world at large.
• Your independent streak allows you to make decisions efficiently and to trust your instincts
• You tend to do things on the spur of the moment, not sticking to a set schedule.
• You have a strong sense of style and value your personal presentation - friends may even seek your style advice from time to time.
• Generally, you believe that you control your life, and that external forces only play a limited role in determining what happens to you.
If you want to be different:
• Occasionally let yourself dream a little more, even if it doesn't seem practical or efficient.

how you relate to others
You are Animated
• You are outgoing, comfortable with others, and up for anything, which makes you ANIMATED.
• Some people find crowds and parties exhausting, but not you! You are able to be yourself in many situations.
• Sometimes it is hard for you to understand why others feel the way they do, but that doesn't stop you from trusting them or having faith that they are good people.
• You know the world is complicated and that there is often more than one side to a story, so you are careful not to make judgments about others too hastily.
• You would rather experience the world than sit back and observe it—you are not one to sit on the sidelines.
• You are an independent thinker and don't get too worried about how others might perceive you—you are not self-conscious about being the active, engaged person that you are.
• Although you have a keen understanding of different people's life circumstances, you occasionally have trouble seeing why people get so upset and emotional about things—they should just lighten up and have fun!
• In addition to having faith in the world, you have faith in the people around you—you trust others to do the right thing and to be honest.
If you want to be different:
• Remember that time alone can be just as fulfilling as time spent with others—take some time for yourself and you might find that there are many things in your inner world that are just as compelling as the world outside your window.
• Your open-mindedness about the ways of world gives you an understanding of people's differences, but that knowledge doesn't always translate into sympathy. Don't be afraid to let your trust and understanding influence your feelings.

My musical journal: ‘Lump’

My musical journal: ‘Lump’ by The Presidents of the United States of America

When my sister was 15 and came to visit me in BC, my then-boyfriend nicknamed her Lump. He even had a Christmas ornament personalized with “Lump” made for her. The first time I heard this song, I almost died laughing… it’s exactly what he meant.

I’m going to have it played to her at her wedding in June. Because she’s still a Lump. (Smart girl, blonde roots, ifyouknowwhatImean.) And because embarrassing their little sisters is just what good big sisters do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lump sat alone
In a boggy marsh
Totally motionless
Except for her heart
Mud flowed up into Lump’s pajamas
She totally confused
All the passing piranhas
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lump lingered last in line for brains
And the one she got
Was sort of rotten and insane
Small thing so sad
That birds could land
Is Lump fast asleep
Or rocking out with the band?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horoscope, Interpreted

October 23 - November 21

Your mind is in a period of great activity, and your curiosity about the world around you is practically insatiable. You're interested in anything and everything. You want to be able to understand everything from the simplest to the most complicated. Nothing could get in the way of your thirst for knowledge. So get a good supply of books about the things you would like to learn about and try and meet some new people.

 

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

Does that mean I can't read Twilight again? 

Just once more? Once more after this time, right? 

Nope, changed my mind... I was born in March.

My musical journal: ‘Control’

My musical journal: ‘Control’ by Puddle of Mudd

I was 30. I had just left a five year relationship with a man 14 years my senior. He put the ‘un’ in fun. In a big bad way. But now I was free and ready to celebrate. My neighbour invited me to a party one Friday night. I brought his 18 year old brother-in-law home with me - my own personal party favour. He was beyond hot! Nipple rings. Six pack. Cougar snack. Yummy. This song was playing while we had crazy drunken sex on my couch.

Man, I owned the fucking world that night!

Slacker

A few years ago I was a completely different person than I am today.

I owned a bookkeeping and management company and worked 70-80 hours per week. My day started at 5am, I worked through lunch, I went home after dark. I had no social life other than renting a movie on Saturday night with my BFF and a rare lunch when a friend made me feel guilty about not being a friend back. I had several vibrators and a fuck buddy that I called upon when necessity demanded it.

My home was always neat and tidy. I wasn’t much for dusting but everything was always in it’s place. Everything. Always. If I moved a coaster, I put it back where it came from when I was finished with it. I made my bed as soon as I rolled out of it. Clothes were in the hamper and washed in timely manner. Dishes were in the dishwasher, never in the sink and never ever left on the counter (oh, the  horror!).

My hair was cut and coloured every eight weeks. Facials at least four times a year. My brows were professionally waxed and coloured once a month. I bought a new wardrobe every season and gave the old one to charity. I completely redecorated my home three times in five years. I did not own a car for more than two years.

I had to do everything right all the time. It wasn’t a question. I didn’t stop and think about it, I just did it. I was a perfect human being living a perfect life. This was the me I promised myself I would become in my youth. This was the perfect version of me.

And I was miserable.

Flash forward to the present, I look back on that person and laugh so hard I could cry. Or cry so hard I could laugh. I don’t even know her now.

I have worked about five months in the past two years - I’m not really sure because I don’t really care. I sold my condo and cashed in all of my investments last year to pay off my credit cards so I could live off of them for a while longer. I would be in debt to my eyeballs if I was about two feet taller.

