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.”
Monday, January 25, 2010
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~
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.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
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.
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
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!
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
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.
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?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday, January 22, 2010
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!
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!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
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!
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
- Tell Me Why - Will Smith
- Look Ma, No Hands - Elton John
- Beauty - Shaye
- Closer - Nine Inch Nails
- Silver - Moist
- Glycerine - Bush
- Your Latest Trick - Dire Straits
- This Year's Love - David Gray
- Bella's Lullaby - Carter Burwell
- Used and Abused - Danger Radio
- Manifest Destiny - Guster
- Self Esteem - The Offspring
- Free - Faith Hill
- Hunter - Dido
- Call and Answer - Barenaked Ladies
- Patricia, the Stripper - Chris de Burgh
- Strange Disease - Prozzak
- Whyyawannabringmedown - Kelly Clarkson
- Beat Goes On - Madonna
- One Step at a Time - Jordin Sparkes
- I Got Nerve - Hannah Montana (yeah, that's what I said!)
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
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...
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...
Monday, January 18, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
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!**
@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.
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