Letters

I am sad today. But I don't really want to talk about that yet.

I am not really in the Christmas spirt. But I don't really want to talk about that either.

Moving on ...

I received a letter in the mail yesterday. Totally unexpected, I think the last actual letter I have opened was way back in my camp days. My friends and I often send little cards filled with warm fuzzies and sometimes notes about how Asthmatic Sheep are Evil. But an actual letter is almost unheard of. And a letter from my brother is even more shocking. But never the less there it was.

My brother is currently in New Orleans. You could ask me what he is doing and I could probably tell you with almost certainty that he is working as a project manager for a non-profit organization that is helping with the rebuilding of the city. And that I think it has something to do with needing volunteer experience to get into an MBA program. And that he has an apartment near the French Quarter and that I am planning on visiting in February for Mardi Gras. But before he went to New Orleans he was in Cincinnati working on the Obama campaign in general and encouraging people to come out and vote in specific. Reading his letter last night a)made me homesick and b)made me realize that while I might not understand entirely where all of this is coming from, I am very very proud of him.

He writes: "... it was rewarding to see the people laugh, smile and cry after having cast their ballot in this historic election. I witnessed people brave rain, cold and hour long lines, to have their voices heard. This was democracy in action and the communal cry was that a new type of action is needed - more and more people are realizing that their responsibility extends further than one vote every 4 years... His (Obama's) campaign became a political movement of people longing to fill the 40 year void without a cause as noble as the right to vote ... One afternoon I took off from the campaign ... to head out in search of something I materially "needed" only to be reminded ... that life is all about the journey ..."

So I am reminded. Life is all about the journey. There may be days when I will stumble. There may be days when I need to keep running when I would rather stand still. There may be days when many miles are covered in seemingly effortless steps. What matters is what I learn with each step, the good I take from each day, and the knowledge that one day I will get where I am going and all of the hardships and moments of celebration will be a part of that story.

Whispers

I think about writing all the time. When I am running, when I am swimming, when I am lifting weights. When I am cooking, when I am eating. When I am driving, when I am walking. Every waking moment, and some sleeping ones too, I am thinking about writing. I am running words and phrases through my head. I am trying to feel how the sentence will look on the page, how the syllables will sound, how the pictures will be formed.

And yet my pen (in all honesty my keyboard) is silent.

There have been so many moments this past year that I have longed to share.

I have lost many things, many people, over the course of 2008, and I have wanted to use language to make those losses tangible, to explain what and how and why I have lost.

I have gained many things, many people, over the course of 2008 and I have wanted to use language to celebrate those joys, to echo my laughter, to explain what and how and why I have loved.

But every time I have sat at this computer I have been filled with self doubt and self pity and self loathing and I have stopped myself. I have been scared of who might be reading and who might not be reading. I have been unsure of what I wanted to share, of what would be better kept private, of what might be misunderstood.

I have let my voice be silent.

Birthdays

I've always had a bit of a hard time with my birthday. It's not so much the getting older thing, although some years (25 in particular) that has been an issue.

I think in some ways my birthday has always made me feel like an inconvenience. I was born at the worst possible time for my school teaching mother and although she went out of her way to make sure I had a party etc I always felt like I was adding to her workload. I was one more thing that had to be taken care of before the end of June. I think now that those feelings are more to do with me and my insecurities but they are my feelings none the less.

In Jr High & High school there were always exams on my birthday and more often than not I have been sick as a dog and miserable. I feel awkward when people make a big deal out of it but then a little bit disappointed when others don't. I associate my birthday with feeling strange about the passage of time, unsure of who I am/where I am/where I want to be/where I am actually going.

My most memorable birthday was the year I turned 23. I was in Ireland with Beth & Mel and we spent the day exploring Tara, getting caught in a sudden rainstorm, playing catch up on a pubcrawl and downing 2 litres of cider in what felt like 2.5 seconds, getting approximately 40 minutes of sleep before catching a plane back to Stanstead. I made out with a boy whose name I did not get, who may or may not have spoken English. Definitely my most rockstar birthday ever.

I was expecting yesterday to come and go and not be anything out of the ordinary. And in a lot of ways that is exactly what happened. I got up, went to work, talked to my parents, got a lot of birthday wishes on facebook, had icecream with Becca, had flowers delivered to the office, came home, had a nap, supper and gluten free cake with B and then drinks and dancing with some Calgary friends. But in the midst of the ordinary birthday celebrations something small and extraordinary happened. I felt really and truly happy.

I feel like the past year has been a lot of ups and downs. Some really amazing things happened - Niki's wedding, my trip to Mexico, buying my condo - but for the most part I feel like I spent the year slowly but surely closing doors. There were hard moments, there were bad moments, but mostly there were a lot of bittersweet this really sucks but I have to do it anyways moments. And yesterday, for the first time since that night of toboggoning with Sarah, I feel like I have a wide open future in front of me. The past is still there, and definitely not entirely dealt with, but it is no longer an insurmountable obstacle blocking my way forward. I am not entirely sure what that means exactly but I can't help thinking it is a good thing.

Fantasy vs Reality

I haven't been able to tell B why I am ... I am not even sure if I can articulate exactly what I am feeling ... why I am scared? nervous? stressed? ... about our high school reunion.

I can tell her parts of what is going on in my head, that I am worried about being judged - on who I am now, on who I was back then. That I feel pressure to look my best and think of interesting things to say and put on a worthy performance. Which is crazy because, for the most part, the people I care about from high school are people I see and they know and love me for who I am and all those other people don't really matter in the grand scheme of things. And yet, in some ways, I am hell bent on impressing them and I am in a head space where I am not even impressing myself so it seems like a mission destined for failure.

I think it is June that does it to me. My birthday is a reminder that I am not where I said I would be when I got here. And even though I am happy - I love my job, I love my condo, I am making new friends and enjoying time with old - I still want those things I have always wanted, that seem at times like I will never be good enough to get. I wonder why I don't have them, what I did wrong, what I am doing wrong. I wonder if I will ever be able to accept myself as I am and be appreciative of what I have instead of condemning myself for what I don't.

Our reunion is a week away and it is another reminder that I am not where I thought I would be.

But the real story, the one I haven't been able to talk to B about, is that all through my teens I swore that at my high school reunion I would prove a point. I would show all those people who were mean to me in jr high because my mom didn't give them the grade they thought they deserved or my mom was strict with them or because I was smart or whatever other logic jr high meanness has behind it, that I was someone. I would be stunningly beautiful and married to someone who obviously adored me and we would have beautiful children and in my spare time I would have done something wildly successful and ... Of course there was one boy in particular that this was directed at, a boy who I was crazy in love with in the way that only 12 year old girls can be crazy in love. A boy who tormented me and rocked my self esteem to its very core. A boy who would be fat and ugly and gross at our reunion and who would beg for a moment of my attention and I would stare haughtily down at him and walk away. A boy who is not currently fat or ugly or gross. Which is kind of fitting since I am none of the things I swore I would be either. And even though it doesn't matter anymore, it is still a reminder that I thought/hoped my life would be different.

I can look honestly at my life and say that I am glad I am where I am, but that doesn't mean I don't feel disappointment that the life I thought I wanted was all just a fantasy.

Girls

I just got home from watching Sex & the City with my best girl B.

It made me think about a lot of things, not the least of which is that I have been living in my own head way too often these last few months and I need to push myself to get it out somewhere even if it is in half formed sentences and incoherent thoughts, even if it does make people realize that I have moments of incredible insecurity and am sometimes neurotic. I think most people who know me are already aware of both those things. Because living in my head makes what is in reality very small and insignificant seem larger than life and tremendously scary. So maybe if I talk about it the dragons in my head and the monsters in my closet will shrink down to a reasonable size.

