|
|
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Trypped UpYours truly has officially made her own, full holiday dinner - complete with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes (of the regular and sweet variety), baked veggies, and stuffed peppers and cannelloni to boot. It was a meal fit for at least ten, but only six were seated at the table. Results? A fabulous meal, a girl who is a little less afraid of washing a turkey inside and out, and lots of leftovers. My gift to myself this year is this mantra: Eat Positively, Think Healthily. So, I went and purchased myself a membership to the local hot yoga studio with the hopes that I will help my body better itself. I want to be stronger, more capable; I want to feel more able in general, physically and mentally. Also, nothing feels better to me than a good sweat and my goodness, doing 90 minutes of yoga in a 40-something degree room is definitely the way of going about sweating out those toxins. I'm going to a class per day for the next week as an intro, and after just two of them, I can definitely feel the changes. The big one being that I'm aching all over. So between eating turkey for three days straight and doing yoga that makes my muscles feel like screaming into oblivion (omg, will I ever walk again?!), I can't tell if it's the tryptophan or the exercise or the 3:30am nights that's making me feel like sleeping in until at least noon and then taking a nap at 6pm. Either way, I could live like this for a while.
7:17 pm
Monday, December 22, 2008
Oh, BrotherLike with the rest of my family members, my brother and I have gone through varying levels of love and hate with each other. Up until our double digits, he and I were BFF - mainly because we were only a year apart and didn't have a lot of other choices. I'd like to think that he had a certain reverence for me, being his big sister and all, but it was all probably because if he didn't play with me, he didn't play at all. So all the games were my choosing: we wrapped ourselves in my parents' bedsheets and played Fashion Show on their big bed, we set up my Barbie kitchen and played, well, Barbie Kitchen. Every now and then we'd play House, Camping, Race Car, and if he was lucky, Nintendo. But I saw that he was quickly getting better than me and at that point I only agreed to play if he let me win; if he didn't, I'd cry and not play again. So, he let me win. I admit it. I was a crappy big sister. Then, when the hormones hit, we were total enemies. He soon realized that a one year age difference does not a big-sister-worthy-of-respect make. We'd get into these awful fights where we'd yell and scream at each other until our parents burst in and tore us apart. He once wrote all over my diary, so I ripped up his swimming certificates in retaliation. We'd hit, punch and kick. Another time, we beat each other with our mini pool sticks until they both snapped in half. This was all before we finished elementary school. Thank goodness we went to different high schools. I was in the gifted program, worked on the yearbook, joined band and every club imaginable. He did poorly in school, got into fights, went to raves and hot-boxed in my bathroom. I suppose I started to love him again - in a different, more mature way - when I left home to go to university. It also helped that during that time he grew up and did a little maturing of his own. Nowadays, he's the one I go to when I have questions about things I don't understand. We ask each other's advice before making important decisions. He meets my boyfriends before my parents do. I find the most joy in picking out his birthday and Christmas presents. He spent an hour showing me his new cell phone and shows me new games that he knows I would love on his Nintendo DS. He's my emergency contact when I fill out forms. He knocked on my door when he realized I had slept in on my first day of work (and then drove me to the subway station to save me time). He was the first person I called when I lost control of the car this morning and smashed into a snowbank. After dinner tonight, I spent about an hour perfecting a giant bowl of guacamole for my potluck lunch at work tomorrow. When I was done, I set up a platter with a little bowl in the middle with guac, and I meticulously spread out a handful of our favourite Triscuits (black pepper & olive oil) around it for dipping. I excitedly went upstairs and knocked on his door. In all honesty, I could not wait for him to try my famous guacamole. I knew he would love it. I wanted him to see the special platter I made. "Yeah?" "Can I come in?" "Well, what is it?" "I just finished making my guacamole and I have some here for you." "Can we come down and get it later?" "Oh, okay. Yeah, sure, I'll just put it on the counter. Just come down ...quick. Before it goes brown." "Okay, thanks." My heart sank. He didn't want my guac. He was probably making out with his girlfriend. Sigh. Oh, brother.
