February

Here's how it's gonna go down:

Superbowl.

Valentines.

My sister's birthday.

Move my mom.

Yep.

That's February in a nutshell.

Mike leaves at the end of it.

I apologize in advance for all of you I won't see this month.

I AM A NEWLYWED AFTER ALL.

Saturday Morning

http://lisaloveandlife.blogspot.com/

http://blackcatbaby-imjustsayin.blogspot.com/

http://ridethreadlessto.blogspot.com/

http://fat-girlinalittlecoat.blogspot.com/

http://mamapundit.com/
http://www.reagansblob.com/
http://www.juliaipsa.com/
http://www.or-so-i-feel.blogspot.com/

Just a few of my favourite blogs, as I sit on a Saturday morning, brewing coffee with my French press (my coffee maker broke about 6 months ago. I never got around to getting a new one. Yes, I'm serious).

So..blog reading is what I am doing right now instead of running, instead of waking Mike up, instead of packing for Niagara-on-the-Lake, because we are supposed to leave...ah...now.

Oops.

Anyway. Not sure if you can click on the links above (MAC. you frustrate me sometimes) but these are some that I like to peruse through. I especially like the fact that:

a) all of these blogs are radically different from each other

b) yes. some are by mormons. I know that I have nothing in common with mormons but I'm fascinated by their approach to that ever-thorny topic known as "religion"

c) all of these writers are doing this pretty much just for the sake of writing. Not really for much else. Yes, I'm sure everyone on this list (myself included) would lurve a book deal, a job, something to come out of what can sometimes seem endless blogging about life and how everyone approaches that daily thing called "living" a little bit differently from everyone else.

That's the real hook, isn't it? The internet, with all its "sameness" and often vanilla content, showing us that every person has their own unique way of living life and we get a glimpse into that when reading blogs, facebook statuses (stati?) and tweets on twitter.

In the words of my friend L., "I love it all".

Journal 115 Married Life

Things I like about being married (so far, it's exceeding my expectations. I knew it would. Yes I know I'm not even a month in yet. Whatever. I'm a late bloomer, let me enjoy myself):

1. Coming home to him.

This one's important. Going from LDR to LDM (at least for the next little while) is tough, I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. There was a period last year where we were apart, continuously, with not even a quick visit, for over five months.

So for me, coming home to him means a little bit more than the person who gets married, moves right into sharing a home with their spouse, and is able to 'start' their life together right off. It's going to be tricky, and I'm not exactly sure how it will look when I get to top of the hill on this immigration stuff, but I know it will be okay.

2. Coming home to him after what feels like a nearly-endless work week, after attending an evening work event, it's almost 10 pm and I have left the house at 8 that morning and he's made a whole dinner, with a bunch of snacks, and it's waiting for me.

There is nothing better than that.

3. Coming home to him and talking about my day, his day, the recent tennis match in the Australian Open, the weekend away we're planning, the upcoming Superbowl, what he bought at the store, what we're going to do tomorrow, what our dreams are, how we're going to make them come true.

I once read a poster about marriage (in my therapist's waiting room, oddly enough) that said: "Marry a person you can talk to."

I now completely understand this statement. Talking to Mike I have some of the best conversations ever. There are very few people who fall into this category.

4. Someone else loves my niece and nephew as much as I do. And they love him back.

5. I have another niece and nephew now and they are both amazing.

(this sounds funny. not a 'new' niece and nephew, just 'I have an additional niece and nephew. LOL. Whatever, they're great).

6. My new family. They are American, opinionated, talkative, and all amazing as well.

7. When people compliment my rings.

8. That despite spending the last fifteen-odd years of my adult life trying to escape the restaurant industry by becoming a kitchen designer and building my career up while waitressing on the side and truly sometimes detesting it, I'm now married to someone who runs a restaurant. The irony doesn't escape me, believe me.