But that is not what this post is about.

Watching Carrie and her girls on the big screen made me think about my girls. Women really. And the myriad ways in which they have touched my life, have shaped who I have become, have given me images of where and who I want to be. They come in many different packages, have many different titles - my sisters, my trio of trouble, my breakfast buddy, my smart and beautiful girls -, and bring many different things to my life. But what they all have in common is that they inspire me on a daily basis.

I am truly blessed to have so many women in my life who love me despite (or perhaps because of) my quirks and many failings. Who have seen me at my best and at my worst. Who have tried to save me from myself, and failing that, stuck around to put me back together when I finally pulled my head out of the sand. They have danced, sang, laughed and cried with me. They have let me share their special moments and have had a hand in creating many of mine.

I may want a man in my life, but I NEED my girls. At different times and in different ways but also at all times and in all ways.

#94. Dentist in Calgary

I have had the same dentist for as long as I can remember. He is a friend of my uncle's from highschool. They played football together and when I was younger he would always tell me that I was braver and tougher than any football player he knew. I had to go through a lot of dental work in order to make my adult teeth fit in my very small mouth. You may not know this about me, but I am actually short 4 teeth.

When I saw him last spring he told me I should see a dentist in Calgary post haste because he thought I might be starting to grind my teeth. And then I chipped one of my front teeth in Mexico and I thought about seeing someone about that ... but somehow a whole year had passed since my last checkup and I hadn't managed to make time to find anybody here. So when I got the reminder call that I was due for an appointment I spurred myself into high gear.

My new dentist seems nice enough but he is no Dr S. Plus I kind of hold it against him that he managed to find 5 cavities on my first visit. Even though I know they have probably been there awhile, and should probably hold it against Dr S for not finding them one at a time. Loyalty is funny like that. Apparently he only found them due to new laser technology - I guess the old technique, wherein the dentist poked the top of your molars with a pointy instrument and if the point went through a soft spot it meant you had a cavity (I am so scientific), was no longer effective as everyone has much stronger tooth enamel these days. So my new dentist has this laser that they hover over your teeth and it emits a reading (0-99) and a high pitched squeal when it senses decay. It went pretty crazy in my mouth.

I have never had a cavity in my life so to go from 0-5 in a matter of moments was pretty shocking. And filled me with dread. Because the thought of having to hold my very small mouth open wide for over an hour while it was filled with a ton of instruments was enough to make me want to gag. The reality was not a lot better than the horror scene in my imagination. They have some spit sucking machine that helps to prop your mouth open while holding back your cheek and tongue ... I am sure that is the only way my mouth stayed open as long as needed. But it didn't stop my jaw from spasming. And they only did one side, so I get to go through this joyous experience all over again in about 2 weeks time.

And seriously, the freezing. I was trying to concentrate on breathing slowly through my nose and on not panicking and part way through the procedure I noticed that the right side of my nose (the side that was frozen) didn't feel like it was breathing properly, which did not help to ease me away from my proximity to hyperventilation. It was only as the freezing started to wear off that I realized that was because my nostril was also frozen. It was also the oddest experience to be able to see all of these instruments being passed around and knowing that they are in my mouth and being able to hear them but not actually being able to feel them. Talk about sensory overload.

Suffice to say that I am determined to never ever ever have another cavity for as long as I live, amen. Which means it is a good thing that I have also accomplished #87 on my list - 30 consecutive days of nightly teeth brushing. (I've heard that if you can do something 30 times in a row it starts to become a habit. AND I even managed to continue my new good habit outside of my normal environment and in an environment - my parents - at which I habitually relax my standards.) I was so lax in my night time routine, often so tired by the time I was getting into bed that it was so much easier to just crawl into bed and think I would just make up those 2 minutes in the morning. I have also added flossing and a mouth rinse. Lazy about my oral health no more.

Happiness

I've been thinking lately about what it means to be happy. Because I think that I am happy. And I want to qualify what is making me happy, as if I think that I could put these moments in a bottle and open it up at a later date to recreate this feeling of contentment.

There are things that are stressors in my life but they are by far overshadowed by the things that seem to be going well lately, by the feeling that I am starting to belong somewhere, by the occasional whisper of my psyche saying "yes! yes! life is good!". It has been a long time since I have been happy. Over the last year and a half I have been happier. But the way I feel right now - this is different. And I am scared that it will be fleeting and that I can't make it last. Part of me knows that I just have to enjoy this time for what it is, and believe that things will keep going well for me, that I will be able to handle anything that threatens to mar my happiness, that on days when I struggle there will be people there to help me through.

Part of me feels guilty for being so happy. Because what have I done to deserve this? Why are blessings befalling me while others are having a harder time? And then I think about the hard times (real or imagined) that I have so recently left behind and I convince myself again to just enjoy this time. To revel in the fact that walking through the door of my condo is enough to make me smile, that laughing and smiling in general comes much easier these days.

I think about all I have to look forward to in the next few months and I think that I am happy and I think that I shouldn't analyze how or why or when I should just smile and thank God for these moments.

Dreamtime

I have two recurring dreams that are (or should be) a sign that I am stressed out.

The first hasn't really made an appearance for a while. In it I either wake up and realize that I have slept in or I am in the middle of doing something and realize that I am late for an exam/handing in a big project that is due. I also realize that I haven't done any of the course assignments, haven't been to class in weeks, haven't read the course work, meant to drop the class before the drop class deadline but totally spaced out on actually dropping the course and now I have to walk in late for an exam that I am not at all prepared for/hand in a project that is totally unresearched and incomplete. I wake up panicked and flustered and it takes several moments of deep breathing to realize that I haven't been in school for almost 4 years now, that I did in fact drop all my classes 4 years ago, that I have no exam that I am late for, no project that I haven't researched.

The second dream is the one I have had most lately. I don't remember the dream so much as my actual waking moments after the dream. I am always searching for something I have lost. And the feeling of having lost something is so strong and so real that I am often on my feet out of bed digging in a drawer or peering under a shelf before I realize that I don't own/gave away a long time ago/never had what I am looking for. It used to be my retainer, sometimes it is something non-descript - a book, a key, lately it is a wedding band or an engagement ring (I wake up rubbing my left ring finger and panicking because there is no return caress of cold metal).

Is that weird? Do any of you have recurring/stress related dreams?

One Week

It has been a week today since I have been in my very own home. I still don't think it has entirely sunk in yet. I have had many moments of realizing that I live here and I own this place and it is mine to do what I want in and every time it feels like a new realization. I still feel like at any moment now someone is going to wake me from a very good dream. But that isn't going to happen. This isn't a dream.

I am loving living on my own. I am loving that this whole space is a reflection of my tastes, of my hard work. I am loving that I can come home at night and no one has touched my stuff, no one is in the kitchen or the bathroom or doing laundry when I want to be, everything is exactly how I left it when I went to work in the morning. I don't have to feel guilty about leaving something out or not cleaning up right away. I don't have to rush through my meal prep or my laundry so that someone else can use the space. I can do what I want when I want. Or not. It is awesome.

I knew that I was stressed about my living situation but I had no idea how stressed until suddenly that stress wasn't there.

It was a lot of work to get to this point. I got possession last Tuesday and there were more than a few moments when I wondered if I had made the biggest mistake of my life. My realtor and I had access just prior to possession to do a walk through and make sure nothing was majorly wrong, that all the appliances worked etc. The seller was supposed to have vacated the premises and surrendered all his keys to the building. Part way through the walk through he showed up, still having a set of keys. He had just happened to be in the neighbourhood and noticed that the lights were on so he figured he had better check it out - and he wasn't giving up his keys until his money was in his pocket (creepy!). Needless to say my first phone call was to a locksmith. I couldn't do anything about the main doors but I could certainly make sure he wouldn't have access to my suite. My realtor (and his) were both appalled and advised that in all their years of selling homes this had never happened.