10:04 pm
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Girl TalkYesternight, for the first time since I started my new job two weeks ago, I was happy as I commuted home. It was due in part to the fact that I had just finished the bulk of my Christmas shopping, and that I had Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas blasting on the radio. (I sang along very loudly.) Tonight, on the TWO AND A HALF hour drive home, I felt far less than festive. Homo-sui-cidal was more like it. Seriously, people. I have a two hour commute home after work (mornings are usually about an hour, but STILL). Rush hour sucks. I want my life back. Wasting three to four hours on the road driving to and from work every day does mean, however, that I have strong reasons for wanting to move out (public transit takes two hours too, blech). Truthfully, I was looking at listings in the city on the Sunday night before my first day. Surprisingly though, I have not felt extremely uncomfortable since I've moved back in full-time with my family. My stuff has all been here since April, but I've been on the move so that I've spent at most three or four consecutive days here since the spring. I think my mentality is that I've been away for so long that being here again is almost sort of novel. I've enjoyed spending weekends with my family, I want to have dinner with my parents, and I sit to watch the news with them if I'm not too crabby after work. I'm hoping these feelings last because I know they will so not take the news well when I express that I want to move out. I give it six months to a year. The warm, fuzzy feelings may also be due to the fact that it is the holidays and, unlike last year (and the several years before that), I'm hoping not to feel too cold and prickly. Hrm, I may need more wine... I am excited for this weekend though - it's Nutcracker time! I'm glad that this is one tradition I've managed to keep despite the fact that it was started with an ex-boyfriend five years ago. Dinner, ballet, dancing... Tanya and are going to glam up and hit the town with fanciness all around. For the first time in a really, really long time, I'm not waiting for school or exams to finish before I'm officially on holidays. I'm just waiting for the office to close. My last day is going to involve a gift exchange and a potluck lunch, so that's exciting. I'm bringing my guacamole to the little par-tay and hopefully it'll be a hit. I actually made guacamole the other night and I minced so many cloves of garlic that the fingers on my left hand still smell like garlic. I've showered, washed my hands countless times, have applied perfume and lotions and still: GARLIC. Gross. I probably should have volunteered to bring something else. I've taken a couple glimpses into the crystal ball that is my life lately and I'm not loving what I see (commute, work, eat, work, commute, eat, sleep, repeat). The thing I'm most looking forward to in 2009 is yoga.
9:09 pm
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Say What You Need To SayLast night at 2:30am...I can't sleep. Admittedly, it's not like I've tried very hard, but I can feel it inside, that my body doesn't want to sleep yet. I honestly don't know what it wants to do right now, well, maybe I have a slight idea, but sleep isn't it. There's too much going on in my head. And when it's your head that's awake, not even warm milk can help. I want to talk to my best friends, but it's almost 2:30am now and I'm really missing the days when I lived with Tanya and I could crawl into her room at nights when I couldn't sleep. She'd stay up with me and we'd talk until the morning light. I tried to start reading a new book to relax, get my mind on something else, but I didn't make it past the intro. I'm trying to remember that I have to get up early because I promised my family that I'd make breakfast for everyone tomorrow morning. And I'm learning more and more that it is very, very important to keep the promises you make. --- I'm feeling vaguely unsettled. Not sure what's eating me either. Well, I suppose that's not entirely true. I've always been fairly intuitive, but knowing what's bugging me and not knowing what to do about it isn't exaclty as helpful as those knowing-is-half-the-battle folks say. My colposcopy/biopsy has been on my mind since Wednesday because my lady-part-innards are still recovering. I'll probably be on eggshells until late January when I find out results because this is the last test that I'm going to do. After this, it's "treatment" - if I need it, which I hopefully won't. Talk about ringing in the new year... And then there's matters of the heart. Oh, it's true (again - not that it ever stops), I'm suffering from something over here, even if it is just mild naivete. It seems that I am still master of the artless simplicity of unrequited love after all these years. And I thought it was something I was going to outgrow, like puberty or an old t-shirt. If only. I haven't slept very much the last couple of nights - I've been up late reading things that lead to remembering things I purposely have not thought about in a long time. Perhaps it was due to a deep curiosity, or just temporary insanity, but I actually spent my first waking hours on Saturday morning reading through the journal I kept when The Badness happened four years ago. I wanted to see how I got better, how I had gotten over it, if there were any techniques I used, or if there was a shift in paradigm after a while. To a bit of surprise, there was nothing concrete in there except total and utter soul-emptying sadness. My god, it was draining to read through that stuff (note to self: do not do that again). I don't know what I was thinking, that there'd be a 12 step program I went through, that there would be one entry in which everything changed and I was happy again? I had to shake my head at myself afterwards. Oh, the price I paid for my curiosity. This is so one of those times when I feel like I have a lot to say, but have no way of saying it. Dammit, language! How limited you are.
10:36 pm
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
In The Spirit Of Positive Thinking, And Hoping, And Praying...Tomorrow I am going to do something that has become fairly routine this past year or so. I'm going to the hospital to get a colposcopy. Wiki says that, "The main goal of colposcopy is to prevent cervical cancer by detecting precancerous lesions early and treating them", which I'm sure is true, BUT I ask: what qualifies as early? Because I've been doing these colposcopies and tests and biopsies for almost exactly two years now and personally, I don't think that TWO YEARS LATER still means "early." Just sayin'. I've subscribed to a fatalistic approach in life for a while now; I accept things that happen simply as things that were meant to happen. But that has never stopped me from wishing, hoping, praying for an outcome that I'd prefer. And tomorrow, you can bet that I'm going to have every cell in my body poised towards NOTHING BAD.