There are clothes piled on my bed, on the floor, in the hamper, next to the hamper, even on the chair I’m sitting on. The bed hasn’t been made yet this year. My nightstand door has been left open for at least a week; laptop, books, magazines and the cell charger sit on the floor next to it. Papers, notebooks, pens, earrings, candies, DVDs, and ponytail rings are strewn all over my desk. There are boxes and storage bins lined against the walls, waiting to be packed and put away.

And I am at peace.

Not because of these things. Being a slacker didn’t make everything in my life better… finding a way to get off the ledge I was standing on did. But we’ll save that story for another day.

Reasons I'm looking forward to moving home

It's been 14 years since I left home. Actually, at this time 14 years ago, I had yet to seriously consider moving to BC - it was in May that I first thought of going and I was there three weeks later. And in all of this time I have seriously considered moving home once or twice, only to find the answer in a resounding HELL NO!

And here I am. Oddly excited. Maybe because I am confident that I can actually live with these people again. Even though the thought of living with my two foster brothers is somewhat disconcerting, as is the fact that it might be years before I get to have another really good nude day, overall I think this is a good thing.

So, here you go...

Top 10 Reasons I'm Looking Forward to Moving Home (in no particular order):

1. I get to spend time with my dad... whatever time he has left, I will be there

2. I get to help my mom stay sane... relatively, of course... I doubt I can reverse the damage that's already been done

3. I get to live my life for someone other than myself for the first time in a very very long time

4. I don't have to worry about cooking or groceries or any of that girl stuff. I'll still do it to help out, but it won't be my responsibility - thanks, Mumsie!

5. I will spend lots of time with my wonderful grandmother, whom I neglect far, far too much

6. I am going to take piano lessons! And join basketball or baseball or some other sport that I have always dreamt of yet been too afraid to get involved in

7. My dad has one of those systems where you can convert records and cassettes into MP3s and I'm going to download all my folks' records onto my iPod! (so excited!!)

8. I might, might, might be able to get some semblance of control over this financial mess I've made during the past two years of "finding myself"... a.k.a. unemployment

9. I will get to go to my nephew, Aaron's bar shows with his new band Polina. I will get to go to my other nephew, Brandon's musical in February, and his high school graduation. I will get to spend time with them and they better not ignore their elderly Aunt Beverly

10. It will be new and I love new: new surroundings, new job, new friends, new challenges, new life! I love that my future is completely unknown... I don't know how long I'll be there, I don't know what I will do when -or even if- I leave... I find that extremely exciting!

Songs that make me...

Songs that make me laugh:

• I Can't Decide - The Scissor Sisters
• Lump - The Presidents of the United States of America
• Comfort Eagle - Cake

Songs that make me cry:

• Tell Me Why - Will Smith
• Look Ma, No Hands - Elton John
• Beauty - Shaye

Songs that turn me on:

• Closer - Nine Inch Nails
• Silver - Moist
• Glycerine - Bush

Songs that I can't listen to with my eyes open:

• Your Latest Trick - Dire Straits
• This Year's Love - David Gray
• Bella's Lullaby - Carter Burwell

Songs that I'm pretty sure were written about me:

• Used and Abused - Danger Radio
• Manifest Destiny - Guster
• Self Esteem - The Offspring

Songs that should have been written by me:

• Free - Faith Hill
• Hunter - Dido
• Call and Answer - Barenaked Ladies

Songs that make me get up. And get down:

• Patricia, the Stripper - Chris de Burgh
• Strange Disease - Prozzak
• Whyyawannabringmedown - Kelly Clarkson

Songs that inspire me:

• Beat Goes On - Madonna
• One Step at a Time - Jordin Sparkes
• I Got Nerve - Hannah Montana (yeah, that's what I said!)
  

When funny isn't funny

The first "dead hooker" joke I saw on Twitter made me laugh my ass off. I can't find it now but it was by @iamnotdiddy and went something like "son, help Daddy put the dead hooker in the trunk. Again." Okay, I totally ruined it but at the time I thought it was a work of art, comedicly speaking.

Since then I have read a million other dead hooker jokes... some funny, some not so funny and some that I am certain offended dead hookers all over the world.

But we all have a different idea of what we consider funny (I'm reminded of this every time I tell a joke a no one laughs - that is totally rare, though...totally rare..) and I think the best part of life is finding people who laugh at the same things as you and laughing together.

For most people, humour is about pushing the envelope and eliciting a reaction from others. And dead hooker jokes definitely fit the bill. But there is such a thing as too far. Here's why: because people are stupid.

A group of not-so-stupid buddies can have a few beers and a great laugh tossing back and forth the dead hooker gems. Each joke feeds off the last, getting a little more crass and a whole lot more funny. There is nothing wrong with that... chances are no one will leave the group and go out and kill a hooker for new material.

The problem is, when it's on Twitter, it isn't a private conversation. And not everyone gets the joke.

I'm not talking about uptight bitches and the like. As far as I'm concerned, if they don't think it's funny, they shouldn't read it. Simple. No one has the right to judge you on the things you say based on the things they believe. It's called freedom of speach, amirite?