Creepy Old Guy also felt it appropriate to share that he was moving to the Phillipines (might it have something to do with the on-line dating printouts of younger women he left lying around when we did our initial home inspection? My realtor and I have money on him having found some child mail order bride. Also creepy.) And then he tried to tell me that he had the living room carpets cleaned (not so much). He felt bad for two reasons - one, because he didn't think they had done a very good job (Because they didn't show up!) and two, because he didn't realize that he should also have had the bedroom carpet done - he had never opened the curtains so he didn't realize they were dirty, but that black spot right there? that was from his feet. (Creepiest) Needless to say, I was very glad that I had arranged with a co-worker to borrow her steamcleaner.

I knew that I would want to do my own cleaning before painting/moving in. In the back of my mind I think I realized that it wasn't like moving into an apartment where they are pretty much cleaned before you move in (although not so much in the place B and I lived together). But I had no thoughts that Creepy Old Guy would not have cleaned at all. In fact I am in serious doubt that he ever cleaned at all, maybe the odd wipe of the countertops but that was about it. It was disgusting. Think about a moment when you have found some bizarre and hard to clean corner of your own home and realized that you have missed cleaning it for a while. Now imagine that it is 600 sq ft of missed spots and it is not even your own dirt. I wanted to vomit and then call my mother. It wasn't the dirtiest place I have ever seen and it wasn't like he went out of his way to leave a major mess - there were no bottles or flies or anything of that nature. It just wasn't clean. And the floors were sticky. And there were splashes of coffee all over the kitchen. And the toilet had never been cleaned. And the fridge & microwave stank. (Vinegar is my new best friend) I bought rubber gloves and and arsenal of cleaning supplies and went to town for a good 7 hours. Plus the 2 hours it took to steam clean the rugs.

Then we spent 2 days painting. I had never painted before so I had no idea how that would go. And it is a little daunting to look at a very small paint sample and imagine how you think a whole room will look in that color and then hope that you are right. But I love my colors (Cappuccino in the living room/kitchen & Light Mocha in the bed/bathroom) so I guess it turned out all right in the end. The most awkward parts were painting around the sink and toilet in the bathroom. The sink because you kind of have to crouch on the countertops and paint in the dark because the lights are too hot (we rigged up an alternate lighting system) and the toilet because it is just awkward all together. Unless maybe you drained all the water and took off the tank? I managed to earn a well played from my cousin for getting out of back of the toilet duty on the second coat.

Finally it was moving day. In a snowstorm. And then a lot of shopping and hours spent putting things together. Thank god for Gerg - he more than made up for my dad's lack of handyman skills. I love my father, but task oriented and handymanesque he is not.

So here I am. Surrounded by all (well most) of my own things. Arranged how I like them. And I am almost ready to believe that I might just be happy.

Saturday Six

Reasons it is hard to live away

1. Miss my family

2. Miss having people I know and who know me around

3. Miss important events like births and birthdays and baptisms

4. When my mom does something like break her arm I am not around to help out

5. Worrying about my Baba and not being around to help out with her

6. The above mentioned people miss important events in my life

Reasons I like living in Calgary

1. Better relationship with my parents

2. Love my job

3. Meeting new people

4. Testing my limits

5. Learning who I am outside of the group

6. Good friends like Niki & Simone & Crystal & Shannon

Saturday Six

On Sunday ... cause I'm a day late and a dollar short ...

Inspired by the couples I was hanging out with last night and their insistence that I date a boy I am not in the least attracted to simply because he is nice and has a pile of money.

Things I am looking for in a boy I might consider dating

1. He should be single. Really, truly, actually single. As in no girlfriend. No wife. No girl he is a)sleeping with consistently or b)actively pursuing but willing to settle for me in the meanwhile.

2. He should be someone I find attractive - for whatever reason he should peak my interest. If this is not immediate, he should be someone I see often enough that his less obvious charms become evident.

3. He should be interested in his own good health, preferably physically active, and not because I pressure him into a gym membership/otherwise force him to take an interest.

4. He should be someone I can have an intelligent conversation with, not a genius necessarily but someone who can hold his own, and have opinions and not think that he has to agree with every word that comes out of my mouth.

5. He should challenge me - whether to try new things or think about old things in a different way.

6. He should be someone that I have fun with and who makes me laugh.

Quickie

There is so much to do and the days in which to do it in are flying by. It has been only a month and a half or so since this whole home buying plan got put into action but it feels like about three years. I think back to something that happened yesterday or last week and think was it only yesterday? Feels like a month ago. If the stress doesn't kill me it will only make me stronger right?

There is so much to say and yet the words to say it with elude me. The energy to sit in front of my computer and pour out my heart and be honest with myself and with you is sitting in a little well that is being covered up with lists upon lists of things to do and people to call and places to be. And when I do think about writing all I want to do is be ranty and fixate on things that don't really matter because the things that do matter? Scary doesn't even begin to describe it.

Everything feels larger than life and overwhelming. Work, the thought of painting my new place, keeping my current place tidy for showings, trying to fit in family and friends and appointments and me time, keeping up the gym ... the last one is SO important because I think the hour that I spend there on a (mostly) daily basis is what is keeping me sane. That hour of sweat pouring down my face and back, that hour where all I can think about is taking that next step, lifting that next weight and breathing, always always breathing. Everything else falls away for that hour and I feel like I might not drown, not yet, not today.

Saturday Six

Easter Related

1. Trivia: This is the earliest Easter can be. It will not be this early for another 250 years. Apparently Easter falls on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox. Who knew?

2. Good Friday is my favorite church service.

3. When I was little and we actually went to the Easter Vigil in our small town church, they used to have an actual bonfire at the back of the church. It is not a very solid memory but it is an important one.

4. I love me some Cadbury Mini-eggs.

5. My dad & I bought my mom tulips to celebrate Spring & Easter.

6. The Easter Bunny is going to be good to me - I know, because I got to pick out the chocolates :p. (I think the Easter Bunny & Santa Clause MIGHT stop coming for me when I have kids of my own. Good thing that is not likely to happen in the very near future.)

If a = b and b = c then a must = c. right?

I would pay good money for a boy-decoder ring.

I wish that my "I'm not sure what to think" default wasn't set to probably an asshole.

I wish that I wasn't so broken, so trained to believe that any boy I might be interested will a)turn out to have a girlfriend/like someone else and b)lie to me about it.

I am tired of being told by boys that have girlfriends that if they didn't have girlfriends they would totally date me and that they don't know why the single boys aren't lining up at my feet. Because when those boys are single - surprise! - they don't want to date me either.

I am tired of being told to think positive, that I will find love when I least expect it, that my turn is coming, that I should stop looking.

I am tired of being single, of wondering why I am single, of being scared of what life would be like if I wasn't single.

There is this boy at the gym and I think he is super cute and I think that he flirts with me/might be interested but I have NO idea how to get past the idle chit chat, how are you? stage.
Part of my issue is that he is not just some random guy at the gym he is one of the guys that works at the gym and that I have to interact with to get passes to my class and skipping ropes and other things from so I am scared that if I do anything too obvious and I have totally been reading him wrong then it will make me not want to go to the gym. Which would be bad on so many levels.

But mostly I am just not sure if he is actually flirting with me or just a friendly guy or I just desperately want someone to notice me so I am making up that he does.

