my fear of commitment gets stronger as i get older. i first started talking about it as a joke, almost to disuade people from talking about my singleness. but now i think i'm not really joking. the fact that i can't even commit to a 2 year cell phone contract with a company i've been with for over 12 years makes me laugh.
i'm getting anxious about welcoming a new dog into my little pack. the Lunatic is really starting to bond with me. she's playful, affectionate and sassy. i'm afraid that bringing a new dog into the mix is going to erase all of that progress. but my friends with two or more dogs assure me that this is the right thing to do.
doesn't make it any less scary. at least i have an escape clause.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Fatigues
My medical healer told me that in one of my past lives, I was fighting in a war and was shot down in an air balloon. One of the psychics I went to also told me that in one of my past lives, I was a soldier.
If this is true, it explains my obsession with wearing army green when it clearly does not look good on me, and my love of red poppy flowers.
I'm currently looking for an original painting (oil, preferrably) of a red poppy field. I saw one at an art gallery near my work but was too scared of the price to go in and look at it more closely. I didn't need to go in, really. I saw how beautiful it was from the window.
Fast forward to my browsing on my favorite waste of time and money, etsy.com, and I found a painting. It's only $245 and it's an original. I found a similar one, larger, for $345 by another artist. Ever since Mon told me about her original oil, I've been thinking that I should invest in an original painting, but I wasn't sure what to buy. I like to buy art that reflects me as a person, but I feel like a fraud when I think of putting paintings of a Parisienne patisserie or ballet dancers on my wall. They're beautiful, but they represent more of what I want to be rather than what I am. There is something to be said about the projection of an idea yielding its reality, but if it doesn't feel like who you are at your core, there's no point.
Red poppies are at my core. I can feel them.
If this is true, it explains my obsession with wearing army green when it clearly does not look good on me, and my love of red poppy flowers.
I'm currently looking for an original painting (oil, preferrably) of a red poppy field. I saw one at an art gallery near my work but was too scared of the price to go in and look at it more closely. I didn't need to go in, really. I saw how beautiful it was from the window.
Fast forward to my browsing on my favorite waste of time and money, etsy.com, and I found a painting. It's only $245 and it's an original. I found a similar one, larger, for $345 by another artist. Ever since Mon told me about her original oil, I've been thinking that I should invest in an original painting, but I wasn't sure what to buy. I like to buy art that reflects me as a person, but I feel like a fraud when I think of putting paintings of a Parisienne patisserie or ballet dancers on my wall. They're beautiful, but they represent more of what I want to be rather than what I am. There is something to be said about the projection of an idea yielding its reality, but if it doesn't feel like who you are at your core, there's no point.
Red poppies are at my core. I can feel them.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Absent but not gone
I can't believe that February was my last post. And it was about boredom. It actually wasn't half bad.
I'm not writing today because I'm bored, nor am I writing to report anything. I just thought I'd write.
I turned 35 three weeks ago. I can't remember what last year's lesson was. Maybe if I went back into previous posts, I could glean exactly what I learned as at my 34th birthday. But this year, I think I've finally come to realize that everyone's life is different and that just because you're not on the same path, it doesn't mean you're lost (thank you to his Holiness, the Dalai Lama, for that thought!).
I spent yesterday at my cousin's house for what would've been my Lola's 91st birthday (or 90th - no one really knows for sure). There were some relatives that hadn't been over in awhile and so we all got to catch up with them. Then came the uncomfortable part of the evening when those relatives who haven't seen us in awhile start to catch up on all the cousins' lives. Oh, where are you working now? Oh, that's your new husband? Oh, you're living on your own? Oh, when are you due? I knew what question was coming up for me and with my mom sitting in the room, and being with relatives who were going to become grandparents for the first time within the next three months (one being my cousin, who is only 47), I felt a pang of guilt. Just a pang. Not a sharp stab when the blow is cast, but definitely a pang that lingers long after attention is focused onto someone else.