9. That somehow I've become something that is not usually a label applied to women: Sportsfan. I know. Yesterday after the IDS show and getting a free copy of the Globe and Mail, I found myself leafing through the Sports section, something I used to automatically pull out of the paper to put into the recycling to get it out of my way. The strangest part was reading the stories with interest and knowledge. Sports has always been my bugbear category in Trivial Pursuit. I vow it will be no more.

10. Calling Mike my husband. For so many more reasons than I could ever list here.

Journal 114 Dear Me Part One

All around the internet lately, I guess inspired by the melanoma ad titled "Dear sixteen-year-old me" bloggers are taking this to task.

The thought of writing to my sixteen-year-old self is vaguely horrifying, because I was one of 'those' teens, the type who loathed being a teenager, who saw their teenage years as something to be endured rather than celebrated, and looked upon graduating high school and subsequently, post secondary education, as an achievement best left in the archives, the attic of the brain, never disturbed by rational thought again.

I didn't peak in high school, I don't refer to my university/college days as 'the best of my life'. Anyone who talks about cheerleading and joining clubs in school can just keep on walkin'.

What DID surprise me about the many treatsies I read about "dear me" was how much women fixated on their looks, allowed it to define their early life (and continue to define their current life) and how little they discussed their actual accomplishments.

In case you're curious, I am not, and never will, write a "dear sixteen-year-old me" blog entry, letter, or journal rumination. I don't re-visit my teen years. Ever. But I will do a little spin on it. After all, I have lots to tell myself.

So without further delay...

Dear thirty-six-thirty-seven-thirty-eight-year-old Me,

I know that there are many years and ages before this one that you thought were the hardest, the toughest, the most frightening. And I'm sorry you were wrong. They were hard in different ways, the way twenty-four was after the robbery and that break-up that sucked.

And different from the way twenty-eight was with its punishing heartbreak.
Different, even, from those endless teen years where all you did was wish you were someone else, somewhere else.

You'll wish you were somewhere else this year too. But you'll stick with it.

Here's some short-range stuff:

Family Day, February, 2010 will be the last time you will have your whole family at your loft for a meal. You will grill chicken on the roof before everyone gets there, and your Mom, Dad, and sister will love the lunch you make. You will sit at the dining room table together in your loft, just the four of you, the way it's been all your life, and that will be the last time. It will be such a nice day. You will hold this memory forever.

Enjoy that Chicago trip, it will be the last piece of fun before you get some really really bad news. In that hotel room, you will feel a powerful intuition. It is sending you a message. Listen to it.

May 2010 is going to suck, that's all I can tell you. Listen to your Aunt's advice, as she is the person who is going to get you through this period. Her most sage saying will be this:

"Be still".

You will remember this and keep it within you at the most difficult points over the next three months. It's not just your Dad's cancer diagnosis that is going to make these few months extremely hard, but also a major betrayal by someone you trust.

The times you walk to Princess Margaret hospital to visit your Dad during evening chemo will be special for both of you. It is high summer, gorgeous weather, and the hospital has a rooftop garden that you will return to in memory alot. It's a place of peace. One evening you will go down to the hospital cafeteria and get your Dad some tomato soup with crackers to crush into it. He will enjoy this meal immensely. File this away. It will make you appreciate how wonderful eating is, and you will never again be as particular about your food.

You will change through this. It will be painful, and amazing, as all the biggest things in life are.

You will make a pivotal phone call one late night in June. You will spend many late nights this fateful summer on the phone with this person. You will ask yourself if you are falling in love.

You are.

You will plan a vacation at the end of the summer, and at the time it just seems like something to do to get out of your head. It will be much more than that. In Central Park, you will see a man whom you are certain is an angel. Pay attention. This is your next warning.

Your Dad's prognosis will be looking good when you get back from this trip. You will be wary and worried. Before long, your intuition will be proven right.