Here's the story ... I had kind of noticed him around once in a while. And then I started going to a spin class on Saturday mornings and we started to have to get passes because it is a popular class. The first Saturday we need a pass I show up and he is handing them out but I forgot to bring something to exchange for the pass. He tells me I need collateral and I say "crap" or something along those lines because I am later than I would like and now have to go back to my locker on the other side of the gym. He says sorry and I say no, I knew I needed that, I'll be right back. When I get back he tells me he was saving a card for me. And then after class, before I even hand him my card (they're numbered) he says "Number 12! I remember!" And at that moment I realize that I think he is cute and am thereafter totally tonguetied and moronic around him.

So I pretty much see him every Saturday I am in Calgary and we make the abovementioned idle chit chat and now I also see him almost every other time I am at the gym and I am pretty sure ... not that he stares at me ... but he notices when I am around. And there is the odd wave or nod of acknowledgement when one or both of us is busy and we can't really say hey. And then a couple of weeks ago I saw him as I was leaving the weight room and he says "how's it going" and I say "good" and he says "I haven't seen you in a while. Well, I've seen you, but I haven't talked to you." which I followed up with a really lame comment that doesn't bear repeating and went on my merry way.

I finally got up the courage to introduce myself last Wednesday, after many pep talks from my girls and many false starts on my part. I think I flustered him a little, he blushed at any rate. I saw him again today and he said "hey, how's it going" and I said "good!" and then he frowned and knew he got my name wrong but was close. And part of me wants to think he tried to remember my name and that's a good thing. But the part of me that defaults to asshole thinks that he didn't remember my name even if he was close. And the very tired part of me thinks this shouldn't be this hard. Ironically, if it wasn't this hard I would probably have lost interest by now.

Saturday Six

Things that made me happy this week

1. Late night chatting with Niki
2. Late night hanging out with Simone/Tyler/Erik
3. Long phone call with Melly
4. Long phone call with Erica
5. Home deal being finalized
6. FINALLY introducing myself to the cute boy at the gym

It is Official

My condo deal went firm today!

The week was not as housewise hectic as anticipated but I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I am (not so secretly) super anal and on the ball. Monday was brutal because I made all my phone calls first thing and then had to wait impatiently for everyone else to get their lives in order and get back to me. But by the end of Tuesday I had all my financing approved and all my appointments set up and felt pretty good about life. So now all I have to do is talk to the lawyer (beginning of April), pick paint colors, pack and move. Everything has fallen into place and I can't help wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. But every time that negativity, those thoughts that my life can't be totally fabulous, creep up on me I take a deep breath and say no, I deserve to be happy, I deserve good things to happen to me, and I can deal with any minor bumps along the way. It's not a fool proof plan but it is keeping me moving forward with a smile on my face.

I had my inspection this afternoon and got to see the place knowing that it was mine and it was an awesome feeling walking through the door and thinking, I own this place! It still smelled like old man and still doesn't show well but I have a vision and think that once I paint and nest and make it my own I am really really going to love it. I noticed all kinds of little things I missed in the terror of trying to make a good decision, like the lights over the breakfast bar and how huge the balcony really is. I am excited over really nerdy things like how much storage space there is and the nook with the built in computer desk and the insuite laundry. Not to mention the walk-in closet and the breakfast bar and the decent sized bedroom and the underground heated parking.

My posession date is April 15 and it is going to come quickly. But I am ready and I am excited and I truly believe that everything is going to work out. I will be poorer than a churchmouse but I will have a home and I will feel like there is somewhere I finally belong in this city. Somewhere that I can come home to as a sanctuary. Somewhere that is mine all mine, from the furniture to the decorations to the sweat labour that will go into the paint job. I can hardly wait.

#7. Save for/buy property – conditional as of March 7, 2008

I conditionally own property!! And once I officially own property I will provide a few more details of said property. Pictures to follow if I a)buy a camera before I move in or b) (more likely) borrow my parents camera.

It is exciting and nervewracking and stressful and a whole lot of emotions all at once. Mostly good. But there is so much to do before the end of Friday that I am not sure how it is all going to come together in time. I have to call my investor to release my personal RRSP money and fill out a form to send away for my work RRSP money and talk to the bank to find out if the drop in interest rates changes anything or if my dad has to make a decision about loaning me a little bit more money or co-signing. I have to arrange for my inspection - which seems silly for a 600 sq ft condo built in 2006 but I know a guy and it is free so why the heck not. I have to meet with the people who are going to review my condo documents to make sure there is nothing funky up front that I need to know about. Plus working, working overtime, and um maybe some more overtime so that when I start hemmoraging money like there is no tomorrow there will actually be said money in my bank account.

The thought of everything I have to spend money on now is keeping me awake at night. So I am going to make a bit of a list right now in the hopes that once it is officially written somewhere my brain will turn off and let me sleep. (ha ha ha) There are lawyers fees and the cost of the condo review and possibly a repayment of taxes if the guy who currently lives there paid in advance. I need to paint so there will be the cost of paint etc. I need living room furniture (which I think I am buying 2nd hand and have mostly under control). A toaster and a kettle. And silverware. A vaccuum. And possibly a million other odds and ends, so I am really wishing I remembered exactly what is in the boxes I have packed up at my parents. Some of it is not going to be urgent purchases but there is enough that needs to be bought in the fairly immediate future that I am feeling slightly panicked and also unreasonably wanting to spend money on frivolous things. (Shopping calms my nerves. I am trying to find something free to calm my nerves and in the meantime beating down the urge to spend money unnecessarily.)

I think once the hectic and the money spending is over (I know the money spending will never actually end but the initial outpouring will slow to a trickle) I will be really excited. I'm in a great area of town, I really like the place I bought and I am SO excited to live on my own as previously mentioned. A little (or a lot) of financial frugality never killed anyone. Did it?

Saturday Six

Food Related

1. I first tried Apricot Stilton cheese when I was in England almost 5 (OMG) years ago and fell madly in love. I have searched every grocery store I have ever been in since and have failed to find it in Canada. But Thursday I got a hot tip that they sell it at Sunterra and there is now a hunk of delectable yumminess in my fridge. It was better than I remembered.

2. I always thought that the bagel switch on toasters was to widen the toaster slots so the bagel would fit better. Apparently it actually turns off the heat on one side so you only toast the front of the bagel. I prefer my bagels toasted on both sides.

3. Shopping for yogourt stresses me out. I don't want aspartame and I don't want too much artificial sugar but the label doesn't indicate how much sugar is artificial vs natural and ... and I try to eat yogourt every day so finding one that meets all of my requirements and is not uber-expensive would be a really good thing.

4. I don't like yogourt with fruit on the bottom

5. I am starting to really enjoy onions. Even raw. I think the world may be close to ending.

6. I love wraps. I think you could put almost anything in a wrap and it would be fabulous. Yesterday I had a flatbread wrap with hummous, artichoke, olive, fresh veggies and feta. I could have died happy after that meal.

Stepping Stones

I'm feeling a bit more on an even keel today. Still a little scared, still a little stressed, but more confident that I will be able to handle things. I think all I needed was a good nights sleep, a few deep breaths and a little perspective. I think it was the right decision not to make an offer yesterday.

Surprisingly, the person who has helped me calm down and rationalize the most is my mother. I know. No one is more shocked than I am. But everytime I have felt like things were getting out of control she has been the voice of reason, she has somehow said all the right things to make me step back and confirm that this is what I want. Last night she told me (and I am paraphrasing here) that people could say what they wanted and I could take or leave their advice but the most important thing was for me to have enough confidence that I was capable of making the best decision possible. And she is right. Even though I am scared that I might make a mistake, it will not be a mistake I can't recover from. I am not going to pay too much for my place. I am not going to buy a lemon. I know what my finances are like and what I can afford and what I have to do to make it work. And if the bottom of the market falls out, well, I am not going to be alone in that experience. All I can do is gather as much information and make as informed a decision as possible. As a Smart & Beautiful Girl(tm) I am more than qualified to take this step. More importantly I am ready to take this step.