However, there may be something we forget to consider when we say not everyone *gets* the joke. There's a very real possibility that some of the people who don't get the joke aren't offended by it... they are inspired by it. What we don't consider is that there might be a guy sitting at home in front of his computer who is stupid. And he's taking notes.

One of your followers might be a guy who thinks you are saying that murder is acceptable. Or that everyone wants these hookers punished. It might be someone who is looking for attention or a way to deal with the voices in his head. It might be someone who wants to take the joke to the next level, because it's so funny. And your tweet might tell him that is okay.

Obviously, there was murder long before Twitter was invented and there will be many more after Twitter is gone. Also, I'm not saying that you should be responsible for the actions of people you don't even know. All I ask is that, the next time you are about to post another dead hooker joke, ask yourself if this particular joke is crossing a line. Consider how you would feel if you knew that tweet led to a child losing his mother or a parent losing a child or a human being losing her life. And then judge yourself.

Okay, enough serious. So, a dead hooker walks into a bar. The bartender says...

Martin Luther King Day

“Cowardice asks the question, ‘Is it safe?’ Expediency asks the question, ‘Is it politic?’ Vanity asks the question, ‘Is it popular?’ But, conscience asks the question, ‘Is it right?’ And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but one must take it because one’s conscience tells one that it is right.”

—	Martin Luther King, Jr

No, pal, YOU'RE weird!

I have no idea why I decided to make a list of the ways that I don't fit in with the rest of the world. Ha. Probably because I'm weird.

Here it is:
~ I like shovelling, I like to clean, I like working - generally, I guess I find a way to like the things that I have to do... it makes life so much more bearable
~ I always thought it was kinda cool that my parents had sex (I'm not saying I want to watch, I just like knowing that old people have sex because I want to have sex when I'm old!)
~ I was pulling in a 6-figure salary when I decided to quit and "go find myself"... two years later I find myself beyond broke, homeless and never happier
~ I like practically every movie I've ever watched. And, if I don't like a movie the first time I see it, I watch it again
~ I will listen to any type of music. From my nephew's grunge band's demo to Classic Rock to Opera to Punk to Country to Top 40 to Rap to Jazz to Easy listening to Dance to Alternative to Folk to Classical to Metal... it's on my iPod
~ I hear rhythm in everything - walking up the stairs, the washing machine, rain beating on the window, etc - yet I don't play an instrument
~ I don't regret. Ever. I don't believe in it. I make my decisions based on the information at hand at that particular moment and that's the best I can do... and the best I can do is the best I can do
~ I love people - in general. Especially old people and teenagers. Every acquaintance is a study in human nature. And human nature is so amazingly entertaining.
~ I love my life and I refuse to apologize for that. Sorry.

I'm making a choice

I found out a few days ago that my father’s cancer treatment is not working. They have stopped it because it is harming him more than healing him. They gave him 18 months to live 13 months ago. He has been in hospital twice since. It is very possible that my father will die very soon.

But I also found out that there is a new drug that they might be able to give him that could possibly work, except they have to do a very risky procedure - and take him off his heart medications - to see if he even qualifies for it.

So, what are my choices? I can sit here and cry because his cancer is growing or because he might die during that risky procedure. I can cry because there is a very definite possibility that they won’t approve this drug for him.

Or I can sit here with hope in my heart that he will qualify for this new drug and it will prolong his life. I am going to open myself to the possibility that he will be able to walk my sister down the aisle when she gets married in June. I will dream that he might someday meet his unborn grandchildren, that they might get to know him.

I have believed that my father, whom I love dearly, could die any minute for over a year but now there is a possibility - however slight - that he won’t. There is now hope where there was none before.
So, I’m going to look for the good and be grateful for every breath left in his body… because that is the only choice for me.

Happiness. Is. A. Choice.

Don’t doubt it for a second.

This stuff warms my frickin' heart

I know you're not supposed to make DMs public. Kind of an honour thing. I hope he doesn't mind but this blog is kinda my diary, you know?

@MaDom To be honest, I'm normaly not a kiss-ass. But you do it for me. =)


**so sweet!**

Delusions of grandeur

The world is out to get me today. I'm pretty sure. Preeeeeeeeety sure. It started out okay but it's on a roll now. The count so far is Karma ~ 15, Me ~ 6 (fucking cat ~ 1). I'm way behind, dude. It's only 4pm and it's just starting to gain momentum. I ain't moving from this spot for the rest of the day.

Is it hot in here?

I started a fire today.

Yep. Started a fire. In my sister's house.

My first fire ever. Another cherry popped.

My Wendy's was cold and I put it in the microwave. Like anyone would. It was in the bag, hello. Perfectly safe.

One spark, two spark, mutherfukin fire!

I admit, I have not spent a minute of my life wondering "how do microwaves work?" They just do, man. They. Just. Do. (Dude, give me a break! I literally learned how electricity works two years ago.)

