Thursday, March 1, 2012
and again
I shouldn't be surprised at this point when it happens. When he cancels at the last minute. When he does the right thing. When he chooses to be who his dad expected him to be instead of who he really is. It just sucks when it happens.
Monday, January 16, 2012
uh oh
Today I'm supposed to meet up with a friend who has been submerged in massive depression for the last 2 years. I've been feeling out of sorts/in the dumper for most of 2012. This can't go well.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
cheers
This evening I mentioned to my friends that I was tired of being happy for all of my other friends. It's a flippant comment, but there's an element of truth to it. There's a whole lot of good stuff going on in other people's lives: a brand new engagement, a few people getting into new relationships, a new baby to get to know, new jobs... It's fantastic that these things happen to my friends because they really deserve to be happy.
Just sometimes I wonder if there's a limit to how happy I can be for everybody else before I start dying of melancholy inside.
Maybe some people are just designed for happiness and others aren't. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm not wired to be happy. All I can hope for is mild contentment, and that is a real struggle sometimes. Like today. I'm tired of being happy for everybody else. It would be nice to be happy for me.
Oh look, beer.
Just sometimes I wonder if there's a limit to how happy I can be for everybody else before I start dying of melancholy inside.
Maybe some people are just designed for happiness and others aren't. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm not wired to be happy. All I can hope for is mild contentment, and that is a real struggle sometimes. Like today. I'm tired of being happy for everybody else. It would be nice to be happy for me.
Oh look, beer.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
the last of it
Why do I always want to climb into a hole and hide when New Year's Eve rolls around?
I have a ticket to go dancing with friends who see each other very often. I don't see them often, probably because I'm pretty dull to be around lately (conversation topics generally wind up being work-related, centered around how much I'm working and how many jobs I have. I try to steer away from that, I swear). They were all together last evening, doing fun things, as they always do. And, for some dumb reason, knowing that they did something fun, as they always do, I don't think I should go dancing tonight with them.
This morning I had an anxiety attack, early, around 4:30 or so. I'm not sure what the anxiety was about, but I felt that impending doom when you have to do something that you don't feel comfortable doing. I thought it was because I had to make something for a potluck at work, but after I made another plan for that, the anxiety persisted. It may be because of tonight. And I dread dressing up in a dress that I feel blubbery in, sweating because I always sweat when I dance, watching other people kiss at midnight and then walking home by myself while the world happens around me. I can't get excited about it.
So... I might try to give the ticket to that group of friends, as I'm sure they have someone who will want to go that will be more cheery. I'd kind of like to board a bus out of town and ride it to the end of the line. Maybe ride the Skytrain all night, in loops. Or just go to bed early, since I have to work tomorrow anyway.
Why does there have to be any emphasis on the importance of New Year's Eve? Why can't it just be another day?
I have a ticket to go dancing with friends who see each other very often. I don't see them often, probably because I'm pretty dull to be around lately (conversation topics generally wind up being work-related, centered around how much I'm working and how many jobs I have. I try to steer away from that, I swear). They were all together last evening, doing fun things, as they always do. And, for some dumb reason, knowing that they did something fun, as they always do, I don't think I should go dancing tonight with them.
This morning I had an anxiety attack, early, around 4:30 or so. I'm not sure what the anxiety was about, but I felt that impending doom when you have to do something that you don't feel comfortable doing. I thought it was because I had to make something for a potluck at work, but after I made another plan for that, the anxiety persisted. It may be because of tonight. And I dread dressing up in a dress that I feel blubbery in, sweating because I always sweat when I dance, watching other people kiss at midnight and then walking home by myself while the world happens around me. I can't get excited about it.
So... I might try to give the ticket to that group of friends, as I'm sure they have someone who will want to go that will be more cheery. I'd kind of like to board a bus out of town and ride it to the end of the line. Maybe ride the Skytrain all night, in loops. Or just go to bed early, since I have to work tomorrow anyway.
Why does there have to be any emphasis on the importance of New Year's Eve? Why can't it just be another day?
Thursday, December 29, 2011
bracing
Hello, poor neglected blog. It's been a while, I know... No excuse is a good excuse in this sort of situation, so I won't even try.
I will talk about something more dull, though. Don't you worry about that.
Earlier in December, I was so happy to be finishing up my adult braces. The Invisalign have been fine, but I was growing tired of them, especially leading up to the holidays. After my appointment, though, it was apparent this was not the end. It may never be the end.
At least that's how it feels.
I'm onto the "refinement" trays, which hurt like a mofo. I'm supposed to floss a billion times a day and it's just pools of blood from my fricking teeth being moved around in my mouth. Yesterday's trays are killing me, high pain threshold and all. Groan.
But one day... one day I'll have nice, straight teeth that line up perfectly. I just have no idea when that will be. Right now I'm set up for another 24 weeks, if my teeth don't sort themselves out by then.