You're going to get the flu at the end of the year and your New Year's Eve will be protracted by this. You will go a month without seeing your parents in the new year as you are too sick to be around them. You won't know why this is important yet.

If there is one point I will underscore continuously it's this: you must trust yourself even when your life seems to be breaking apart--something keeps guiding you.

Journal 113 Post (game) Mortem

It's a rainy Monday, after all the excitement of football, leisure time, and general 'do-nothing' spirit of the weekend, today feels like a HUGE let down.

I started my Monday early, as usual, and I had a meeting downtown first thing in the morning.

I'd listened, halfway only, really, to the weather report on the AM station that wakes me via clock radio and since I still can't hear out of my right ear (the Cold to end all Colds) I only heard the part about "plus four" and I perked right up, planning an outfit for work that did not involve winter boots, a blazer/jacket, or sweater. One light Cardigan coming right up. I didn't listen nor did I, in my mad Monday morning panic, look out the window once, so I didn't notice the pelting rain until I left my building. Sprinted to my car, madly dug out the file I needed for the meeting to have it handy when I arrived at the meeting and parked the car, and got re-drenched.

Monday mornings are never easy anyway, but this one seemed particularly dreary as I sat, no kidding, in complete gridlock trying to drive a few short blocks, swigging coffee out of my travel cup and cursing streetcars, pedestrians completely dressed in only black and grey, darting in front of cars (note: difficult to see through windows smeared with rain) and cops directing traffic around endless construction. I hated being in the city this morning, which made me sad, as on the weekends it's such a quiet, deserted place, for the most part, and I enjoy it so much.

Sunday nights require special handling in preparation for the next day. Meaning, I need to sleep, and I need to not wake up around 2am and stare at the clock, calculating out how little time I have left to sleep as I lie awake.

My usual route on a Sunday night is a sleeping pill, low dose, non-groggy the next morning, nothing crazy. However, since Christmas and the gift my mother got me of an herbal tea called "Dreamland" I only drink that. And it's insane. It's like taking some type of psychedelic. At first I thought it was called Dreamland because that's where it puts you. But I think that the name also reflects the screwed-up dreams you have (and remember) when you drink it. (like running a marathon vertically along a rain-drenched boulevard, that was last nights' or dreaming of people you haven't seen in ages, that was last week).

As I was emailing my friend L. today about it, I asked myself, How can I sleep less? And then the far more pressing question: How can I WANT to sleep less?
I noticed, when I was off, that I woke up at 7am everyday anyway, for the most part, and went to bed around 11pm every night. So what is different now? It's the same sleep time, it's the same everything time. I guess the commute plays its part too. I also did some quick 'quality of life' math and here's how it breaks down, during the week:

Work day: 9 hours

Sleep: 8 hours

Commute: 1.5 to 2 hours

Total: 18. 5 or 19 hours.

This leaves just over 5 hours a day to: cook meals, clean, shop for food, write emails, make calls, etc, etc, etc, you know, all that 'life' stuff, oh, and yes, spend time with Mike, while he is here.

It's dizzying. Add in tv watching, reading, getting ready for work and getting un-ready for work and I need to learn to not beat myself up so much for not getting it all done in that 2-day span known as "weekend". Not to forget blogging and writing, and reading other blogs (last week I stumbled across a 20-something who is writing a memoir about her cancer survival, which is great, except it has the word "charisma" in the title which horrified me. Also, I always think about what my mom says about writing a memoir under the age of 35, bare minimum. She's got a point. And as I've noted before, I have several 20-something bloggers I love and whose sites I continually return to, just to get a little pick-me-up, a reminder of how simple life used to be, but how complicated it seemed at the time.....).

Okay. That's it for today, another Monday. Munday it should be called. MUNDANE.

Journal 112 Just another weekend

I like to write about Sundays (my second favourite day of the week after Saturday) and as you know, list-making and questionnaire-filling-out-ing is my fall-back when I hit the wall, so to speak.