Aren't some waves or something supposed to reflect the metallic... of th... wrappe...well, it doesn't really make sense when you actually think about it. It doesn't smell like it makes sense, anyway.

Isn't it funny how you think something works when you're a kid - but you're wrong, because you're a kid - and it just never comes up again. Although I'm sure my mother didn't understand any better than I did. Just don't put in the gold trimmed plates or tin foil... no, I don't know why, just don't. And don't make a mess!

Firefighter Extraordinaire, I threw open the microwave door. That made the flames grow. Shit. I closed the door. Grabbed my water glass. Opened the door. Threw water at it. Slammed the door. Refill glass. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

It was barely a fire... just the bag burned. The smoke was the worst part. The worst part after thinking I was going to burn my sister's house down, I mean.

Smoke all you want, Wendy's bag. Don't throw a spark onto the curtains or the mat and start a real fire and don't set off a smoke detector or alarm (Why don't they have a smoke detector??) but go ahead and smoke. I'm in total agreement. I think I'll go smoke something, too.

To be honest, it was kind of exciting! I know, I'm weird. You aren't exactly making a new discovery there, Captain Obvious. I just like a challenge. Did the house burn down? No. I passed. Thank you. Where is my medal?

Random Thought

My soap box is so high today, I'm afraid to get off.

Why I followed you back

Okay, you might not have noticed this about me but I think the shit out of everything. I have a reason for every single thing I do and a reason for every single thing I don't do. Do you wonder why I did/didn't follow you back? There is a reason. Trust me.

I'm not on Twitter to get a million followers. I'm not going to lie and say that wouldn't be awesome but it's not my primary motivation. Actually, I laugh and/or roll my eyes every time I see someone post a "dear new followers" bullshit tweet. Dear new followers. I am better than you. It's very important that you should know this and accept your lower station in life. Pftt. Pu-leeze.

More like Dear people who choose to have my shit part of their twitter sewage stream. Get a plunger. *tee hee* That was a little harsh, I agree. But... I don't know... we're all... people, aren't we? Equal in the eyes of our master, Twitter? Ah, but I digress.

I do not have a follow every follower rule. I know that some people do and that's totally cool ~ to each their own. We might just be here for different reasons. I don't tend to like people just because they like me. And I don't expect people to like me just because I like them. Like me for me, baby. On Twitter and in life.

What am I looking for when I click that Follow button? Many different things. What's your reply to tweet ratio? Do I laugh at your tweets? Do your replies make me feel that you are someone I would want to hear more of? Do you sound needy and bitter? Are you reasonably clean - but not too clean - and reasonably positive - but not too positive? Do you tweet a gazillion times a day... or enough to block most everyone else from my stream? And, of course, did you follow/unfollow me more than once?

If you are following me and a few days later you are at the top of my followers list again and a few days after that you are at the top of my followers list again? Chances are slim that I will ever follow you back, my friend. Are you trying to get my attention? Did you think I didn't notice you the last three times? Everyone feels a little twinge when they lose a follower... and you think that I will let you give me that twinge over and over and then follow you back to make you like me? You are obviously trying to increase your numbers but I'm here to feel good and to try to make others feel good. I cannot reward you for making me feel bad. Yeah, you know who you are.

And the absolutely most important consideration when I decide to follow someone? Did you comment/reply/star any of my tweets? Did you stand up and say hey, you're funny or hey, I don't agree? Because, when someone chooses to communicate with me, all of that other stuff just won't matter as much.

Believe it or not, as cold and callous as you might think me to be, I do follow some people just because I don't want to hurt their feelings. There are a few people that I followed because they seemed promising but, to be honest, kind of irritate me now. However, I have communicated with them and will remain what they call "loyal". Like I said, I'm not here to make people feel bad. Although I really find it funny when I am doing the loyal shtick only to find out that they no longer follow me. And that happens all the time - to all of us.

Human interaction can get so complicated, so downright silly. This is not personal - we are 140 characters and an avatar to each other. Will my feelings get hurt if I think I've connected with someone only to have them unfollow me? Absolutely. Without a doubt. But I'm not going to dwell on it - what good would that do? I'll be disappointed for a few minutes - probably even have a passing thought about confronting them to find out why - and then I'll realize that it doesn't matter. I'll read the next person's tweet. I'll laugh. And I'll move on.

It's simple. I follow people who I want to be a part of my stream. And I want to be in the stream of people who want to laugh with me. I can't be honest in the things I say if I am constantly editing to try to please everyone.

My advice to you and to me? Laugh or unfollow. We're cool.

Control

I control my actions because I cannot control the actions of others.

I control the words I speak because I cannot control the words of others.

I control the level of responsibility I take for myself.

Responsibility to be the best person I can be.

Responsibility to live the best life I can live.

Responsibility to be true to myself, even when that means going against everyone else.

I control me because I cannot control you. 

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

Sorry, I'm always like this when I'm stoned.

I preach it when I'm stoned, I live it when I'm not.

My friends and family are very grateful that I left my main source for the gaunja. Not sure why. ;-)

Last Christmas gift doobie, BTW. I must remember to not give him my forwarding address when I move.

