Posted in Family, Internet, Uncategorized, Weight

Thinking Out Loud

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I was never particularly a girlie-girl, despite my mother’s valiant attempts.
You know the drill, cute, bright dresses and outfits (my Mom sewed), sometimes sleeping with curlers or rags in my long chestnut hair, and of course, hair decorations and thingamabobs (bows, ribbons, and remember that yarn in our pigtails?).
It didn’t take.
I wasn’t exactly a tomboy either.
Just a girl, who grew, slowly, into a woman.
My favourite colour now is black (yes, I’m aware it’s not actually a colour; black objects absorb all the colours of the visible spectrum and reflect none of them to the eyes, but humour me). My hair is a sexy (sure, ok) bob, though enduring the awkward process of growing out decades of hair dye. Not a ribbon or bow in sight.

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My friends were an intriguing mixture of girlie and not-so-girlie, but we all had one thing in common, we were obsessed with one thing: numbers. Bra size. When we got our first period. How long each period was. How many days between periods. Weight. Height. Phone numbers. How many boys you’d kissed, or wanted to kiss, or who wanted to kiss you.
Oh yes, and occasionally grades in school slipped into that all important number cluster. It was all a numbers game.

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From this angle, at this age, those numbers now seem adorable.
Reaching numbers in the 40s or 50s? You might as well have said I’d be driving a flying car, or getting my supper from a food replicator.
Those numbers were Sci-Fi.
Now they’re Non-Fiction.

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For decades I’ve ridden the roller-coaster of confidence.
High up, I throw my hands in the air, tasting the ripe plum of thrills; believing I’d made the right choice…knowing I could do anything I put my mind to.

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Big bro was stylin’ too.

Then racing down, down, down to  uncertain, overwhelmed, unsure.
My brain screaming, even if it never reaches my lips.
The sense that I could achieve being mercilessly pummeled by doubt.
Fear whipping cruelly at my hair.
Procrastination punching relentlessly at my gut.
The bar that should be protecting me from falling instead holds me in.
I chase challenges, but crash, tumble, fail to engage. The risks are too big. Too scary.
What if I disappoint?
What if I impress and can’t do it again?

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Does everyone ride this roller-coaster, or do they ride the Ferris wheel, a perfect circle of confidence, around and around? Maybe they’re just better at faking it.

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Groovy Christmas morning with Mrs. Beasley!

I don’t want to be the heroine or the victim in my story, just the writer. The writer who has snacks. Tasty snacks. Maybe a comfy chair or couch. And the ability to share her story.

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A writer and her tasty snacks.

The internet has helped spread that story. I love the internet, it connects people in ways never, ever imagined. And if you don’t have anyone to argue with, just express an opinion then…wait. And watch some cat videos.

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A feeling of lassitude, tedium, ennui grips me. The usual stuff isn’t doing it for me. I have battled the demons of depression and anxiety, unashamed; their claws rake at me, their teeth snap at me, bloody, but not broken, I go on.

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This seems like something else, could it be boredom? I hope not. Not my best state. It’s destructive. Causing zoning out, not caring, not engaging, or looking for routes to relieve that boredom, usually with negative consequences.

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Boredom doesn’t have to always be bad. It can cause ignition. Spark. My boredom doesn’t feel like a visit from apathy, or its twin, indifference.

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I’m not feeling particularly restrained or confined, no more than usual.

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I feel thoughts wandering to ways to ease this blanket of boredom. So could this be the searching type of boredom? Looking for something. Open to new possibilities, positive changes? Could anticipation, expectation be masquerading as boredom?

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My Grandma would’ve said I should pull up my bootstraps. But what if those straps are so worn, so frayed…just about to snap? She’d probably tell me to dig deeper and pull harder. I’m trying, Grandma.

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First and last time I looked like a bride.

Each person that crosses your path, friend or foe or otherwise, teaches you something. But what? That you should meet fewer people? Or the person that crossed your path, the person that taught you the most, should have been you. Maybe it was. Is. Should be.

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Posted in Canada, Family, Food, Movies, Music, Political, Televison, Uncategorized, Zombies

10 Ways To Be Grateful Even On Bad Days

1grateful1Life is full of good things and bad things.