My uncle started in on me about who I was dating. When I said no one, he said, "Oh, lots of boyfriends then." And I said, "No, not one and not many." Then the "why not" question. And then the "what about children" question. I guiltily stole a glance over at my mom, who was busy wiping her glasses clean of spots that weren't there to begin with. Pang.
I didn't want to get into a philosophical discussion about boyfriends and marriage and children, at least not with my drunk uncle. But no one came to my rescue either. Usually one person says, "Oh, it'll happen - don't worry about that." I guess at 35, no one really hopes for you anymore, at least not out loud.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not feeling sorry for myself. That's not a life I feel I need to have right now. But I do feel sorry for my parents, who I know desperately want grandchildren, but who continue to wait with forced patience. I feel sorry for my mom whose own sister tells her she knows nothing about raising children because she doesn't have grandchildren. I feel sorry for my dad, who dutifully comes to my place everyday to walk my dog, when he really wants to be changing his grandchild's diaper. But when it is instilled in you, through words, through actions, or through observation of someone else's trial and error, that you should not settle and that you should not do things because other people expect you to do them, then conforming with society's standard becomes very hard to do.
I have thought about having a kid on my own - Lord knows my parents would be there to help with childcare. But to have a child for someone else's satisfaction is not the answer. I know enough people who have had a child, planned or otherwise, who rely on other people to raise it while they continue on with their pre-baby lives. Not fair to the parents, both new and old, and most certainly not fair to the baby, who didn't ask to be born in the first place.
I have no way of ending this entry, because it's the middle of an on-going story.
I'm not writing today because I'm bored, nor am I writing to report anything. I just thought I'd write.
I turned 35 three weeks ago. I can't remember what last year's lesson was. Maybe if I went back into previous posts, I could glean exactly what I learned as at my 34th birthday. But this year, I think I've finally come to realize that everyone's life is different and that just because you're not on the same path, it doesn't mean you're lost (thank you to his Holiness, the Dalai Lama, for that thought!).
I spent yesterday at my cousin's house for what would've been my Lola's 91st birthday (or 90th - no one really knows for sure). There were some relatives that hadn't been over in awhile and so we all got to catch up with them. Then came the uncomfortable part of the evening when those relatives who haven't seen us in awhile start to catch up on all the cousins' lives. Oh, where are you working now? Oh, that's your new husband? Oh, you're living on your own? Oh, when are you due? I knew what question was coming up for me and with my mom sitting in the room, and being with relatives who were going to become grandparents for the first time within the next three months (one being my cousin, who is only 47), I felt a pang of guilt. Just a pang. Not a sharp stab when the blow is cast, but definitely a pang that lingers long after attention is focused onto someone else.
My uncle started in on me about who I was dating. When I said no one, he said, "Oh, lots of boyfriends then." And I said, "No, not one and not many." Then the "why not" question. And then the "what about children" question. I guiltily stole a glance over at my mom, who was busy wiping her glasses clean of spots that weren't there to begin with. Pang.
I didn't want to get into a philosophical discussion about boyfriends and marriage and children, at least not with my drunk uncle. But no one came to my rescue either. Usually one person says, "Oh, it'll happen - don't worry about that." I guess at 35, no one really hopes for you anymore, at least not out loud.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not feeling sorry for myself. That's not a life I feel I need to have right now. But I do feel sorry for my parents, who I know desperately want grandchildren, but who continue to wait with forced patience. I feel sorry for my mom whose own sister tells her she knows nothing about raising children because she doesn't have grandchildren. I feel sorry for my dad, who dutifully comes to my place everyday to walk my dog, when he really wants to be changing his grandchild's diaper. But when it is instilled in you, through words, through actions, or through observation of someone else's trial and error, that you should not settle and that you should not do things because other people expect you to do them, then conforming with society's standard becomes very hard to do.
I have thought about having a kid on my own - Lord knows my parents would be there to help with childcare. But to have a child for someone else's satisfaction is not the answer. I know enough people who have had a child, planned or otherwise, who rely on other people to raise it while they continue on with their pre-baby lives. Not fair to the parents, both new and old, and most certainly not fair to the baby, who didn't ask to be born in the first place.