Random Thought

Penis.

The choices we make

Oh, how easy it is to look for the bad in people and deeds. Why do we accept the bad without looking for the good?

We have soul mates and lovers and crushes and colleagues and acquaintances and parents/siblings. No two relationships are the same. Sometimes relationships might cross more than one type; sometimes they evolve from one to the other. But we all like different people different amounts for different reasons and in different ways. There's nothing wrong with that. That's how it should be because that's how it is.

Let's take dating for an example. Have you ever dated someone that liked you more than you liked them? Yes. Have you ever dated someone that you liked more than they liked you? Of course you have.

Have you ever dated someone that liked you more and you didn't *dislike* them but they just weren't your kind of people? Not for any bad reason in particular but just because it didn't feel right or you didn't click? It's natural - it's life!

So, why, when someone unfollows you on Twitter, do you take it so personally? Yes, you can look at it as an insult. You can be offended. You can assume that someone is trying to hurt you. But, nine times out of ten, it's none of those things. Perhaps they didn't realize you cared. Maybe you liked them a little more than they liked you. There is nothing wrong with that.

You *must* like some of your Twitter friends more than others. You HAVE to. You can't possibly follow 600 people and like each and every one of them equally. Heck, you probably don't even like me very much right now.

And I am perfectly okay with that. Because I don't take it personally if you have different opinions than I have. I don't think I'm better than you and I don't think I'm worse than you. I'm simply different than you. And different doesn't have to mean wrong.

Quite frankly, and I'm sure this will offend you, it doesn't really matter what you think of me. I don't know you and you don't know me. We know nothing of each other than a few daily tweets-worth. I don't know how or where you grew up or how you feel about the death penalty or love or the colour of the sky. You are in my daily twitter stream with hundreds of people, as I am in yours. I'd really like for us to be friends but if we're not, I'll be friends with someone else. And I will be happy either way.

Because I choose to be happy.

Let me tell you a little something about me to illustrate my point further: I found out less than an hour ago that my father's cancer treatment is not working. They have stopped it because it is harming him more than healing him. They gave him 18 months to live 13 months ago. He has been in hospital twice since. It is very possible that my father will die very soon.

But I also found out that there is a new drug that they might be able to give him that could possibly work, except they have to do a very risky procedure on him first. This new drug could help him live for 5 years, 10 years - no one knows.

So, how would you advise me to react? I can sit here and cry because one drug isn't working or because he might die during that risky procedure.

Or I can sit here with hope in my heart that this new drug will prolong his life and my father might get to see his my sister get married in June and meet his grandchildren who have yet to be born. And they might get to know him!

I have believed that my father, whom I love dearly, will be dead in *months* for over a year but now there is a possibility that he won't be. How exciting is that????

So, I'm going to look for the good because that's the only choice to me.

I honestly mean no offence to you, and I take no offence. If you unfollow me because you don't like my perspective on Twitter followers and unfollowers, I wish you well and hope that you find people that you do like. Because that's what I will do.

Happiness. Is. A. Choice.

Don't doubt it for a second.

A wager with me

Okay, I'm watching Lost Season 5 on DVD ~ and loving it!!! ~ and I think... I think I know the answer. What the story is about. I just want to write it down here to record it to see if I'm right or wrong at the end of the series. Just for fun. Just out of curiosity. So, like, spoiler alert, everybody... I guess. Eek! (*so exciting!*)

It's a game.

I'll let that sink in for a minute.


It's a game.

It's a game. ????Could it be????? You know how crazy real video games have gotten. Kind of like Halo and the Sims with crazy super awesome graphics.

Same concept, different storyline. Role playing. I'm sure there's a proper title for it somewhere. You control your avatar, the game throws different choices/actions/scenarios at you and you choose which way you will go.

Well, what if the producers of Lost made a television show about a fucking video game that a bunch of people are playing. Omigod. I'm right. I'm pretty sure. Maybe. It just seems so obvious. I guess I should say obvious in that I can't imaging what else it could be.

If it's something else I will say "no way, why didn't I think of that?" or "fuck you assholes for not being able to come up with an original plot line but it was fun while it lasted" but I think it's a game.

And the story is shown to us piece by piece or in reverse. And the game throws in scenarios and a few characters to guide the plot (but the players don't know what/who they are). A.K.A. Richard? Jacob? The hatch? The freighter? Can't you picture Charles Witmore as the game's protagonist? O.M.G.

Watch it. Think about it. It explains everything. The plane, how the others knew all of those details about the passengers, how they got supplies, the polar bear, the black smoke, characters coming and going, plot lines changing. IT EXPLAINS EVERY THING!!! 

I think I might possibly be the smartest person ever in the history of the world. Or I might be totally wrong.

Cool.

And...

...I'm pretty sure I'm going to smoke that last doobie.

De ja vu? I feel like I've been here before somehow...

But... but... my ship?

See, at this moment, I want to eat every piece of food in this house. I want to go to the grocery store and eat everything there. I want to eat out McDonald's and Wendy's and some bum on the corner. Okay, that's gross but... but... fuck...