I know that I don't love the place I am thinking about putting an offer on. But I do like it. I can see that it has potential with a little paint and my own personal touches. It is somewhere I will be able to afford and it is somewhere I think I will be happy for the next 2 to 5 years (Thanks Karen). It is not my dream house, but, as I have said before and as I may have to keep reminding myself, it is a stepping stone to get there.

I am going to look at a few more places on Thursday, just to make sure that there isn't something that meets all my qualifications that I do LOVE the minute I walk in the door. Depending what I find we'll take it step by step from there.

Not Knowing

I didn't put an offer in. I almost did. But then I didn't.

And I am frustrated, confused and feeling rather stupid because there are so many things I don't know and I am not one who likes to negotiate and everyone has about 4 million opinions about what I should do and how I should do it and ... and I just don't know.

I know that I need to move. I know that I want to buy rather than rent. I know that I want a one bedroom so that I can live on my own. I know that it is a buyers market right now.

But I don't know what the market is going to do. And I don't know what a fair price actually is given that even offering "low" is still considerably high for what a place is actually worth. Except that what a place is actually worth is driven by the market and ...

I have looked at 12 places (the only 12 in my price range in the SE/SW and not on the ground floor) and liked 2 of them. Not loved. And there are things that I don't like about both places. So does that mean I should widen my search or does that mean I should be more ok with offering low and sticking low. And how does my realtor fit in? Because obviously she is in it for the commission and the more I pay the more she makes. But she says she wants me to love the place I make an offer on and that if I am not willing to move much off my starting point then that means I don't love it and won't be happy so we should keep looking. But then other people say that even if I did love it I should still start low and stay firm because it is a buyers market and the seller should come as close to my price as possible. They say it is like a game of chicken and if the sellers place has sat long enough without any bites then they have to be getting nervous so even if I am nervous because I have a deadline for when I have to move by I still have the upper hand.

It doesn't really feel like the upper hand. It feels like I don't know. And like I should know. And like I have to make a decision only how do I know if I am making the right decision and ...

Have I mentioned the frustrated and stressed part?

I am trying to stay positive and believe that things will work out the way they are supposed to and that I will find a place I love and can afford. It is really hard to do today.

Opinionated? Who Me?

Wednesday officially started the condo hunt. My realtor (Kim) and I had gone out a couple of times before my stint in Edmonton but that was before I had really decided what I wanted and knew what I could afford. So Wednesday was the deluge of 1 bedrooms.

We saw 9.

And I liked 1.

I haven't decided if that is good or bad yet. We are going tomorrow afternoon to see the place I liked again and 4 others. I am pretty sure if I don't like any of the other 4 I will be putting in an offer. Tomorrow. In less than 24 hours. Send a brown bag for me to hyperventilate in kthanks.

Here is what I have learned from my search: a lot of people who design condos do not have the functionality of a small space in mind. I apparently feel strongly that if I am going to be living in 600sq ft or less it NEEDS to be functional. There should be closets. The masterbedroom/walk in closet should not be bigger than the rest of the living area. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the idea of a walk-in closet. The very girly part of me wept for joy when I walked into that bedroom. My dreamhouse has several walk-in closets. But I am not buying my dreamhouse. I am buying a stepping stone towards my dreamhouse and the practical side of me would much rather trade a bigger bedroom with walk in closet for a kitchen I can actually cook in and a living area that will fit more than 2 people without guests having to resort to sitting on top of one another.

I am starting to get really excited to live on my own. To know that on days when I get home tired and stressed out and wanting to be alone no one will be there unless I have invited them. I won't have to play nice with people I hardly know. I will know that I can cook in the kitchen when I am hungry. I will know that if I had food in the fridge it will still be there unless I ate it/threw it out. I can have a bath whenever the mood hits. I can sleep with my bedroom door open. I can clean on my own schedule and know that if there is a mess it is because I made it. I think it will be glorious.

Saturday Six

Things I am Grateful For

1. Drinks with Shannon & Lori-Ann last night

2. Getting through month end mostly unscathed

3. Long phone calls with B

4. Emails from my mom

5. Being able to keep my nails for as long as I have

6. Niki's help/support during my condo hunt

Between a Rock & a Hardplace

I'm not sure how to write about this. Even thinking about writing about this feels like a betrayal of sorts. So even though it may be obvious to some who I am talking about I am going to try as best I can to not be overly specific, to not name names or relationships. Because I think I need to write about this.

I have been trying very hard over the last couple of years to cut the negative out of my life. To walk away from those people who consistently make me feel badly about myself, from those people who belittle me or treat me without dignity and respect. To tell myself that I deserve people in my life who want only good things for me, who are willing to support me, who are positive influences.

But there is one person in my life that I don't think I can walk away from. Even though his screaming at me to fuck off and that he hates me and that he never wants to see me again cuts deeply. Even though his comments that I am fat and ugly, meant to be hilarious because in actuality I am neither fat nor ugly, hit all the right nerves every time because I have such issues with how I look. Even though he picks me and hangs me upside down or carries me bodily out of the room because he feels like it and I scream at him to stop, not because he is physically hurting me but because he is making me feel helpless and powerless.

I know that something is wrong with him. Emotionally, psychologically. Something is wrong. He is too angry too much of the time for there to be nothing wrong. And everytime I realize that I can do nothing to help him because he does not want my help, because my concern only serves to anger him further, another piece of my heart breaks. And everytime someone tells me not to take it personally, not to let him ruin my night or my self-confidence, because although his anger and rage might be directed at me it is not because of me, I wonder how they can make that distinction. I think of all the times he has been sweet and gentle and kind and I wonder where that boy goes and I wonder where all the anger comes from and I wish more than anything that there was something I could do.

But I can't keep being the target he lashes out at.

Moving to Calgary has brought some distance but it hasn't solved the problem, only made me feel like I am running away, hoping each time that I go back to Edmonton that things will be different. I know that if something is wrong I will feel overwhelmed by guilt for not knowing how to help, for not being strong enough to make him get help, for being selfish by looking out for my own fragile psyche and staying as much out of his way as possible. From todays vantage point it feels absolutely like a lose lose situation.

Saturday Six

Nice Things My Boss Said Yesterday

1. That she gets a lot of feedback about my work and it is always positive

2. That she sees me as her go to girl and knows that anything she asks of me will be done and done well.

3. That audits of my work all come back impeccable which means not only am I efficient I am also effective.

4. That my agents see me as a team player

5. That my agents know that even if I have to say no I will a)explain myself and b)try to provide an alternative solution

6. That I always come across as professional, even when having conversations that could easily go another way.

Project Buy Property

I think I was a little bit scared to come back to Edmonton last weekend. I knew that I had to have a big talk with my parents about exactly how much financial help they were willing and able to give me to get Project Buy Property up and running and I wasn't entirely sure how that would go. I knew that they were more than willing, I just wasn't entirely sure what that meant in real numbers and I felt guilty (feel guilty) that I was even asking this of them. (They offered, I asked, it all boils down to the same thing really) I tried to do a lot of budgeting and planning before I got here so that I could give them options and proof of what I was going to do to make things work but I just wasn't entirely sure how the conversation was going to go.

Thankfully better than expected. And then we met with 1 bank on Tuesday and I am officially pre-approved for a mortgage. Which was all kinds of scary and not scary at the same time. Because now I have to think about a fixed or floating mortgage and maybe talk to at least one other bank to see what kind of rate they will give me and ... really it is so many numbers my head is still spinning. But the lady at the bank said she thought that I was going about things very logically. Which made me wonder for a moment if she was entirely crazy because most of the time I feel like I have no idea what I am doing and like things are happening at warp speed and without my actually having time to think things through. (Which is maybe a good thing). Take the bank for example - I popped in on my lunch break to make an appointment for Thursday and they were all, well Thursday won't work but how does now sound? Can you pop in now? (OMG).