11:50 pm
Monday, December 08, 2008
In RetrospectIn trying to pack for a week in Cancun, I found myself sitting at the computer browsing the Internets in search of something to do. Something other than packing. My bag was almost full, but my bed was still scattered with things that needed to go in. Books, my hair straightener, make up bag, 2 out of 5 pairs of shoes, camera, sunglasses.... I found that when I hit a snag (ie: should I put each pair of shoes into plastic bags so they don't get scratched/scratch other things?) I just gave up entirely. Hence, me sitting at the computer screen. I'm sooo one of those people that hates to pack and loves to unpack. My mum just brought in some of the laundry that had finally finished drying and it reminded me of what a zealous over-packer I've become... Brought: 10 pairs of earrings Wore: 5 Brought: 6 pairs of shoes (for a week, I KNOW - didn't I just say overzealous?) Wore: 5 (not bad, eh?) Brought: 3.5 bathing suits/bikinis (the .5 is a mix 'n match top) Wore: 2 Brought: close to 15 tops, 2 skirts, 4 pairs of shorts, 3 dresses, etc. Wore: the same damn two outfits for 5 days (thank goodness we went out at nights or else I never would have changed) Brought: 2 romance novels Read: 0 (I read my Spanish phrasebook or just lay to the sound of the surf) Brought: 0 conch shells Now own: 1 conch shell (that I can blow into a la Lord of the Flies!) To sound like a broken record: I miss Mexico.
8:52 pm
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Hello Almost AdulthoodI am an odd combination of needfully attached and terribly neglectful. I have posts from all the different places I've been the last few weeks because everywhere I go I want to stop and say Hello! to everyone, but they all sit in Draft form because I haven't actually sat myself down to write anything out in full. In short, I think of things often and rarely do anything about them. Fabulous. My tour to Philly and DC was unfortunately the most stressful four days I've had in a while. It's too bad that it was my last one in a while and was just about the second worst tour I've ever had - through no fault of my own, just circumstances out of my control (see: myself and the driver being not entirely familiar with the area, a broken bus, terrible timing, etc). Now to think of it, this tour was not unlike most tours that I lead. I have no idea how I won the Tour Leader of the Year award last season, no idea at all. Suffice to say, by the time I went to Cancun, I was SO READY. I could not have looked forward to a week of beach and booze more. We lazed around a lot, had beers and pina coladas at 10am, lay on the beach, ate at buffets all week, took the bus down the road and went to another beach, had booze on the bus, booze on the beach, booze on the boat... booze wherever you wanted it! Even at the eco-zoo-park where we wandered around lizards, noisy-ass macaws, orchids and edible mushrooms that grew out of plastic bags with a can in our hand. Got to go snorkeling and see Chichen Itza too, something I've been wondering about since I was 16 years old. Ate lots of Mexican food. Got lots of sun (my back is peeling nicely). Spoke Spanish again. I loved Mexico. It suited me. Also, I was sick immediately before and after Cancun, so it's obvious what my body is trying to tell me. I just wish I could make it better without purchasing a plane ticket. Also, so much for the job-less non-student lifestyle. While I was finishing up with Philly/DC, I got a job offer (with my tour company). And I took it. So, upon landing in T.O. on Sunday aft, I went home and immediately started prepping for my life as a working stiff for I was to start work on Monday morning. My tour to NYC got given to someone else - don't even get me started because I found out afterwards that the NYC tour had WICKED and a BROADWAY WORKSHOP in the itinerary - I KNOW. Plus, it's also New York. I was so sad. Dang, a lot can change in a week, huh? I went from taking random tours that got handed to me to working full-time in a high-rise office building. I have a desk, phone extension, work email and security pass card all on the 18th floor and everything. And now, after my first week of work, I can say that I am indeed working, stiffly. My commute is two hours one-way and I have bid adieu to the sun because I get on the transit system (underground) before it rises and I emerge from it after work after it sets. I suspect I'll see the sun again around... May. My first week really wore me out and I am still getting used to the idea that I have about three hours of free time after work (I get in at about 7pm and am in bed around 10pm because I'm up at 5:45am!). Throw in dinner, a shower and packing lunch for the next day and I've got about an hour and a half left. With regards to the job itself, I'm lucky to be working in a fairly laid back and fun environment (we are in the tourism industry), but I have yet to find real direction and figure out exactly what it is that I'm (supposed to be) doing... it'll take some time before I fully warm up to everything I think. It's not my dream job (yet?), and I'm not saving the planet or curing cancer, but I'm hoping that one day this'll become something that I love. Well, in the spirit of positive thinking, here's to a good indefinite amount of time in the office. Cheers! In other news, I'm an adult now. This past week I signed a contract for a full-time, permanent position and then I filled out benefits forms that included life insurance. Before this month, I have never had to use the words "salary" and "benefits" in relation to myself (also: negotiating is not fun). I had my first company Christmas party on Friday night (thank you alcohol for socially lubricating me). Oh, and I also have a cell phone. Like, legitimately. I went and read up on plans and then purchased one. First cell phone at 24. Not bad. Sigh. I really miss Mexico. Well, here's to another week....
9:15 pm
|