My ship

Oh, how sick am I of talking/thinking/blogging about my weight? And how sick are you of hearing about it?

I have been alive for 13,954 days and I'm sure I have thought I was a big fat slob for about 13,947 of them - at least. That's kinda sad. But realizing that, comprehending that and hating that hasn't changed it.

Something hit me the other day - and I'm not going to say that this time is sure to be different because I have said that far too often only to crash and burn - and I just want to get it out here so I can look at it and remember it.

My brother called me 4 1/2 years ago and told me that I had to buy this book that he'd found called "The Easy Way to Quit Smoking". He was beside himself with the exciting insights that it had provided him and he wanted to share it. I was already quit for a couple of weeks at the time but I was faltering so I gave it a shot; and, less than half way through the book, I knew that I would never smoke again in my life. I smoked for over 20 years - starting at the age of 10 - and had quit over and over and over but one passage in this book changed everything.

My brother preached and preached the lessons he learned from this book. He told every smoker he knew about it. It was so easy! If you read this, you will quit... he guaranteed it! You know who didn't quit? My brother.

I know it frustrated him to no end and he hated himself for it but he just couldn't kick the habit. He even went so far as to fly half way across the country to attend a seminar by the author. When that didn't work, he tried hypnotism. And he just couldn't stop.

As an outsider looking in, I always thought that his biggest problem was his belief that it was going to be easy. I think that, to him, finding out that it's easy to quit meant that at some point it will just happen without effort, without pain. He didn't even have to try. It's just so easy.

But he didn't accept the fact that it would be relatively easy. He couldn't understand that he still had to try, that it would still hurt to give up something that had been with him for 20 years. These things don't just go away. Finding the strength to get through the hard times doesn't mean there isn't going to be hard times.

And the other day I realized that I've been doing pretty much the same thing with my weight. My whole life I knew that I wasn't fat because I ate too much, that there was something wrong inside me that caused my weight problem so much more than simply loving the taste of junk food. I knew - I KNEW - that if I could just figure out what was wrong that the weight would simply drop off.

I have literally spent years figuring out what was wrong inside me. Now I love myself in a way that I never thought possible, I am at peace in my soul, I am happier and less stressed than I have ever been; I am also, at this very moment, heavier than I have ever been.

I think it's because I thought it was supposed to be easy. If the weight problem was brought on by internal factors, it should go away as soon as those factors were no longer present. Simple logic, right? Well, I still believe that.

But I also think that I didn't accept the fact that it would still hurt. I minimized the importance of the habits that I would have to change. Habits that have been with me since my mother started putting me on diets in my infancy.

There has to be some pain. There has to be some sacrifice. There has to be lifestyle changes and different choices. I eat all that I want because I know that someday all of the weight will fall off. Then I revert to beating myself up about being fat. Then I give in to my every whim again. Same cycle. Over and over.

I think it's time to try again. To really try for a change... and to try to not have someone else take responsibility for it. It's been a while since I've done that.

So, I have quit being fat. I quit smoking successfully, it's time for me to quit being fat successfully. Did someone say challenge? Bring it the fuck on, baby! Did someone say donut? Uh... no, thanks...

Horoscope, Interpreted

Scorpio

October 23 - November 21

It seems your ship is about to come in, Scorpio. At least, the planets seem to think so. Your years of cultivating business relationships will pay off in the form of increased sales or new business opportunities. It seems this success spills over into your personal life as well. Life on the home front has never been more serene. You are the conductor of this melodious symphony that is your life. Congratulations!

 

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

OKAY!!!!!

Random Thought

I really, really want a dog.
Like, really, really bad.
Or maybe not.
We'll see.

Fuckin Twitter again

Kriminey pickles, I love Twitter. It's love and lust. Like, I want to rip Twitter's clothes off and kiss every inch of it from head to toe. I want to get down on my knees and... er, sorry. My fingers said Twitter but my imagination said Rob Pattinson. Ahem. Where was I? Oh, right... pickles...

As you and I both know, because we are both me, I have not participated in #FollowFriday on Twitter since I changed to my @Bevikins account.

As @Befralee, Fridays became almost like high school for me. Hoping I'd get asked out. Not getting asked out. Trying too hard. Not trying at all. Up. Down. Tearing me apart bitchfest from hell. Er... I mean Twitter kinda ruined Fridays for me.

It was all seven days of the week that made me leave but, coming back with my tail between my legs, I wanted to do it different. Continuous improvements. It's who I am.

So, I decided instead that I would give shout outs when inspired to do so, and on any day of the week. When I started @Bevikins I decided that I would not do #FollowFriday because not being #FF'ed or "asked out" just hurt my feelings and I didn't want to do that to anyone else.

I realize now that I didn't account for how awesome it feels to be "asked out". I forgot how special it makes you feel to be the person that someone picked out of a crowd because they think you're special.

I forgot that there is always someone out there who thinks more of you than you realize. It's a scientific fact. I'm pretty sure.