But there is a plan in place and it involves a 1 bedroom or a 1 bedroom +den and no roommate and a mortgage payment that is going to make my financial life more dreary than my sex life (is that even possible?) but I will have a home and it will be my own. And when I am not completely terrified I am actually rather excited.

Next stop: a meeting with my boss tomorrow to discuss the overtime hours I am going to start working.

#22. Make Seafood Crepes

And I actually made them this time, instead of just eating them.

For future reference here is the recipe:

Crepes
1 cup all purpose flour
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup water
1/4 tsp salt
2 tablespoons butter/margarine (soft/melted)

Place ingredients in blender in order given. Blend 30 seconds. Stop and stir down sides. Blend 30-60 seconds until smooth. Refrigerate ~ 1 hour. Makes about 16 crepes.
Note to self: Mom usually does 1.5 recipe. 1 cup milk and 1/2 cup water will make thinner crepes.

Filling:
In a frying pan saute butter, mushrooms, onion and celery.
In a large pot melt 1/4 cup butter, whisk in 1/2 cup flour & salt to make a roux. As thickens add: soup stock/milk/wine (~2-1/2 cups total liquid). Add generous amount of worchestershire sauce. Salt to taste. Add in saute mixture.
Cook shrimp, scallops, crab/other seafood in butter and lemon juice.
Add to pot until thick and bubbling.
Allow to cool and fill crepes.

So it is not an exact science but it sure is yummy.

There are no words

I think one of the worst feelings in the world is consciously realizing you have outgrown a friendship. Especially a friendship that means the world to you, a friendship that has held you together through so many storms and made you feel safe and whole and loved unconditionally. But I have realized over the last little while that because of all of those things I have come to have unrealistic expectations about that friendship. And I have to let those go. I am ok with letting those go. But I am also scared because I know that it means our friendship will never be what it once was. Maybe, given time, we will find a new rhythm, a new closeness, a level of intimacy that will actually work for the long run. But right now I think I need to step back, gain some perspective and move on without that kind voice offering words of encouragement, without those warm hands holding mine, without that unwavering belief in me pushing me forward. And that terrifies me. Even while I know that I can't keep using this friend as a crutch, that I can't keep the past level of intimacy without keeping the unrealistic expectations and the hurt that goes along with every realization that they are unrealistic. Even while I am propelled forward by this person, a part of me is held back, hoping that if I can recreate those perfect moments they will become an always reality. And that part of me needs to move forward. Even though I don't know what that actually means or will look like.

I find friendships/relationships confusing. I don't understand why some people are forever friends and some are friends for a moment and some are never truly friends. I don't understand why some friendships end with a blowout, some just fade away entirely, others fade in and out and still others are a comforting constant. But I found this blurb and while not entirely satisfying it does make me feel like I am not alone in the ups and downs of the people who make up my life.

The author is anonymous but the words ring true to me right now.

A Reason, A Season Or A Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. When you figure out which one it is, you will know what to do for each person.
When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually. They may seem like a god-send, and they are! They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrong doing on your part, or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, your desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered, and now it is time to move on.
When people come into your life for a SEASON, it is because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn. They bring you an experience of peace, or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it! It is real—but, only for a season.
LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person, and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

Saturday Six

Six of my Favorite TV Boyfriends

1. Greg from CSI - important to note that while I have a fondness for CSI Greg it is lab tech Greg that I truly love.

2. Luke from Gilmore Girls - but not asshat Luke from Season 6

3. Vaughn from Alias - can we say HOT

4. McDreamy/Dr Shepherd from Grey's Anatomy

5. Reid from Criminal Minds

6. Oz from Buffy

Don't be my Valentine

I've been trying to get my thoughts on Valentines Day in some sort of coherent order.

I wouldn't exactly say I am anti-Valentine but the day doesn't exactly inspire or thrill me either. Maybe it is fair to say that while I appreciate the concept I dislike the commercialization?

I don't like to talk about it a lot because I've gotten the whole "you're just bitter because you're single" response one too many times. And while I won't totally write that off as irrelevant, I also think that I would feel the same way if I was in a relationship. Proof being that the one year I was in a relationship I held my ground.

I think it is important to tell the person/people that you love how you feel. But I'm not entirely comfortable that we have a day that makes people feel like if they don't make some sort of grand gesture for their significant other then they're assholes. I don't like the radio and TV ads that make it all about men doing something big for their ladies. I don't think that not doing something on Valentines Day negates all of the sweet moments and memories you've created the rest of the year. And I don't like that single people feel excluded and/or herded into some singles night because clearly Valentines Day is the day you will meet someone as desperate as you are.

Is that cynical? Because I don't mean it to be. I am all about the romance and the prince charming and the white knight sweeping me off my feet. Just don't do it on Valentines Day. Or at the very least don't make me feel like you HAD to do it on Valentines Day.

When I was little my mom only worked part time. And every Valentines Day she would make seafood crepes and a rice dish and a special dessert and we would light candles and use the good china and eat in the dining room. I looked forward to that meal all year. We had gotten out of the habit but last year I was home around Valentines and I made a special request for crepes and this year I will be home and I actually get to help make the crepes. So I am pretty stoked about that. (See? Not entirely cold and heartless)

The bottom line is waaaaay down

This whole trying to buy property thing is really really really stressing me out.
Mostly because it is so much money. And I have so very little money. And I honestly crunched numbers and it is going to take a lot of sacrifice to make this work. A lot.
Like no more personal trainer twice a month. Like no travel at all this year or any other time that somehow relates to soon. Very little eating out. Little to no new clothes. My list could go on but it just serves to depress me more.

But I still feel committed to taking this step, I still feel like putting my money towards property I own is better than throwing the same amount of money at a landlord. I just hyperventilate every time I look at the bottom line.

I very definitely need a roommate.

And I am going to have to either a)work more hours at my current job or b)get a second part time job.

Consider 2008 forward all about the scrimping and the saving and the finding free/cheap ways to entertain myself.

I just really hope it is as worth it as I think it is going to be.

And that I can keep up the positive affirmations and the faith that the universe is going to help me achieve my goals in a (mostly) affordable manner if I just believe hard enough.

Saturday Six

Six Things I do that are apparently Not universal

1. At the gym - I put back what I take. If I take a ball from the main weight room, I return it to the main weight room.

2. In public washrooms - I make sure the toilet has flushed prior to leaving the stall

3. I check my bank statements/balances. I always have a fairly good idea as to how much money is in my account at any given time and what I am expecting to come out of my account in any given time frame. I go over everything with a fine tooth comb once every two weeks when I get paid just to make sure nothing out of the ordinary is going on.

4. I update my address when I move.

5. I turn off my alarm clock, especially if I am not going to be in my own bed the next time it is set to go off.

6. I tell people who might be concerned (roommates, parents) if I am going to be gone for an extended period of time.

Moving on (again)

I'm in the middle of a freakout. Or rather, I was in the middle of a freakout. I am (I think) currently in the calm post decision pre storm.

So a couple entries back I made a (very) brief reference to the fact that Chels (my roomie) and I had had a discussion about our living situation. It went something like this:
Me - Are you planning on selling this place and moving in with your boyfriend?
Her - Nope. If we do move in together I'll keep this place as a rental. Feel free to plan to stay as long as you want.

This was barely two weeks ago. Fast forward to last night.
Her - So remember how I told you I wasn't moving in with the boy and selling this place? I'm moving in with the boy and selling this place.

Huh. Awesome.