See? This is why I haven't been blogging. Snore.
I will talk about something more dull, though. Don't you worry about that.
Earlier in December, I was so happy to be finishing up my adult braces. The Invisalign have been fine, but I was growing tired of them, especially leading up to the holidays. After my appointment, though, it was apparent this was not the end. It may never be the end.
At least that's how it feels.
I'm onto the "refinement" trays, which hurt like a mofo. I'm supposed to floss a billion times a day and it's just pools of blood from my fricking teeth being moved around in my mouth. Yesterday's trays are killing me, high pain threshold and all. Groan.
But one day... one day I'll have nice, straight teeth that line up perfectly. I just have no idea when that will be. Right now I'm set up for another 24 weeks, if my teeth don't sort themselves out by then.
See? This is why I haven't been blogging. Snore.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
i want to be your friend
So my friend has acquired a Russian penpal, picked up from one of those random emails about Russian women wanting to meet men in other countries. He thought it'd be interesting to see how long it took for her to bring up money. Apparently, not very long.
He only started posting both parts of their conversation in the last couple of weeks, for the amusement of about 700 people, but it sounds like she asked for money for a visa to come visit him within a week. I find this especially amusing. She tried to prove she was real by sending a picture of her passport, sending pictures in various poses, holding a sign in a grainy picture with "I'm real" written and his fake name. If this were the early part of online dating, this would sound great and possible.
His story has gotten much more involved recently. The monetary demand was getting quite heated, with her accusing him of leading her on, so he wrote that he was in the hospital, relying on friends who didn't believe she was real to send the money. Never once did she talk about his hospitalisation, despite him mentioning he might lose his leg and it was a critical situation. He's written quite a lot about his injuries and accident, and you'd think someone who professes that she wants to curl up in front of a fire with hot chocolate and just stare at each other might pick up that being hospitalised is a pretty major thing.
Now, I know that there's a slight chance that she's a real person and she is probably thinking he's her meal ticket out of a tough situation. But what are the chances of that? Maybe 4%? Because things just don't add up.
And this is why it's my favourite part of the week, when he gets a new letter and sometimes new photos. Because it's interesting to be on the inside when a scammer tries to scam someone who knows what's going on. I suspect my friend's persona will wind up dying, but we'll see.
He only started posting both parts of their conversation in the last couple of weeks, for the amusement of about 700 people, but it sounds like she asked for money for a visa to come visit him within a week. I find this especially amusing. She tried to prove she was real by sending a picture of her passport, sending pictures in various poses, holding a sign in a grainy picture with "I'm real" written and his fake name. If this were the early part of online dating, this would sound great and possible.
His story has gotten much more involved recently. The monetary demand was getting quite heated, with her accusing him of leading her on, so he wrote that he was in the hospital, relying on friends who didn't believe she was real to send the money. Never once did she talk about his hospitalisation, despite him mentioning he might lose his leg and it was a critical situation. He's written quite a lot about his injuries and accident, and you'd think someone who professes that she wants to curl up in front of a fire with hot chocolate and just stare at each other might pick up that being hospitalised is a pretty major thing.
Now, I know that there's a slight chance that she's a real person and she is probably thinking he's her meal ticket out of a tough situation. But what are the chances of that? Maybe 4%? Because things just don't add up.
And this is why it's my favourite part of the week, when he gets a new letter and sometimes new photos. Because it's interesting to be on the inside when a scammer tries to scam someone who knows what's going on. I suspect my friend's persona will wind up dying, but we'll see.
Friday, September 30, 2011
bang head here
Sometimes I have to physically stop myself from rolling my eyes when people make general statements like, "You have so many friends." Times like today make me question that.
Free show. Biggish bands. Decent hour. You'd think I would know someone who was interested in going. Nope. Not a single person. So I'm working an extra few hours to get ahead a bit until it's time to go outside and see bands play for free by myself.
I realised, though, while getting rebuffed over and over, that this is why I stop trying to socialise with people. Because, really, if I can't get people interested in seeing things that are actually interesting, why would they want to do anything not exciting? And, thinking about it, I know that they often don't want to do anything then either. Irrational, depressed me says, "See? You have no friends, so why do you even bother asking?" Slightly less irrational me says, "People are busy. You're busy. You should talk about making plans with people."
But, even with the craziness of my schedule, I do make efforts to see people when possible. I forgo sleep, I neglect basic living tasks like laundry and grocery shopping and eating, I move my work schedule around to accommodate people when I can, I write things down in pen. But I seem to know a lot of people who don't do those things and that leaves me out in the cold. And that's OK, I guess; I can't make people put in the effort. But it takes a lot of gall for those same people to tell me how I've got an abundance of friends.
Like people who expect other people to pick up the trash, some friends seem to think someone else is there to be a friend. The reality is that I can count on one hand with fingers remaining the number of people who actually do stuff when asked. Sometimes it doesn't bother me. Today it does.