So I'm going to start giving an #FF mention to one or two people that really drove up my smile count during the given week. Because making them feel good makes me feel good.

Yep.

Random Thought

I wish my dad was a part of my generation. I would love to share Twitter with him.

Queen Shit of Funny Mountain

I'm developing a big Twitter-crush on this guy:

http://thefriendinsidemyhead.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is-message-i-got-on-twitter-today.html

We actually have the same birthday - day and year - which is really weird/cool. And he's always flirty and funny. He's king shit of funny mountain. And so cute.

He posted this picture the other day:

I don't know why I'm telling you all this. He's just cute and makes me giggle. It's silly. Oh, yes, I do know why I'm telling you all this. It's because the proof is in the pudding... mmm, pudding. Er, I mean, it's because it is insight. Insight about what look for in a man.

I want a guy who calls me, but not right away. I want a guy who is charming but not over bearing. I want a guy who is funny and silly. I want a guy who makes me feel good. I want that click, that spark and I want to giggle and be charmed.

Serious tweet

I love that. "Serious tweet". I can just imagine some of the shit being shot on that little hashtag. Anyway!

With the birth of a new decade, the most interesting/scary/funny question has been asked. Over and over. And over. Where were you 10 years ago?

And I hear: What did you learn? What did you not have then that you cherish now? Don't think of what you've lost but of what you've gained.

10 years ago? I was still living with Karl. I was 28, he was 42. I was so immature. And he was such a dick.

We got Screecher on Boxing Day, a little border collie we found when we were shopping the Boxing Day sales. He wasn't sick yet. He started having seizures at 6 months and died just after a year. That dog pushed me to my limit. I loved him and I did more for him than I ever thought I could or would do for anything or anybody.

That was a big changing time for me. And all of that stuff with Screech taught me who Karl really was. In the early days it made me love and respect Karl more; in the later days it made me hate him. I learned that he would never "be there" for me in my hours of need, he couldn't go the distance for me and I couldn't for him. I could be nice or I could be a bitch, I could be fat or thin, smoke or not smoke and it would not matter. I guess I didn't see it that way then but that's the value of hindsight, isn't it?

What have I gained from that lesson? That I am strong enough. That I can do it. That I don't need to be afraid. That I don't need to be someone else. That I can do anything I want to do. That I can make myself do anything. That just because I can doesn't mean I have to. That it's okay to be me. That I'm okay.  And that someday someone will be there for me... I just needed to learn to let him. It turned out to be a 10 year lesson, apparently. No one expected that... least of all me!

And here I am... entering this new decade as someone else. Actually, no... I don't think I've ever been more me.

Fuckin Twitter again

I think I learned a very valuable lesson from Twitter.

Some people just don't get me. Boys. Some boys get me like crazy and some boys just don't.

It's kind of about someone realizing when I'm serious and when I'm kidding. Because when I said "I'm totally gonna tweet my whole sex life if I ever get one! It'll be positions, girth, dirty talk, video, all of it" to some guy just now, I think he thought I was serious. And that's just not funny. Or maybe it is? I wonder if he thinks it is? Should I ask him? Do you think he'll love me forever? What's his name? For the monagrammed sheets.

The reply

Dear Daughter,

You do not ever have to ask to come home. Dad has been expecting this ever since you started your life changes. You have to realize that it will not always be smooth sailing. We still have David and Calvin, each with their own issues and off course we have ours also. Actually your father sees it as a little bit of freedom for us. He hates to go for a weekend and leave the boys here, so you may find yourself babysitting "adults".

Only the other day I heard an advertisement on the radio for a senior's complex and thought about you and said to myself, good job for Bev, but she will never be back here to live.

Well, you are welcome to come home at any time. Eventually, you will find a job and get your own place, but you will be around. Even if you have a man, I always feel that I can depend on you. Not pointing any fingers, but you are not a person for excuses.

AND I GOTTA TELL YA- that Wii Fit certainly sweetens it all. That was a gift I wanted for Christmas. You will probably have to join Curves with Mom and me???

Anyway, Honey, let us know what you decide. Will you drive home? Want me to come up and do the trip wih you ? Always looking for an excuse to leave home!!! What about your storage "stuff"? When will all this happen???

 Talk SOON! Love you always

 

Your Momma

The letter

Dear My Parents:

Christmas is almost over but I have one more gift for you. I haven't given it to you yet because I haven't been entirely sure how to wrap it. And, to a large degree, it's more a gift to myself than a gift to you.

I want to come home. To live.

As overwhelming as it is for me to say that, I think I always knew that I would. I think I've been working toward it for some time. Every time someone has asked me about my future plans during the past year, my answer has been "I don't know". I knew that everything I did was for a reason - selling my condo, slowly breaking my ties with BC, finally realizing how much I wanted my family to be a part of my life again - but I honestly didn't have the final answer. I just followed where my instincts were leading me and trusted that I would figure out the answer when it was time.

Well, it's time. And the answer is home.

I want to spend time with my dad. I want to be there to support my mom. I want to shovel when it snows, and go to doctor's appointments, and run errands that you don't want to do. I want to share in your lives; the good and the bad.