I have no way of ending this entry, because it's the middle of an on-going story.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
boredom
i'm bored. i'm not even sure how it happened.
i haven't felt this bored since i was home over the Christmas break. i'm literally wandering from room to room, thinking about what to do.
i lie - i know how it happened. i remembered that Ballet BC was doing a performance tonight and i went online to see if i could find tickets as tonight was the last night of the show. there were still tickets left, even the cheapest ones, and i contemplated going alone. i decided to text Doc Tardy to see if she wanted to go but she already had plans. my mistake came when i decided that i shouldn't go, because i reminded myself that February was going to be the month i did not spend extraneously.
instead, i finished the book for my new book club (where we are only studying this one book) and then took some notes for our meeting tomorrow. and then, this overwhelming feeling over me - restlessness.
however, i also don't know what i feel like doing, or whether i even have the energy to do anything at all, which is making the boredom difficult to ease.
i considered stepping outside of my box and going to the pub down the street to get a bite to eat. and then i realized that it was a saturday night and i didn't really want to be that woman who went to a pub on a saturday night at 9 pm, alone. but i'm still hungry. and i have no good food in the house.
i listened to my Italian language CDs. i looked through my DVDs. i eyeballed my stacks of unread books. i already danced this morning while i was doing some chores so i don't feel like doing that again. i took the Lunatic for a walk in the cool, crisp air and she really wasn't that interested in it so i came back inside. i'm not tired enough to go to sleep.
i even thought of CALLING people. on the PHONE. THAT is how bored i am. instead, i turn to the only thing i know how to do when nothing else will do - write and overanalyze.
what is boredom? moreover, is this boredom i'm feeling, or is it something else entirely, like depression? does boredom stem from over-stimulation of the senses or from lack of motivation? what cures boredom for someone whose usual activities signal boredom to other people?
admittedly, i sent Crush a text to see what he was doing in the hopes that his answer would be nothing so i'd have an opening. but he said he was staying home with his housemate and watching a movie. he didn't mention what movie when i asked. i think it's porn. and i think he might be gay. but that's another post entirely.
anyway, back to my boredom. i don't even want to watch a movie or one of my favorite shows on DVD. i've been "fishing" for 30 minutes, and have cast out a few friendly nets just to see if i can get a bite, if you pick up what i'm layin' down.
it's 10:30. i'm going to bed.
i haven't felt this bored since i was home over the Christmas break. i'm literally wandering from room to room, thinking about what to do.
i lie - i know how it happened. i remembered that Ballet BC was doing a performance tonight and i went online to see if i could find tickets as tonight was the last night of the show. there were still tickets left, even the cheapest ones, and i contemplated going alone. i decided to text Doc Tardy to see if she wanted to go but she already had plans. my mistake came when i decided that i shouldn't go, because i reminded myself that February was going to be the month i did not spend extraneously.
instead, i finished the book for my new book club (where we are only studying this one book) and then took some notes for our meeting tomorrow. and then, this overwhelming feeling over me - restlessness.
however, i also don't know what i feel like doing, or whether i even have the energy to do anything at all, which is making the boredom difficult to ease.
i considered stepping outside of my box and going to the pub down the street to get a bite to eat. and then i realized that it was a saturday night and i didn't really want to be that woman who went to a pub on a saturday night at 9 pm, alone. but i'm still hungry. and i have no good food in the house.
i listened to my Italian language CDs. i looked through my DVDs. i eyeballed my stacks of unread books. i already danced this morning while i was doing some chores so i don't feel like doing that again. i took the Lunatic for a walk in the cool, crisp air and she really wasn't that interested in it so i came back inside. i'm not tired enough to go to sleep.
i even thought of CALLING people. on the PHONE. THAT is how bored i am. instead, i turn to the only thing i know how to do when nothing else will do - write and overanalyze.
what is boredom? moreover, is this boredom i'm feeling, or is it something else entirely, like depression? does boredom stem from over-stimulation of the senses or from lack of motivation? what cures boredom for someone whose usual activities signal boredom to other people?
admittedly, i sent Crush a text to see what he was doing in the hopes that his answer would be nothing so i'd have an opening. but he said he was staying home with his housemate and watching a movie. he didn't mention what movie when i asked. i think it's porn. and i think he might be gay. but that's another post entirely.
anyway, back to my boredom. i don't even want to watch a movie or one of my favorite shows on DVD. i've been "fishing" for 30 minutes, and have cast out a few friendly nets just to see if i can get a bite, if you pick up what i'm layin' down.
it's 10:30. i'm going to bed.