If you wonder why I take on more work than I can physically work? Short answer: it fills my free time.
Free show. Biggish bands. Decent hour. You'd think I would know someone who was interested in going. Nope. Not a single person. So I'm working an extra few hours to get ahead a bit until it's time to go outside and see bands play for free by myself.
I realised, though, while getting rebuffed over and over, that this is why I stop trying to socialise with people. Because, really, if I can't get people interested in seeing things that are actually interesting, why would they want to do anything not exciting? And, thinking about it, I know that they often don't want to do anything then either. Irrational, depressed me says, "See? You have no friends, so why do you even bother asking?" Slightly less irrational me says, "People are busy. You're busy. You should talk about making plans with people."
But, even with the craziness of my schedule, I do make efforts to see people when possible. I forgo sleep, I neglect basic living tasks like laundry and grocery shopping and eating, I move my work schedule around to accommodate people when I can, I write things down in pen. But I seem to know a lot of people who don't do those things and that leaves me out in the cold. And that's OK, I guess; I can't make people put in the effort. But it takes a lot of gall for those same people to tell me how I've got an abundance of friends.
Like people who expect other people to pick up the trash, some friends seem to think someone else is there to be a friend. The reality is that I can count on one hand with fingers remaining the number of people who actually do stuff when asked. Sometimes it doesn't bother me. Today it does.
If you wonder why I take on more work than I can physically work? Short answer: it fills my free time.
Monday, September 19, 2011
windy
This is no shock to anyone who knows me, but I desperately wish I were able to live/work in Chicago. Le sigh. I was in Chicago for the 6th or 7th time last week and it was extremely hard to come home. Ridiculously hard. I stayed there as long as I could. It was really good times.
My friends are getting married next spring and I'm hoping she was serious when she said I'd be invited. Because I will go to her wedding, no matter what. Any reason to go back to Chicago...
I might actually have to go back sooner than next May, though, because the history museum has an exhibit opening in mid-October that only runs until mid-April. It's my favourite couturier, Charles James, and since his dresses are not exhibited that much (maybe one in any given exhibition, the Met Costume Institute included) it seems criminal to not even make the effort to get back to see it.
Really, I did try to counter this possibility by putting in a request to visit the clothing collection during my trip, but was thwarted. Actually, I was ignored. I tried to get a response a couple of times. I even befriended the docent during one of my architecture tours because he mentioned that he also volunteers at the history museum. The timing of his volunteer shift and when I was leaving town didn't work out, so I'm left in the position to have to go to Chicago again in the coming months. Poor me.
And I want to see my friend's band play, because I keep missing their gigs.
The next cheap flight and I'm there. Or the next cheap flight that fits into my ridiculous work schedule.
My friends are getting married next spring and I'm hoping she was serious when she said I'd be invited. Because I will go to her wedding, no matter what. Any reason to go back to Chicago...
I might actually have to go back sooner than next May, though, because the history museum has an exhibit opening in mid-October that only runs until mid-April. It's my favourite couturier, Charles James, and since his dresses are not exhibited that much (maybe one in any given exhibition, the Met Costume Institute included) it seems criminal to not even make the effort to get back to see it.
Really, I did try to counter this possibility by putting in a request to visit the clothing collection during my trip, but was thwarted. Actually, I was ignored. I tried to get a response a couple of times. I even befriended the docent during one of my architecture tours because he mentioned that he also volunteers at the history museum. The timing of his volunteer shift and when I was leaving town didn't work out, so I'm left in the position to have to go to Chicago again in the coming months. Poor me.
And I want to see my friend's band play, because I keep missing their gigs.
The next cheap flight and I'm there. Or the next cheap flight that fits into my ridiculous work schedule.
second guessing
With the approach of chilly weather, I'm starting to wonder if that summer sewing project could have been thought out a little better.
This morning I stared at my closet, full of dresses, and none of them seemed to suit the weather. I settled on a cheap, likely unattractive DKNY dress that I've been meaning to alter, but then never get around to. It's fine, I think, though the last time I saw it full-length was when I bought it, and since it was $20 it barely mattered how good it looked. Shorten the skirt and take in the sides, I thought, and it'll be great. Fast forward 5 months and... those initial thoughts are probably still true.
What it all comes down to is that I really need to get a full-length mirror.
Yesterday, a woman gave me a severe stinkeye while talking to her friend about me (I assume it was about me because she looked me up and down and kept motioning towards me in another language with a tone of disgust) because I was wearing a somewhat bright dress. Generally this matters very little to me because I'm the one who has to wear it and bright clothing makes me happy. I was feeling a bit "fuck you" about it this time, though, so sauntered over to stand right beside her and looked her up and down and rolled my eyes. Like a child. But, seriously, people shouldn't be making judgments about me when they're dressed like they're fresh off the boat. (That's a little harsh, I realise, but I'm not sure how else to describe the look: white socks, clunky black Mary Janes, flood knit pants, layers of long sleeved shirts... This was not a woman who paid any attention to how she looked.)