And it's not that I don't understand or think that it is the best decision for her. But I am really tired of moving. And I am even more tired of moving because other people say I have to. And I would really really like to live somewhere for more than 6 months.

So I think that I am going to buy. Hence the freak out. Because the I think I am going to buy is more like I am 99.9% sure I am going to buy and yes it really is the best decision but holy crap I arrived at it over night and I have to buy a place by May 1 instead of leisurely taking my time over the fall of 2008 as I had planned. (I had also planned to be married and have 2.5 kids by the time I was 25. Sometimes shit happens.)

I'm going to have to find a roommate obviously. And my parents are on board financially otherwise I could never pull it off in this economy. And I have the option to buy this place, which would be nice because I really like the area and the layout of the condo and I wouldn't have to move everything, but I am going to try and look at 3 other places (maybe more) over the weekend just to see. And then my dad and I will have to sit down and meet with the bank and start putting all the paperwork together ... but I can't think that far ahead (2 weeks) because I start to hyperventilate a little.

It makes sense to do this now though. Because I do want to buy in the near future anyways and I don't want to move now (AGAIN) and move in the fall (AGAIN) and with a roommate my mortgage payment will be the equivalent or very close to the rent I would pay to live on my own. So if I am going to be house poor I would rather actually own a house.

But it is a HUGE step and one I am not entirely sure I am ready for. I feel guilty that I am asking my parents for so much money, even though they are offering, even though my dad told me not to even take that into consideration. I almost burst into tears when he said that they would do what they had to to make sure I got what was best for me. I am not sure I deserve that, especially not in such a large monetary sum. And I guess it just feels weird to be taking this step on my own. I had always envisioned buying my first home with the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Never once did it occur to me that I might still be single, that I would have to search for a roommate, that it would be all me, all the time, all alone. The ideal that I should be taking this step with someone else is a hard one to let go of. But I don't have a lot of options and I certainly can't let not having a man in my life keep me from making the best decision for me in this moment.

And so it goes.

Loud voices I Wish I could silence once and for all.

You told me that it was ok if I said no, but you would break up with me. You broke up with me anyways.

You told me out of 10 you would give me a 6 and that would be generous of you because you would take my great personality into account.

You told me you didn't want to wreck our friendship. You didn't want to date long distance. You followed up by dating 3 girls who lived farther away than I did. I'm glad I kept your jacket.

You told me I had one physical flaw you couldn't get over, that all your friends thought I was ugly, and you had to go with group opinion on that one.

You made mean comments about my nose everytime you saw me. Did you think I needed your help to hate the way I looked?

You disappeared from my life and then randomly called me 4 months later to tell me how guilty you felt for dating a girl you didn't really like to prove to your friends that you could have a long term relationship.

You told me we could have sex but you would be thinking about my best friend.

You told me lie after lie after sweet little lie and I desperately wanted to believe you.

You told me you just wanted to be friends, you didn't want to date anyone. 3 weeks later you cried on my shoulder about the girl you really wanted to date who would have nothing to do with you.

You slept in my bed, we talked about hanging out in the future, then you told everyone it was weird that I had followed up with a phone call.

40 Days of No Excuses for Not Exercising

I realized yesterday that with Easter being so early this year, Lent starts next week. Now I am the first to admit that I am not a very good Catholic. I don't go to church regularly, I don't agree with a lot of the church teachings, and I feel like there should be a third point to round things out but I don't have one. But I do have faith, whether it fits nicely in with an organized religion or not. Mostly not. And Catholicism is the way I was brought up to express that faith. And I guess whatever failings I might find with the church itself there are still some aspects that I like, there are times of the year that bring back very strong memories associated with being in a church, and there are rituals that are very much a part of who I am.

The first thing I did this morning was pull out the pancake recipe that I found online some weeks ago. Because I am bound and determined that there will be pancakes this Tuesday so I had to make sure I picked up anything I needed at the grocery store. I am not sure why the pancakes are so important to me this year. It's certainly not anything my family has made a regular habit of doing, but I remember last year really wanting pancakes and when I realized it was going to be Lent I really wanted pancakes, therefore pancakes will be had.

Then I started thinking about what I should give up for Lent. Lots of people give up chocolate or fast food or desserts ... but for the most part I am already mostly cutting those out of my life so that didn't work. But this morning at the gym, after more than a week of sloth (meaning no gym/exercise) it hit me. Instead of giving something up I am going to take something on. So starting Wednesday it will be 40 days of No Excuses for Not Exercising. Obviously there may have to be some excuses - if I get injured or viciously ill or have a migraine like I did last Wednesday. But no wimp-ass "I'm tired" or "I worked late" or "I'm in a bad mood". Because you know what? as soon as I get there the exercise takes all those excuses and kicks them to the curb and I am always glad that I made myself go. Getting through the door is 90% of the battle and it is always worth it. For my good health.

Fragments

I'm still reeling from yesterdays migraine.

My mom told me not to worry. Was I worrying? she asked. The answer was yes even though I said no. I am not sure I am ready to talk about it yet.

Not sure that January is ending on a high note but overall the month has gone much better than anticipated. December was so ... I am not sure there is one word to describe it. I spent much of December in Edmonton and that was good and bad and neither all at once. I came to some pretty big realizations (not ready to talk about those either) and took what amounted to very large steps in some direction that I can only hope was the right one and was emotionally up and down and all over the map, beginning 2008 as a pool of tears on several peoples shoulders. When people asked what was wrong all I could do was sob that I didn't want to go home. Home being Calgary. Not home being Edmonton. (I find I very confusingly refer to both cities as home and not home and I apologize here and now for all the times I am sure I won't spell myself out. ) Everyone was super great about telling me I could come visit whenever I wanted and that I could stay at their place if I didn't want to stay at my parents and it was only 4 weeks until I saw the Scrapbooking Girls and only 3 weeks after that until Family Day and then there would be Beth's shower and ... But that wasn't the point exactly. While there are definitely days when I would like to go home (Edmonton) there is also at this point an overwhelming sense that I am supposed to be in Calgary. I don't know what that means or why I feel that way and often wonder if it is just my inability to give up and admit that I can't do this (this being living 3 hours away from my entire family/family of friends) except that I can do this and have been doing it and ... The point was that my whole world had fallen apart about oh, umpteen million times over the course of 31 days and I had kept it together because I was all cocooned in my safety net and every time I fell someone I loved was right there to catch me, whether they knew that's what they were doing or not. And I just knew that the aftermath of my falling apart was going to start hitting the fan and I was going to be in Calgary, alone, trying to catch myself and I didn't see how that was even remotely possible. But the aftermath ... well maybe it is still coming. Or maybe those phone calls to B and Dev coming for breakfast and lunch with Simone and Niki having me over for supper & an evening of Dallas and making tentative plans with Shannon to start a book club and dinner with Amanda and finding out from Chels that I could stay here indefinitely and writing again ... maybe those small and unrelated things were enough to hold me together or at least hold me still so that some of the fragmented pieces could settle.

4 years and growing ...

1. Finish Europe Scrapbook

It took me the better part of 4 years but I put the finishing touches on my Europe scrapbook over the weekend. I started scrapbooking the spring of 2004 after Kristy & Chantal came back from Mexico, almost a year after I took my trip with Beth & Mel. We still lived in the Party House and a group of us (Kristy, Chantal, Karen & Sabrina) would get together every couple of weeks to work on our individual projects together. Sabrina is our "dealer", she works for a scrapbooking company so she is our direct line to papers, stickers and all the cool tools that make scrapbooking an absolute addiction. As our lives got busier we found less and less time to make scrapbooking a group activity, but still get together periodically to share ideas, trade tools and tips and provide positive feedback about eachothers work.