Sometimes good things go bad.

Sometimes bad things go good.

Sometimes a bit of both.

The good stuff doesn’t always make the bad stuff easier to take, but the bad stuff doesn’t always ruin the good stuff either.

We should try to be grateful for the good stuff, especially when there’s bad stuff.

We Could Be Grateful For:

1. Family and friends. The memory of family and friends. The possibility of family and friends.

2. Knowledge, free will, and finding respectful ways to agree to disagree.

3. Enjoying what you have, instead of always thinking about what you want.

4. Remembering both the good times and the bad – and not living in either.

5. Enjoying the everyday things. Life isn’t about the big moments.

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6. Finding happiness, peace, or contentment, especially by making others happy, peace-filled, or contented.

7. Life and knowing that most people know it’s worth.

8. Being you. Don’t compare yourself to others.

9. Bad times, so you can appreciate the good times.

10. Giving – stuff, time, comfort, inspiration, hope, information…you.

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Terror, in many forms has wormed it’s way into our lives, not just with violence, but with weapons such as: fear, rudeness, abuse, inequality, neglect, distractions, complacency, disrespect, self-righteousness, ignorance, intolerance, lying, scandal, gossip, corruption, manipulation, dogma, bullying, blame, and all those ‘gotcha’ moments.

We can change. Some will say we can’t, or worse, that’s just the way it is. Expect change. Be that change.

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People can disagree, debate, wrangle, bicker, even argue, hopefully respectfully.
There’s also no need to agree, you have the right to disagree, again, respectfully.
Attacking anyone, verbally or physically, for their beliefs is pointless.
We can’t overcome hate with hate.
We can’t win by fighting.

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Even if you feel hate, choose love or at least, forgiveness.

Even if you feel indifference, choose compassion.

Especially if you feel despair, choose hope.

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I worry being ‘shocked’ every time something terrible happens, posting platitudes, changing profile pictures, holding vigils, leaving tokens, decrying the monsters, and placing blame gives the illusion of doing something when really, it’s mostly shopping, social media, socializing, and symbolism.

Wouldn’t it be more comforting to help those in need? To donate food, clothing, money for shelter and medical care instead of making piles of flowers, candles, stuffed animals, and flags that will just become garbage? I don’t understand, if we want to show respect why not help those who are still alive and suffering?

We need to find out how to change what’s happening, or brace ourselves for more of the same, or worse. The first rule of holes, when you’re in one, stop digging, and try to find a way out.

What’s coming will come, so instead of focusing on those who do harm, who spread fear and hate, let’s be grateful for those who help, who protect – those who do good in this world. They deserve our focus, not just after a tragedy, or crisis, or disaster, but all the time.

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My heart goes out to the family and friends of those who have lost loved ones, death is tragic, no matter the circumstances…and to anyone suffering, everywhere.

Posted in Books, Family, Movies, Music, Televison, Uncategorized

10 Signs You Might Be Living

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1. You notice people you care about seem to be taken from you way, way too soon, while those that make you miserable seem to last forever and ever and ever.

2. You hear and read words like friendship and love, they’re thrown around constantly, but you also know if you really feel them, you show them.

3. You begin to realize you can’t change people. You either accept them for who they are…or don’t.

4. You understand that no matter how we feel or what you’re going through, we’re still responsible for what you say and do.

5. You recognize that people look at the exact same thing and see something totally different. No two people read the same book, listen to the same song, watch the same TV show or movie, feel the same pain or joy, walk down the same path, or hear the same things.loss16. You feel how your heart can be broken into a million torn, anguished bleeding pieces, yet the world doesn’t stop for your sorrow or grief.

7. You’re aware something you do in an instant can change your life forever, good or bad.money3

8. You realize no one is responsible for your happiness. Make yourself happy, then add people to your mix.

9. You appreciate that people are users, it’s human nature. Some use and are used for money, others for love, comfort, power, control. Just be aware if the using is making you sad, or resentful, sucking your energy, it’s toxic, move on.

10. You know you can keep going long after you think you can’t.