Today it's just "what I'm doing" (and not doing) this weekend and what I haven't done (have not done much today. Football looms).

What I've done so far today:

1. read Oprah mag fairly scrupulously. Martha Beck, in her column, talking about how we don't need to be like a terrier on coke to be happy. we can cultivate joy and happiness without running around stuffing it down people's throats (amen).

*remember--I follow Martha Beck like I am her disciple. after the burn-out column I allowed myself to keep sleeping when I needed to and not punish myself if I missed out on running because of it.

2. ate lunch, a leftover slice of pizza and some coffee, keeping in mind my friend Jillian's most recent blog, entitled "F*ck Calories". Oh how I agree with that slogan, that philosophy. Visit her blog, "Fat Girl in a Little Coat" to read more.

3. showered, complete with washing my hair, which I hadn't washed since Thursday. It was a static-ky mess, let me tell you. Drying it was a chore. It's sooo long again. I'm not complaining, just saying. I do love it. But it is work.

4. tried to upload wedding photos on facebook, on this blog. It's not working out too well. Sometimes the MAC thing frustrates me.

5. made coffee, two large cups. drank it.

6. talked to my mom (house sale fell through. More pending. Insanely frustrating but I am not fighting life right now--I'm just going along with the current).

Things I haven't done today:

1. I have not run. I managed 30 km so far this week, I'm tired, and when I awoke earlier, around 6am, I got up, took more Benelyn "all in one" (still sick) and went back to sleep. I put my phone on silence for all those up-with-their-kids at the crack of dawn friends who love to text at that hour. I'm glad I did.

2. left the house or gotten dressed. Put my pajamas back on after the shower, looked curiously outside, tied my robe tighter and poured more coffee. It's now 3 pm, time for the first football game. Ordinarily I would be berating myself for laziness. But I'm way past all that. I filled in the marriage paperwork (not sure what to do with it--mail it off? Service Ontario confused me). I have shower thank yous that I have to find addresses for. I have wedding thank you cards that need to be filled out, and photos that need to be printed. I think all of that is going to have to wait. Mike and I went to the St. Lawrence market yesterday, late in the day, so there's lots of food choices here for dinner. I haven't got to the bank either.

Oh well.

3. All of the above.

4. made the bed (just noticed Mike made it).

5. washed the dishes or done laundry (did both yesterday. I'm not usually like this).

What I did yesterday:

1. Ran 10 km despite the chill outside and a very undesirable surface underfoot. I turned on my foot at one point at a curb, avoiding a stroller. Could have been alot worse. My other foot is sore today though and I do have to keep an eye on it.

2. Went to the market with Mike just as it was closing. Ended up with some great cheap sushi, great cheap vegetables, steak for tonight, fish for last night.

3. Made it to church prior to mass. I haven't been to church in an embarassingly long time. As Mike says "Church is a state of mind" which is true, and a very comforting thought, but I love my church (St. Paul's Basilica). It's beautiful, awe-inspiring, and it always brings me back into the centre of myself. I specifically went to light a candle for an anniversary, and it was then, as I lit several, that I hadn't lit one for my Dad in a long time. Because I don't think I'd been to church since the summer. Wow. A very long time.

I also noticed that the church has a new statue, of John Paul II, a bronze bust by a Dutch artist who depicted him on one side as a young pope, then on the other side in his final years. It was incredibly detailed and beautiful, and the write-up underneath it was very poignant, encouraging the viewer of the statue to kneel before it and experience the reverence. I'm not sure if the statue is permanent or if it is on loan, but I'm glad I got to see it. As L'Engle wrote in the Summer of the Great-Grandmother, God does wander after spending a period of time with us sometimes.

I don't mean this to be a 'religious' post, but it was something I'd been wanting to do, get to church, and it has maybe enabled me to 'just be' today. Instead of 'doing' all the time. Just being can be so under-rated.