What was my point there? Maybe that was just a tangent.
Anyway, I'm going to look at what fabric I have and see if I can concentrate on fall/winter sewing. Because I'm going to freeze my ass off if I don't figure something out soon. I have a couple of woolens for a vintage Vogue short jacket and a crazy orange herringbone for a boxy skirt suit. I want to line everything so it's slightly warmer and so it stops sticking to my tights. I don't want to have to rely on coats to stay warm just yet because my coats kind of suck.
Why can't woolens be a little cheaper so I can try making a coat without worrying about how much a potential failure will cost me? Why can't I ever find vintage fabric at charity shops?
This morning I stared at my closet, full of dresses, and none of them seemed to suit the weather. I settled on a cheap, likely unattractive DKNY dress that I've been meaning to alter, but then never get around to. It's fine, I think, though the last time I saw it full-length was when I bought it, and since it was $20 it barely mattered how good it looked. Shorten the skirt and take in the sides, I thought, and it'll be great. Fast forward 5 months and... those initial thoughts are probably still true.
What it all comes down to is that I really need to get a full-length mirror.
Yesterday, a woman gave me a severe stinkeye while talking to her friend about me (I assume it was about me because she looked me up and down and kept motioning towards me in another language with a tone of disgust) because I was wearing a somewhat bright dress. Generally this matters very little to me because I'm the one who has to wear it and bright clothing makes me happy. I was feeling a bit "fuck you" about it this time, though, so sauntered over to stand right beside her and looked her up and down and rolled my eyes. Like a child. But, seriously, people shouldn't be making judgments about me when they're dressed like they're fresh off the boat. (That's a little harsh, I realise, but I'm not sure how else to describe the look: white socks, clunky black Mary Janes, flood knit pants, layers of long sleeved shirts... This was not a woman who paid any attention to how she looked.)
What was my point there? Maybe that was just a tangent.
Anyway, I'm going to look at what fabric I have and see if I can concentrate on fall/winter sewing. Because I'm going to freeze my ass off if I don't figure something out soon. I have a couple of woolens for a vintage Vogue short jacket and a crazy orange herringbone for a boxy skirt suit. I want to line everything so it's slightly warmer and so it stops sticking to my tights. I don't want to have to rely on coats to stay warm just yet because my coats kind of suck.
Why can't woolens be a little cheaper so I can try making a coat without worrying about how much a potential failure will cost me? Why can't I ever find vintage fabric at charity shops?
Friday, September 2, 2011
the more things change...
Things happening in my friends' lives that are awesome:
1) getting knocked up. This summer seems to be the summer for pregnancies because right now at least 6 friends are preggers. Babies start popping in December and will be all out by the end of February.
2) moving to new cities. Two very close friends have just moved to Vancouver, one for the first time, the other returning after a couple years back east. The injection of people who like to do things I like to do is very, very welcome.
3) getting new jobs. Seems to be a thing. I keep getting LinkedIn updates and the job descriptions my friends have sound really awesome. A few have been offered better jobs. These things sound like a positive.
4) getting married. Just a few friends got married this summer, but it's pretty big whenever that happens, right?
5) going on major trips. Trips to Ireland, jetsetting to London, flying over to Japan, Paris, Thailand, Vietnam... I hear about these things after they happen and it sounds fun and I am very jealous.
Things happening in my life right now:
1) my hair sticks out at weird angles and certain curls will not go away, even though my current haircut expects straightness.
2) I've been trying to sew whenever I feel the threat of depression. This means I have a bunch of dresses. It hasn't been a very qualitative summer, just sort of quantitative.
3) .... uh.... I found some shoes that I like. They give me blisters on my right foot, but they were cheap and have pansies that may or may not have skulls in the centres. They have little blue bows on them. I like pansies quite a lot.
4) I have tomatoes to freeze because I can't eat them before they start to turn. My freezer is full of things that I couldn't eat before they started to turn. My stash of bananas is embarrassing. Any day now I'll start using them in smoothies. Any day now.
I feel a little like I did in Japan, when I was just sort of existing while other people had lives that were dynamic and ever-changing. Mine feels like something is about to happen, but then it never really does. Same old, same old.
Any minute now I will have something interesting happen, right?
1) getting knocked up. This summer seems to be the summer for pregnancies because right now at least 6 friends are preggers. Babies start popping in December and will be all out by the end of February.
2) moving to new cities. Two very close friends have just moved to Vancouver, one for the first time, the other returning after a couple years back east. The injection of people who like to do things I like to do is very, very welcome.