Just think!! I can start arguments so you'll have a distraction! I can make a mess so you'll have something to clean up! I can hold Dad's hair back when chemo makes him sick!!! Sorry. You know I can't help myself. I just want to be there for you guys in whatever ways I can.

This is not a whim. This is a very important life decision and I haven't made it lightly. But all of the things that I have to do right now - find a job, a car, new friends, a fella - I can do anywhere. It's time for me to start living again. And I want to do it there.

I want to be with my family. Because I love you.

So, what do you say?

Can I come home now?

Think about it. Discuss it. And let me know what you think.

P.S. There is a gift receipt attached and you can exchange this for something better if you want. There is no obligation. But I would like to point out that I do have a Wii game system and I did recently purchase Wii Fit - just to sweeten the pot a little!

Why

Why can't I just say my dad is going to die this year and I want to spend some time with him before that happens?

Why can't I just say that, while my dad has my mom to lean on, my mom has no one and I want to be there for her?

Why can't I just say that I want to come home and shovel the snow and finish the floors and break up the arguments?

Why can't I just tell them that I love them and I want to be there for them?

Why can't I just understand that they'll never understand why I am the way I am and let it go?

Why can't I just do what I want without all of this other crap getting in the way?

Mom, Dad, I love you and I want to come home and support you during this difficult time. I'm not just doing this for you, I'm doing it for me, too. It's what I want, it's what I've been building up to for a long time. I'm ready now. And I really want to do this. Waddaya say?

Best seller!

It's as if I'm writing a book about my life. I know how I want it to end but I don't know how I will get there. And I don't know what each new chapter will bring. But I get to choose what happens next. Best fuckin' seller, baby.

How da smoke done me wrong

I'm never smoking pot again!!!! Relatively speaking, of course. Let's not be hasty here.

But I think it just altered my whole life course tonight and it's freaking me out!

Fuck. Move home? Omigod, seriously? To Newfoundland? Live with my parents? Seriously, me? Do I not like me? And I think what's bothering me most is that I know it feels right... it feels like a continuation of the path I was already on. Fuck.

How did I not see this coming? I basically told Debra long before I knew. Brandon, too, actually. Everything just lined up so perfectly. It's just so obvious now. I didn't settle here at all. I didn't change an address or look for a job or get my insurance switched. Fuckin' full circle, bitches?

Stacey was saying "why not? Go!"
Fuck.
Yeah, I could see myself living there.
Fuck.
I can see it.

* But there's still no jobs. No jobs a year ago, no jobs now. And the pay. Ick.

* It's not about the money. I wouldn't need the money. This is more important than money. This is me. Being true to me. I can be good being me.

* Would it break you? Could they break you? The wise cracks. The blaming. The tsk-huhhhh shit that they do. You know, the sigh of exasperation that you have to give whenever someone asks you to do something. The "I am going out of my way for you right now and you are going to know it" sigh of pain and discomfort.

I grew up thinking that -

* Whatever. That was then, this is now. So they behave like asses? It doesn't mean you have to. You know that. And, if you can't handle it in the house, you move down the street or five minutes away or an hour away. You need this time with your father.

*Honestly, I don't think I would regret not going back. You know, I think Mom was the one who took that off my shoulders, even though I think she wanted me there.

And what if they don't want me there? I am rather irritating. I get on their...

* Omifuckingod. That's just the way they are. I point it out sometimes because I want them to see what they are saying but that's just the way they are. Tsk-huhhhh is just the way they are.

* Okay, maybe they would want me around. Can I live with "the way they are"? Yes. Yes, I think I could. I'm sure it would get exasperating sometimes but it's not like I would be stuck there. I would get a job and friends and a boyfriend and a life. I COULD GET A DOG!!!

I could get a dog.

* See? Who can argue with that? Now stop thinking/eating/getting fat all the time and smarten up. *smack up back of the head*  (see how I slipped that in there? Huh? I'm pretty smooth.)

* That doesn't mean I'm decided. I have to see it. I actually can't not see it any more. That's the problem.

And, fuck off. *grins*

* But it wouldn't be like before. It couldn't be like before. I'm not like before.

I will still do the things that I do. Living at home would probably encourage me to get out more. Wow, I can't imagine living with a support system like that again. Just being here with Debra has been amazing.

* And that's the biggest problem right now. Leave my little sister?

Yeah, I could come back some day. But what are the chances that I would? Especially if I started a relationship and started fostering...

* Honestly, I think she might be doing better without me right now. I don't want to tell her what to do or influence her life unless she is asking for my advice. She has to make her mistakes and decisions right now. It would be different to live with Mom and Dad, they are settled. Debra and Andrew are just starting out. I want to be there for her if she needs me but as an outside observer. It was good to see her this way and to spend this time with her but I think she will be better off without me in that way. I keep telling her that about Stacey, though. Perhaps stick to the Mom and Dad are the one's who need me right now. They are. And the cat isn't in the cradle. I will not do onto others as they do to me. And I just need to be with them right now, too.