4. Visited my sister and niece and nephew, specifically to dye my sister's hair.

5. Made a nice dinner with Mike and thoroughly enjoyed Saturday without work thoughts invading and ruining it. I could stress about work 24/7 and it is my goal (I don't make resolutions) to continue to force work to take up less and less of my mental time. Also, Scarface was on. We watched it, again (one of those movies that for sets, costumes, and music, it wins in all categories for me). Also, Wedding Crashers. Mike and I critiqued it. It's okay. I've seen it before. It's no Raising Arizona, which we watched Friday night, before I fell asleep, but it was sort of funny. Raising Arizona was priceless, one of Mike's favourites and he basically recited it. Watching that was funny too.

Alright. I can also add "finishing a blog post" (albeit without pictures since I can't load anything) to today's "done" list.

To Do list:

1. Marriage license -send in stuff.

2. Banking

3. Thank you cards so people don't think I fell off the face of the earth.

4. Correspondence for the same reason as # 3.

5. Possibly leave the house

6. Print photos

7. Do some serious scrapbooking. I was emailing my friend L. and lamenting how she was such a great help in motivating me to do this. I must self-motivate (not my strong point today).

Okay the game is starting. Maybe more later. (maybe not).

Happy Saturday, Sunday, Weekend.

ps I managed to write this post with Mike talking to me. I consider this progress. I even answered him a few times.

Journal 111 Vanity, Fair Enough

The Proust Questionnaire.
I ask myself (while reading it) are they given a time limit of ridiculous proportions to complete this in, is this why some of them sound so so stupid? Or is it just (my general opinion) that alot of actors of 'our' generation are vapid and thoughtless? Maybe the money got to them.
Either way. Be creative!
Here goes my try!

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Being independently wealthy and never having to worry about money again, writing at home, all day, in my pajamas.

What is your greatest fear?
That the above answer to the first question might not happen. Not really my GREATEST fear, but it's the greatest fear I have related to my 'number one need'.

Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Any misunderstood woman.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Impatience.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Lying. Sense of own importance. Arrogance.

What is your greatest extravagance?
Chardonnay.

What is your favorite journey?
Driving to Maine.

What do you dislike most about your appearance?
I originally skipped this question. It's so vain.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
"Who's kidding who?" (my husband recently pointed this out. It's true. I even WRITE it alot...)

What is your greatest regret?
Not having a child at age 20 or 21. Of course I can say that NOW as I look back on life. Not so easy to just do it then....

What or who is the greatest love of your life?
In the "who", my husband, hands down. In the "what" category I put running, food, wine, art, and writing in no particular order.

When and where were you happiest?
My wedding day, January 3rd, 2012.
Running in Central Park, New York City, September 2010.
Having dinner with a good friend at a favourite restaurant, anytime, any where.

The births of my niece and nephew.

Which talent would you most like to have?
To sit down and write a novel, start to finish, perfectly crafted with what I want to say, in under a year. And have it sell well!

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Controlling my temper over the years.

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
I hope to live on in a beautiful afterlife and be an accessory to earth for a long long time. I don't really want to come back.

What is your most treasured possession?
I don't treasure possessions really, but my book collection is the closest I come.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Loss of hope. Grief over a loved one.

Where would you like to live?
Out of the city.

What is your favorite occupation?
Reading memoirs. Listneing intently to a new idea. Dining out.

What is your most marked characteristic?
Seriousness mixed with humour.

What is the quality you most like in a man?
Insight.

What do you most value in your friends?
Loyalty.

Who are your favorite writers?
George Orwell, Mary Karr, those brave enough to write honest memoirs.

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Winston Smith of 1984.

Who are your heroes in real life?
Anyone who can pull it off on their own.

What are your favorite names?
Ones that stand out.

What is it that you most dislike?
The feeling that bad luck is not equally distributed.

How would you like to die?
Quietly, without suffering.

What is your motto?
I quote John Dunne: "It all evens out in the end."