3) getting new jobs. Seems to be a thing. I keep getting LinkedIn updates and the job descriptions my friends have sound really awesome. A few have been offered better jobs. These things sound like a positive.
4) getting married. Just a few friends got married this summer, but it's pretty big whenever that happens, right?
5) going on major trips. Trips to Ireland, jetsetting to London, flying over to Japan, Paris, Thailand, Vietnam... I hear about these things after they happen and it sounds fun and I am very jealous.
Things happening in my life right now:
1) my hair sticks out at weird angles and certain curls will not go away, even though my current haircut expects straightness.
2) I've been trying to sew whenever I feel the threat of depression. This means I have a bunch of dresses. It hasn't been a very qualitative summer, just sort of quantitative.
3) .... uh.... I found some shoes that I like. They give me blisters on my right foot, but they were cheap and have pansies that may or may not have skulls in the centres. They have little blue bows on them. I like pansies quite a lot.
4) I have tomatoes to freeze because I can't eat them before they start to turn. My freezer is full of things that I couldn't eat before they started to turn. My stash of bananas is embarrassing. Any day now I'll start using them in smoothies. Any day now.
I feel a little like I did in Japan, when I was just sort of existing while other people had lives that were dynamic and ever-changing. Mine feels like something is about to happen, but then it never really does. Same old, same old.
Any minute now I will have something interesting happen, right?
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
failure
It probably goes without saying that I didn't get the job. And I'm really trying to not feel like the biggest fucking loser ever, but it's hard. I mean, I've worked there for almost 3 years and they hired someone who recently graduated. Which means, despite working for 3 years, I still don't have enough experience to work where I already work.
Last night I met my friend for a quick dinner and, during a story about being in my hometown bar and summing up why it was for the best that we didn't run into the trouble the place is known for, he mentioned that it was best for everyone that I didn't need to react because he knows I would. So... I'm extremely reactive. And this isn't a big surprise to me, but it still stings when other people point it out because it is incredibly hard to not react.
Which is why I haven't quit that job yet. Because I really want to. So much. I can't even tell you how much I want to quit that job. More than I want to get over my allergy to cats. But that's reactive and adults don't do shit like quit a job when they don't get hired for a better, secure job with the same company.
I've been avoiding people from that job as well. My debriefing interview was a joke; the head of the hiring committee had nothing productive to say other than that I need more experience. Then she sent me an email that said I should "pretty up" my resume and join the professional association to meet people and start a personal blog.
Typing that makes me want to slam my head against the wall repeatedly until that sounds like good advice. It's like she never looked at my resume.
Talking about it with people from that workplace won't do anything but make me feel worse. Oh, you think I deserved that job? Me too. You can't believe they chose someone who started grad school after I graduated? I'm with you on that one. You wish I had gotten the job? That's... great. I didn't get the job and now I can never get away from that because people will remind me constantly that I didn't get the job. Yay.
So... already being prone to beating myself up (because my brain constantly tells me I'm not good enough), it's kicked into HIGH GEAR with this. I am just a warm body that fills in when the real important people need breaks. I'm a blowup doll in the passenger seat so you can drive in the HOV lane. I'm the discardable paper balled up in the toe of a shoe until a foot goes in. I'm just an auxiliary librarian, now and forever.
Last night I met my friend for a quick dinner and, during a story about being in my hometown bar and summing up why it was for the best that we didn't run into the trouble the place is known for, he mentioned that it was best for everyone that I didn't need to react because he knows I would. So... I'm extremely reactive. And this isn't a big surprise to me, but it still stings when other people point it out because it is incredibly hard to not react.
Which is why I haven't quit that job yet. Because I really want to. So much. I can't even tell you how much I want to quit that job. More than I want to get over my allergy to cats. But that's reactive and adults don't do shit like quit a job when they don't get hired for a better, secure job with the same company.
I've been avoiding people from that job as well. My debriefing interview was a joke; the head of the hiring committee had nothing productive to say other than that I need more experience. Then she sent me an email that said I should "pretty up" my resume and join the professional association to meet people and start a personal blog.
Typing that makes me want to slam my head against the wall repeatedly until that sounds like good advice. It's like she never looked at my resume.
Talking about it with people from that workplace won't do anything but make me feel worse. Oh, you think I deserved that job? Me too. You can't believe they chose someone who started grad school after I graduated? I'm with you on that one. You wish I had gotten the job? That's... great. I didn't get the job and now I can never get away from that because people will remind me constantly that I didn't get the job. Yay.
So... already being prone to beating myself up (because my brain constantly tells me I'm not good enough), it's kicked into HIGH GEAR with this. I am just a warm body that fills in when the real important people need breaks. I'm a blowup doll in the passenger seat so you can drive in the HOV lane. I'm the discardable paper balled up in the toe of a shoe until a foot goes in. I'm just an auxiliary librarian, now and forever.