Saturday, February 05, 2011
happy chinese new year
goodbye, year of the tiger. you know, i may have said this before, but everyone has said that 2010 was a really rough year and they're all glad it's over. i don't know why, but it wasn't that bad for me. yes, my grandma died, which is never easy, but overall, i had a pretty good 2010. i guess i'd actually have to view my posts for 2010 to really know, but i don't remember anything really awful happen. my goldfish memory serves me well, yet again.
BabyMan was born the same year as me, but on january 22. for 34 years, he honestly believed he was born in the year of the dragon. last year, i broke the news to him that because he was born before chinese new year, that he was actually born in the previous animal year. being a guy, he said, "which one is that? year of the tiger? the ox? the snake??" i looked it up and reported back to him with the bad news. he was a Rabbit. a fluffy, white bunny. he was not pleased.
on thursday, i wished him a happy new year and he refused to believe he was not a dragon. if anything, he said, he was a fire-breathing rabbit. so i sent him a picture of a fire-breathing rabbit. he asked where i could have possibly found it from. i said, "i googled it." you can get just about anything from the internet in a matter of seconds.
tomrrow is the superbowl. i am going to be meeting A for lunch and we're going to wander around her neck of the woods to see whether we can find a place to sit and watch the game. and watch guys watching the game. and maybe meet the guys watching the game. here's hoping!
BabyMan was born the same year as me, but on january 22. for 34 years, he honestly believed he was born in the year of the dragon. last year, i broke the news to him that because he was born before chinese new year, that he was actually born in the previous animal year. being a guy, he said, "which one is that? year of the tiger? the ox? the snake??" i looked it up and reported back to him with the bad news. he was a Rabbit. a fluffy, white bunny. he was not pleased.
on thursday, i wished him a happy new year and he refused to believe he was not a dragon. if anything, he said, he was a fire-breathing rabbit. so i sent him a picture of a fire-breathing rabbit. he asked where i could have possibly found it from. i said, "i googled it." you can get just about anything from the internet in a matter of seconds.
tomrrow is the superbowl. i am going to be meeting A for lunch and we're going to wander around her neck of the woods to see whether we can find a place to sit and watch the game. and watch guys watching the game. and maybe meet the guys watching the game. here's hoping!
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
in all seriousness
i was visiting with my mom on sunday and, as usual, we started talking about money. five years ago, this post would be about how my mom was just trying to ruin my life and boss me around and blah, blah, blah. now, i realize that when it comes to money, you listen to a woman who paid off fully the mortgage on a duplex at the age of 35. that kind of woman deserves respect.
but she also made me really depressed. she encouraged me to look for work where company or government pensions were offered (because we all know that i'm not a good saver). i got my back up, of course, and was just about to say, "that's my plan when i'm 35!" and then i realized that i turn 35 in six months. faaaaaaaaaaaaack.
i went home feeling despondent. i still love my job. i still have so much more to learn in my job. it's a job and a career that i could be working in for the next ten years, without being bored. but she's absolutely right. and further, the reality is that the older i get, the less likely it is that i'm going to get married and have that elusive second income. i can't keep hoping that the other half of my "DINK" fantasy is coming my way. i have to start planning for my future, now.
the way i see it, if all goes well, i'll retire in good health in 30 years. i can work for 30 more years. it doesn't daunt me. that's plenty of time to jolt my RRSP back to life. but she kept pushing me to get a job with a pension. the problem with that is those kinds of jobs bore me to tears.