We spent this last weekend at a bed & breakfast near Ferintosh - scrapbooking, socializing and getting pampered by our hosts. They provide 3 square meals a day, a huge room to spread out our projects, a hot tub, lots of beds and as many cinnamon buns as your heart desires (not to mention tarts, pudding, pancakes and an amazing dessert that tasted exactly like a drumstick). I enjoy scrapbooking - it combines my love of taking pictures with my penchant for hanging on to assorted oddments that I pick up along my travels AND I get to hang out with 4 girls I don't spend nearly enough time with now that I am in Calgary (and who am I kidding, in the last year before I left for Calgary). I also find scrapbooking challenging which is why I prefer to do it in a group setting so that I can get opinions and positive reinforcement that my efforts don't look like crap.

I'm not quite sure how to explain why I find scrapbooking so challenging. It's not exactly that I don't think I am a creative person - but it's not a part of my brain I use very often so my creative skills are a little rusty. And I have always been told that I am no artist - which is true in the sense that I couldn't draw a stick person to save my life - but I am starting to realize that you can be artistic in ways that don't involve drawing or painting and I like that scrapbooking is an outlet that allows me to find my inner artist and to express myself in ways I might not otherwise be able to. I have ideas for other projects now that the Europe book is complete, a little smaller than scale but by no means less important to telling a story about who I am and where I have come from. I'm looking for other ways to tell that story - blogging here more often is going to be another outlet, buying a new camera and taking more photos is a top priority. It's all about opening myself up to new ways of expressing myself, new ways of thinking about communication, new ways of figuring out exactly who I was and who I am becoming.

More than a list

I've been thinking a lot about goals lately, as I review my old 101 list and try to create my new 101 list (I'm at 98). About how setting goals is a good way to really think about where you are and where you want to be and what you want to do along the way. About how accomplishing your goals is fulfilling and provides a sense of moving forward. About how some goals are easily quantifiable and have an obvious end and how other goals are just kind of ethereal and hard to pin down as totally done because they never are, not really.

I've been thinking about how great it is that I accomplished 73 things that I set out to do almost 3 years ago now. And how while that is fantastic and amazing ... well what about those 28 that I didn't finish? Why didn't I finish them? Did I fail by not finishing them? And there is no real definitive answer. To any of the questions. I guess who I am now is different and the same as who I was 3 years ago. I guess I have different goals and different dreams and at the same time I have some of the same goals and dreams and it is very confusing at times. To figure out who I was and who I am and who I want to be. Who I want to be to myself and who I want to be to others. I have tendrils of thoughts that almost come close to being answers but they are difficult to grasp and almost always when I am half asleep.

I've been thinking about all of the really cool stuff I did in 3 years, all the not so cool stuff, all the happy and sad and extraordinarily painful moments, all the things I would never have thought to put on my 101 list but that happened anyways and have helped to shape the way my life is heading today. Not only did I go to Greece, but I flew overseas and saw most of Athens by myself and then spent the rest of my 10 days having a very fabulous time with my parents and meeting a lot of people from Holland. I went up two Acropolises (Acropoli?) and one of them involved a donkey. I went to game 6 of the Stanley Cup playoffs. I got a new job (on the list) and it involved moving (not on the list) all by myself to a city where I really knew no one and without my BFF to hold my hand. I saw one of my best friends get married - was her maid of honor, hand made invitations, learned enough about powerpoint to make a slideshow, wrote and said a speech, got seranaded, and had actual conversations with boys from highschool who used to terrify me. I hit Las Vegas twice, kissed a real live baseball player, took a road trip to Palm Springs, went to LA and saw Wicked (!!) at the Pantages Theatre. I met Simone, her fabulous family, and got to be part of her entire pregnancy. I have a better relationship with my mom than ever before. I did readings at my grandmothers funeral. I bought a new car.

I guess what I am trying to tell myself is that while it is well and good to have a list of things I would like to do, it is also more than acceptable to not do all of those things, to have my priorities shift or change all together and to have experiences that I never would have had the foresight to plan out on paper.

Wrap up

I realized a while back that the deadline for my 101 things in 1001 days has long since come and gone. So the other day I did my final tally and was pleasantly surprised to find that I had completed 73 items on my list and had started work on several of the last 28. (Yay!) This was much better than anticipated, especially considering some of the stuff I thought was a long shot (Greece) actually managed to get knocked off. It even inspired me to make up a new list, which at this point I am not going to post publicly but may use as fodder for future entries if the results are interesting enough. I will mention one goal that does affect this site though, which is to write a minimum of 36 new entries ... I figure that means writing at least once a month and although I am hoping to write more than that, once a month will be a good start if nothing else.

The last few days have been mostly good, even though I feel terribly burnt out at work what with the short staffing and all. I still love my job but half staff with no end in sight is not very fun even when you are doing something you love. The one bleak spot was finding out that Simone is 99% for sure moving back to Edmonton, which means a)if our head office can't accomodate her living in Edmonton when she is done her mat leave we are down another person and b)one of my best girls will no longer live in the same city as me. Who will I have TV nights and dinners with? When will I get to see 2 of my favorite boys? But this is not about me, and I know how much Simone has wanted to go back to Edmonton and how unhappy she has been alone in Chestermere while her husband works out of town so much of the time. So I am honestly happy for her and think this will be a good step for her.

I think part of our bond, aside from automatically being kindred spirits, is that we are both displaced Edmontonians. We understand what it is like to love our job but not really feel at home in Calgary, to worry about being so far away if something were to happen to someone that we love. In some ways it is different because as much as there are hard days and moments when I wish I could just go home I also feel like Calgary is where I am supposed to be. I feel like given enough time I can make Calgary work for me. It is hard to find the balance though - between going home often enough that I don't get homesick and super lonely for my family & friends, and staying in Calgary for long enough periods to feel like I am starting to have a life and make friends here. Trial and error and baby steps I guess.

Step 1

A lot has changed in the last year.
Actually a lot has changed in the last month.

Good changes I think, even though I am still reeling from certain self-revelations and not entirely sure what it all means yet. Kind of like I burst through a shell that I didn't even know existed, never mind that it was holding me back. But the last few weeks have been tentative steps forward and even if I can't quite quantify all or any of it, something is different. The same but different.

I still don't quite know where I fit in or belong. I still feel torn between Edmonton and Calgary - both of them being home but not home at the same time. I still have the urge to write but the fear of actually opening up to others and to myself, as well as feeling like my life is too routine to actually be an interesting read and that while I probably possess the skills to make it an interesting read ... what if I fail? Clearly I have not made much progress in my attempts to get over my fear of failure.

I am kind of sad at the moment. For a lot of reasons but mainly because moving forward (even if it is at a snail's pace) definitely means leaving certain things behind and/or having a different relationship with some people/things. But in some ways I have been holding on to an ideal that never really was, or hasn't been for a long time, and I have to let that go. For example: my friendship circle is not the same as it was 4ish years ago when I lived in the Party House and the majority of my friends also lived in the University area and it was so easy to find time to hang out and get a group together. People have moved away, time is more of a luxury these days ... the list can go on. And while there are times, like Christmas, when most people come back and it feels like the old days again ... those old days are gone and the friendships are different. Not necessarily a bad thing. But an important thing for me to realize when I compare my life now to my life then.

The other thing I have realized is that no matter the distance, even if they can't swing by at the drop of a hat anymore, there are people in that circle who love me unconditionally. At the moment I am not entirely sure I deserve that. But they are there whenever I need my pieces put back together. They have always been there: when I didn't want my pieces put back together, when they didn't know why I needed to be put back together, when I didn't realize I needed to be put back together. They are the glue that has held me together and I am not sure if I have ever said thank-you. I am not sure if saying thank-you is even remotely enough.