Monday, August 15, 2011
holding pattern
This summer is all about waiting to see what will happen. I'm having a hard time being patient when other people are in charge of deciding whether or not I'll have enough work to get by. I'm stuck in limbo.
It's been almost 2 weeks since I interviewed for a job. The longer it takes to hear back, the more it feels like I didn't get the job. If I didn't get the job, I have to work my ass off to get enough work to pay next month's rent. If I did get the job... Well, they're sure taking their sweet time about it.
I'm naturally an impatient person. When I saw a counselor, he always asked why I was feeling so anxious at that moment because I was always fiddling or moving my feet or shifting in my seat. It was obvious that I couldn't stay still. And often I catch myself doing these things while waiting for buses or people, when circumstances aren't moving at a speed that I want them to. For a while I was good at monitoring this type of anxiety and working through it, but lately it's impossible. I'm a jumble.
At this point I wonder if they're waiting to tell me after this week because I won't have any shifts for a month. If that's the case, I think it's pretty obvious what the answer is.
These are the times that I realise a healthy habit or hobby would be good, like running. If I ran and only ran when I was feeling anxious, I would be super fit at this point.
It's been almost 2 weeks since I interviewed for a job. The longer it takes to hear back, the more it feels like I didn't get the job. If I didn't get the job, I have to work my ass off to get enough work to pay next month's rent. If I did get the job... Well, they're sure taking their sweet time about it.
I'm naturally an impatient person. When I saw a counselor, he always asked why I was feeling so anxious at that moment because I was always fiddling or moving my feet or shifting in my seat. It was obvious that I couldn't stay still. And often I catch myself doing these things while waiting for buses or people, when circumstances aren't moving at a speed that I want them to. For a while I was good at monitoring this type of anxiety and working through it, but lately it's impossible. I'm a jumble.
At this point I wonder if they're waiting to tell me after this week because I won't have any shifts for a month. If that's the case, I think it's pretty obvious what the answer is.
These are the times that I realise a healthy habit or hobby would be good, like running. If I ran and only ran when I was feeling anxious, I would be super fit at this point.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
query
I have been thinking of starting a blog or something to only post positive things. Maybe put up some sewing projects. Show some pictures of things I've baked. I'm just not sure which interface I want to work with. Initially I thought about a free Wordpress one, but it needs some tweaking and I haven't found a design that I'm sold on. Thought about Tumblr, too, but worry about limitations with writing stuff. I could do another Blogger one, but I don't want this one to be linked to the other in any way.
Any suggestions? What interface would be best for photos/writing/stuff?
Any suggestions? What interface would be best for photos/writing/stuff?
Friday, July 29, 2011
the lazy domestic
Whenever I tell people that I'm really quite lazy about sewing and cooking, usually they scoff at me. "But you actually cook!" Yes, but I don't put much effort into it. "But you actually make stuff you wear!" Yes, but I skip steps and don't put in zippers unless I absolutely have to. I realise we will never agree on this alleged laziness.
Perhaps cheap is a better descriptor. I'm cheap with my time, and to me that seems lazy. If I can make something faster than it would take to go out and get something from a restaurant, I will make it at home. If I can make a dress that I'll like in less time than it would take me to find one, I will sew it.
And it's not just cheap with time. I'm cheap, period.
One thing that bothers me is paying a lot of money for clothing that will either look out of place in a few months or that will fall apart because of poor quality. Would I rather pay $100 for a dress that fits pretty good or $8 for the fabric for a dress that I can keep tweaking and finish so it will never fall apart? Would I rather pay for a subpar meal or pay extra for good ingredients for an at-home recipe? Probably the latter. But maybe it all just comes down to the fact that I'm cheap.
I am OK with being cheap. Cheap is economical. Some would say frugal. I am taking back cheap as a bad thing because if I weren't cheap I would be in debt. So cheap is OK with me.
Perhaps cheap is a better descriptor. I'm cheap with my time, and to me that seems lazy. If I can make something faster than it would take to go out and get something from a restaurant, I will make it at home. If I can make a dress that I'll like in less time than it would take me to find one, I will sew it.
And it's not just cheap with time. I'm cheap, period.
One thing that bothers me is paying a lot of money for clothing that will either look out of place in a few months or that will fall apart because of poor quality. Would I rather pay $100 for a dress that fits pretty good or $8 for the fabric for a dress that I can keep tweaking and finish so it will never fall apart? Would I rather pay for a subpar meal or pay extra for good ingredients for an at-home recipe? Probably the latter. But maybe it all just comes down to the fact that I'm cheap.
I am OK with being cheap. Cheap is economical. Some would say frugal. I am taking back cheap as a bad thing because if I weren't cheap I would be in debt. So cheap is OK with me.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
grumble grumble
This morning on the train, a skinny Asian woman, probably in her late 20s, offered me her seat. I am guessing she thought I looked pregnant, though I looked at my belly when I got to work and I don't see whatever she saw. There were other women standing up, so it couldn't have been because she didn't really want to sit down. But it put me in a fowl mood.