i can't say that - maybe there is a job out there that offers a nice pension that i can grow in. or maybe there's a reason why i left my nice, cushy union job that was earning me a government pension and good benefits.
i decided to look at my old pay stubs from my union days to see how much was being taken from each paycheque and being put into the pension fund. but i discovered that i recycled those long ago (see? the minute i throw something out, i need it!). i looked over my yearly pension statements and it appears that every year, maybe about $1000 - 1300 was being taken from my paycheque. i know they invest in mutual funds. if i can do that, plus my RRSP, it'll be like i had a union job. except that i won't have the benefits when i retire.
being an adult sucks sometimes. but at least i now have a new focus, a new "project" to consider once i get back to work and have to deal with seeing Crush everyday again.
and no, the cute guy hasn't called. i'll give it until friday, and then i'll delete his number. yes, i realize i can call him but i'd really like him to call me first. decisions, decisions.
but she also made me really depressed. she encouraged me to look for work where company or government pensions were offered (because we all know that i'm not a good saver). i got my back up, of course, and was just about to say, "that's my plan when i'm 35!" and then i realized that i turn 35 in six months. faaaaaaaaaaaaack.
i went home feeling despondent. i still love my job. i still have so much more to learn in my job. it's a job and a career that i could be working in for the next ten years, without being bored. but she's absolutely right. and further, the reality is that the older i get, the less likely it is that i'm going to get married and have that elusive second income. i can't keep hoping that the other half of my "DINK" fantasy is coming my way. i have to start planning for my future, now.
the way i see it, if all goes well, i'll retire in good health in 30 years. i can work for 30 more years. it doesn't daunt me. that's plenty of time to jolt my RRSP back to life. but she kept pushing me to get a job with a pension. the problem with that is those kinds of jobs bore me to tears.
i can't say that - maybe there is a job out there that offers a nice pension that i can grow in. or maybe there's a reason why i left my nice, cushy union job that was earning me a government pension and good benefits.
i decided to look at my old pay stubs from my union days to see how much was being taken from each paycheque and being put into the pension fund. but i discovered that i recycled those long ago (see? the minute i throw something out, i need it!). i looked over my yearly pension statements and it appears that every year, maybe about $1000 - 1300 was being taken from my paycheque. i know they invest in mutual funds. if i can do that, plus my RRSP, it'll be like i had a union job. except that i won't have the benefits when i retire.
being an adult sucks sometimes. but at least i now have a new focus, a new "project" to consider once i get back to work and have to deal with seeing Crush everyday again.
and no, the cute guy hasn't called. i'll give it until friday, and then i'll delete his number. yes, i realize i can call him but i'd really like him to call me first. decisions, decisions.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
happy new year
my first post of 2011. hurrah!
i was a bit of a new year's grinch last night. as Doc Tardy and i were driving to our new year's party venue, she was being (unusually) pro-active/positive about 2011, telling me that it would be "our year". i grumped and said, "we've been saying that for the past three years."
i wasn't even particularly excited about going out for new year's. once again, it was something that i felt i had to do in order to be "interesting" or "normal" or "cool". i chose the venue we went to because, at the very least, it wouldn't be overrun with 19-year olds on their first legal new year's bender.
the evening turned out to be great. we had planned to meet up with a guy from high school who we knew was going to be there with friends. i remembered him as a little awkward and a bit annoying but he turned out to be loads of fun. very positive and up for a good time. and as luck would have it, a good thing we met up as all six of the friends he was with (3 couples) bailed on him before midnight. i guess they thought it would be okay since Doc and i were there. anyway, both he and Doc Tardy got decidedly buzzed on the 6 bottles of mini-champagnes we acquired. it amounted to about one bottle of full-sized champagne each.
i also met a cute guy while on the nearly-empty dance floor. his friend was the one who sidled up to me first. initially, i thought the friend was the one who was interested in me and, while there was no attraction to him on my part, he was funny and hey, it's 2011 - time to put away pretenses, at least for the night. turns out he was the wingman because once his friend and i started chatting, he took off. the cute guy and i had several dances and indeed, he enjoyed twirling me and did so at every chance he got.