Why can't someone just be fat anymore?
If thin women actually looked at women who aren't skinny, perhaps I wouldn't have to tell them that I'm not pregnant every 5 or 6 months. If my body type were represented anywhere in society, I wouldn't have to explain my body to people who mistake me for pregnant.
I'm sure I'm just being sensitive. Being a single, barren woman, I shouldn't be so offended by the suggestion that someone would impregnate me. But I am. It undermines my self esteem. I can't help that my body carries fat in the way it does, and the amount of work I need to do to not have fat on my body is more than I'm willing to do. I resent that my body can't just *be*; it has to be judged whenever I wear certain clothes. And no matter how much care I put into dressing or how happy I feel about my body, it will always be negated when someone suggests I'm so fat that I look pregnant.
As my mother would say, I'm the one who has to wear it. If people kept their mouths shut about my body, maybe I wouldn't always be so conscious of it.
Why can't someone just be fat anymore?
If thin women actually looked at women who aren't skinny, perhaps I wouldn't have to tell them that I'm not pregnant every 5 or 6 months. If my body type were represented anywhere in society, I wouldn't have to explain my body to people who mistake me for pregnant.
I'm sure I'm just being sensitive. Being a single, barren woman, I shouldn't be so offended by the suggestion that someone would impregnate me. But I am. It undermines my self esteem. I can't help that my body carries fat in the way it does, and the amount of work I need to do to not have fat on my body is more than I'm willing to do. I resent that my body can't just *be*; it has to be judged whenever I wear certain clothes. And no matter how much care I put into dressing or how happy I feel about my body, it will always be negated when someone suggests I'm so fat that I look pregnant.
As my mother would say, I'm the one who has to wear it. If people kept their mouths shut about my body, maybe I wouldn't always be so conscious of it.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
worst case
So. The fork. The fork has turned into a knife, and points in one direction: to nowhere.
With 2 hours left in my shift, the head of the library came by the ref desk and let me know that, yes, the selection process is taking a little longer than anticipated because there was a surprise internal candidate. Apparently one of the sessional instructors in Classics just finished his MLIS (*just* finished and has never worked as a librarian anywhere) and, because he's technically still within the faculty association, is considered internal. He didn't bother to stop by the library (ever, in fact. No one has ever met him) to ask about the position; he just applied. Even though it was posted as an internal/external job, meaning anyone can be considered. But... he's internal. So he gets interviewed for suitability and I get to, once again, miss out on the job that I want. Rarely do they pass up the internal candidate.
When she told me, I had to figure out how to not fall apart on the desk. But now I really don't feel like going to that job anymore. I give up.
Do you ever have those "It's a Wonderful Life" moments? Not the part where you realise people are there for you in your worst time. The part where the only thing you can think of to do is to lean over a bridge and wish aloud that you were never born. When you have no idea what point there is in being alive because you feel like you're not doing anything worthwhile, that you're not making a difference to anyone. Because that's kind of how my day has been going. Hopefully this feeling goes away tomorrow.
When I was feeling miserable in Japan, I would carry sea glass from Beacon Hill Park in my pocket and rub the smooth surface to feel better. It was reassuring. I eventually gave all my sea glass to other people who seemed to need it more than I did. I just don't know where to get a sea glass substitute anymore without drugging the nothingness away.
With 2 hours left in my shift, the head of the library came by the ref desk and let me know that, yes, the selection process is taking a little longer than anticipated because there was a surprise internal candidate. Apparently one of the sessional instructors in Classics just finished his MLIS (*just* finished and has never worked as a librarian anywhere) and, because he's technically still within the faculty association, is considered internal. He didn't bother to stop by the library (ever, in fact. No one has ever met him) to ask about the position; he just applied. Even though it was posted as an internal/external job, meaning anyone can be considered. But... he's internal. So he gets interviewed for suitability and I get to, once again, miss out on the job that I want. Rarely do they pass up the internal candidate.
When she told me, I had to figure out how to not fall apart on the desk. But now I really don't feel like going to that job anymore. I give up.
Do you ever have those "It's a Wonderful Life" moments? Not the part where you realise people are there for you in your worst time. The part where the only thing you can think of to do is to lean over a bridge and wish aloud that you were never born. When you have no idea what point there is in being alive because you feel like you're not doing anything worthwhile, that you're not making a difference to anyone. Because that's kind of how my day has been going. Hopefully this feeling goes away tomorrow.
When I was feeling miserable in Japan, I would carry sea glass from Beacon Hill Park in my pocket and rub the smooth surface to feel better. It was reassuring. I eventually gave all my sea glass to other people who seemed to need it more than I did. I just don't know where to get a sea glass substitute anymore without drugging the nothingness away.