at one point, we were standing and chatting about the movie they had been looping on the TV screens all night and this young guy who had been watching us from the sidelines came up to us and started talking to me. the cute guy sat down with another one of his friends and the young guy and i continued to chat. he was a bit more than loaded and said to me, "you see that guy in the blue shirt to your left? i think he was hitting on you." i feigned surprise and he continued, "yeah, so i decided to come in for the rescue. see, he walked off!" i figured he was too drunk to explain that i was okay about being hit on. but he left eventually.
when my little group decided it was time to go, i walked over to the cute guy and said we were going. he asked for one last twirl, which turned into a lot of turning, a some close-hold dancing, and a lot of hand holding. finally, i had to say goodbye and told him that it was really nice to meet him. lots of smiling, lots of eye contact and he said, "can i call you?" and i walked away with a phone number.
Eug educated me that he won't call until monday, but we'll see if he calls at all. i'd like him to. he was nice. he didn't even try to kiss me, even though i could tell he wanted to. maybe he wasn't as drunk as i thought he was...or at least, as drunk as his wingman was.
as for Crush, i had asked him to come to my venue if he didn't end up doing anything for new years. he was predictably vague. i was predictably disheartened. but the cute guy kind of softens that blow, at least for the time being.
2011 - this is our year! ;)
i was a bit of a new year's grinch last night. as Doc Tardy and i were driving to our new year's party venue, she was being (unusually) pro-active/positive about 2011, telling me that it would be "our year". i grumped and said, "we've been saying that for the past three years."
i wasn't even particularly excited about going out for new year's. once again, it was something that i felt i had to do in order to be "interesting" or "normal" or "cool". i chose the venue we went to because, at the very least, it wouldn't be overrun with 19-year olds on their first legal new year's bender.
the evening turned out to be great. we had planned to meet up with a guy from high school who we knew was going to be there with friends. i remembered him as a little awkward and a bit annoying but he turned out to be loads of fun. very positive and up for a good time. and as luck would have it, a good thing we met up as all six of the friends he was with (3 couples) bailed on him before midnight. i guess they thought it would be okay since Doc and i were there. anyway, both he and Doc Tardy got decidedly buzzed on the 6 bottles of mini-champagnes we acquired. it amounted to about one bottle of full-sized champagne each.
i also met a cute guy while on the nearly-empty dance floor. his friend was the one who sidled up to me first. initially, i thought the friend was the one who was interested in me and, while there was no attraction to him on my part, he was funny and hey, it's 2011 - time to put away pretenses, at least for the night. turns out he was the wingman because once his friend and i started chatting, he took off. the cute guy and i had several dances and indeed, he enjoyed twirling me and did so at every chance he got.
at one point, we were standing and chatting about the movie they had been looping on the TV screens all night and this young guy who had been watching us from the sidelines came up to us and started talking to me. the cute guy sat down with another one of his friends and the young guy and i continued to chat. he was a bit more than loaded and said to me, "you see that guy in the blue shirt to your left? i think he was hitting on you." i feigned surprise and he continued, "yeah, so i decided to come in for the rescue. see, he walked off!" i figured he was too drunk to explain that i was okay about being hit on. but he left eventually.
when my little group decided it was time to go, i walked over to the cute guy and said we were going. he asked for one last twirl, which turned into a lot of turning, a some close-hold dancing, and a lot of hand holding. finally, i had to say goodbye and told him that it was really nice to meet him. lots of smiling, lots of eye contact and he said, "can i call you?" and i walked away with a phone number.
Eug educated me that he won't call until monday, but we'll see if he calls at all. i'd like him to. he was nice. he didn't even try to kiss me, even though i could tell he wanted to. maybe he wasn't as drunk as i thought he was...or at least, as drunk as his wingman was.
as for Crush, i had asked him to come to my venue if he didn't end up doing anything for new years. he was predictably vague. i was predictably disheartened. but the cute guy kind of softens that blow, at least for the time being.
2011 - this is our year! ;)
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