Friday, June 17, 2011
the pull of mercury
Sometimes there's a secret message in everything, that all signs point to the one thing you dread most in life. I am having one of those days. Everything is telling me I am on my own. I plan to start reading "Sailing Alone Around The World" for tips on how to navigate from this point. I need some clarity because my life's compass has gotten me lost, left me adrift without any sign of a search rescue.
This next month will be my personal fork in the road, dependent on other people's wishes and wants. This is nothing new, but it is the sink or swim moment in my professional life. If I don't get this job, the job I've been hoping for for the last 2 1/2 years, I have to rethink everything in my life. If I should keep trying with what I've got. If I should take whatever I can get from this point on. If I should give up and leave this place. Days like today make it hard to remember what's keeping me here. My Spray is waiting for me in a dock somewhere and by the end of this summer it will be decided where it will take me.
This next month will be my personal fork in the road, dependent on other people's wishes and wants. This is nothing new, but it is the sink or swim moment in my professional life. If I don't get this job, the job I've been hoping for for the last 2 1/2 years, I have to rethink everything in my life. If I should keep trying with what I've got. If I should take whatever I can get from this point on. If I should give up and leave this place. Days like today make it hard to remember what's keeping me here. My Spray is waiting for me in a dock somewhere and by the end of this summer it will be decided where it will take me.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
(un)motivated
If you haven't guessed by now, I go through phases, where certain activities happen more frequently than any others because they calm my nerves and stop me from having a nervous breakdown. For a long time, my go-to was baking. I got through grad school because of baking. Then I switched to sewing, though only half-assed because I didn't bother to challenge myself. I just wanted results. For the last 8 months, I worked to calm my nerves, which sounds a bit ironic, considering I worked so much that I nearly lost my head. But it's the act of filling time that calms me, not the actual activity.
Or at least that's what I tell myself.
For a few years I banned myself from buying fabric at all. I wasn't permitted to even go to a fabric store for fear of falling off the wagon. And I did pretty well. I only bought fabric when I decided to sew bags to see if I could sell them, to supplement Christmas one year. I didn't sell that many, maybe about 7 or 8, but it was enough to pay for presents for my family and some friends. It, unfortunately, made me think I could buy fabric again.
Lately, I've really been trying not to buy much fabric because I have enough. If it's possible to have enough. But the problem is that I can't stop myself from doing something obsessive, so I've been buying patterns. I have more than I need, more than I can likely make in the next 5 years. And today I picked up a bunch because they were on sale. (I guess that's one thing... I'm really cheap and won't spend much if I don't have to.)
There's a series that I haven't seen before, of just a couple of easy separates done in cute colours. It's Simplicity's Lisette line and I had to stop myself from buying them all today. Only because they were regular price, and I won't spend more than $4 for any pattern unless it's Vogue or vintage. But they are really cute and I broke down and got 2211 because it has a cute top that can be lengthened and a cute A-line skirt. Really, I could probably draft these patterns in a couple of days, but when you're as unmotivated as I am, a few days turn into weeks and months. (Case in point: I still have Christmas presents that I haven't managed to send to friends. They're just sitting there, waiting for me to motivate myself.) I also bought two cuts of fabric to try out the shirt pattern because it's getting to the point when I need shirts that won't require a cardi over top. If I manage to get them done, I'll post. It could be a while.
Or at least that's what I tell myself.
For a few years I banned myself from buying fabric at all. I wasn't permitted to even go to a fabric store for fear of falling off the wagon. And I did pretty well. I only bought fabric when I decided to sew bags to see if I could sell them, to supplement Christmas one year. I didn't sell that many, maybe about 7 or 8, but it was enough to pay for presents for my family and some friends. It, unfortunately, made me think I could buy fabric again.
Lately, I've really been trying not to buy much fabric because I have enough. If it's possible to have enough. But the problem is that I can't stop myself from doing something obsessive, so I've been buying patterns. I have more than I need, more than I can likely make in the next 5 years. And today I picked up a bunch because they were on sale. (I guess that's one thing... I'm really cheap and won't spend much if I don't have to.)
There's a series that I haven't seen before, of just a couple of easy separates done in cute colours. It's Simplicity's Lisette line and I had to stop myself from buying them all today. Only because they were regular price, and I won't spend more than $4 for any pattern unless it's Vogue or vintage. But they are really cute and I broke down and got 2211 because it has a cute top that can be lengthened and a cute A-line skirt. Really, I could probably draft these patterns in a couple of days, but when you're as unmotivated as I am, a few days turn into weeks and months. (Case in point: I still have Christmas presents that I haven't managed to send to friends. They're just sitting there, waiting for me to motivate myself.) I also bought two cuts of fabric to try out the shirt pattern because it's getting to the point when I need shirts that won't require a cardi over top. If I manage to get them done, I'll post. It could be a while.
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