You Can’t Make Me

I don’t feel like writing, you can’t make me.

The move is postponed (yet again). I think this Monday now. Steve (the renovating guy) says he will be out there to finish up this week. My brother plans to take the futon (which will be my thing to sit on and bed for awhile) down there tomorrow, probably. He is going to try assembling it but didn’t have much luck last time he tried. Luckily, I am a woman with my own set of tools. Where no man has gone before a woman shall triumph. (I’m sure that’s a quote somewhere).

So now you know. I’d say good night but I’m drinking coffee and you really can’t talk and swallow at the same time. However, you can type. One handed typing. My hand is on the coffee, not where you were thinking! Nasty…. nasty… nasty…

Spike and Malice: It’s a Game

Because I have roughly two days left to move I’m going to spend today out with Zack. We are going to Newmarket to see a movie and drop in on his Mother. She is leaving for a week in Cuba and wanted to see her son before she leaves.

I hope my sister never reads this. It’s hugely unlikely since none of my family bother with my writing, they think it’s my useless hobby. I don’t even know if they would change their attitude if I were making a regular (even hefty) pay cheque. So, at some point you just stop being concerned about it. Just take their knocks and keep on ticking, doing what you need to do to stay alive. Anyway, my sister would not be happy to read what I never say to her face. To be politically correct (that means nice) I will just say she is not a natural mother type.

So, we are visiting today when I should be packing and planning. I did have good intentions. My road to hell is well paved by now. Luckily I’m not someone who believes in hell. I have no idea where my paved road is really going. Isn’t that kind of a good thing? If you really knew where you were going to end up would you always want to put the energy into making the journey. I expect a lot of people would take a lot of short cuts and bypass a lot of life: sad parts, angry parts, bad parts and so on. All those things make life though. The hard parts make the soft parts more worth having.

So there’s my philosophical moment for the day, well, for this half hour or so.

If you’re in Newmarket at the Silver City watching Just my Luck today, wave to me. I’ll just be pretending I don’t know you and that blank look is all just a polite way of saying hello in my culture.

Two Days and Insurmounting

I often deal with things by not dealing with them. This works well, up to a point.

Tonight I realized that I have this weekend to actually do the moving thing and then Monday I will be actually in the moving activation mode. I got that sickening feeling of an approaching insurmountable deadline. Don’t you hate that sick, sinking feeling of time catching up with you no matter how hard you try to run in the other direction?

So, even though Zack is here and my Mom is here and they are well known for being expert time suckers, I must focus and prepare for the activation of the moving plan.

I will even make a ‘to-do’ list. How organized and well planned is that? I knew you’d be impressed. Of course, it’s too late to start any of that well intentioned activity now. It’s dark outside.

The Old Bag Strikes Back

I’m a woman. I checked recently. Aren’t I supposed to think all children are dears and wish for a pack of my own?

Sometimes I’d still like a couple of kids. Then I have my sister’s little children come visit and I re-think that plan. Maybe it’s just a poor example. Not a great case study. My own kidlets might not be as demanding or self centred? My Mother wouldn’t send me scurrying to fulfill the little darlings ever mere wish. I feel like I’m their personal maid, butler and chef. She even asked me to help Roxanne put on her sock. Rox is 3 and has been putting on her own sock for awhile now. I’m just an old bag with cramps. I need a break. Harness those kids up and let them fetch and carry for me. I’d like another Midol with a fresh coffee and one of those gingersnap cookies on the side.

Bite My Butt

I don’t hear from John very often any more. But I still send him an email a couple of times a week. This was part of an email I sent tonight. Judge me however you will. But, now you know the secret.

Tomorrow night I have a date with a married man. Just dinner and
conversation. I told my Mom he just wants a friend and in part he
does. I want companionship and intimacy to some degree. I want a
conversation where someone isn’t henpecking at me and making me feel
totally inadequate. I don’t know if I will see him again after
tomorrow night. It’s a complete blank page. I don’t want to ‘date’ a
married man. It’s not the direction I want to take. I set out to find
someone as single as I am. Most of the single men are only interested
in sex and not me. It’s very discouraging to have them ask whether I’m
shaved or not versus what books I like to read. I stopped answering
all the ads and the replies to my posts cause it just became too much.

I’m not sure what I really expect from this date. A lot of things are going on in my mind. We have some interests in common and he seems like a guy I could really enjoy spending time with. Yet, getting attached to him, beyond a certain level, would not be a good thing. It will be interesting.

Don’t leave comments with high moral fibre. I already know all the reasons a good girl wouldn’t date a married man. It’s yet one more of those things I said I’d never do. So often it’s those ‘never’ things that come back and bite you in the butt.

The Clothes Make the Woman

The sky looks like soft silver today. It’s sunny and windy and we’ve had the odd rain sprinkling down. I wish I could grab my purse, stick on my sandals and go for a drive. A short road trip. Maybe just to Barrie for coffee and book window shopping. Maybe a quickie burger stop too. At times I just crave a good hamburger with lots of pickles and lettuce and other assorted green stuff.

I never knew I was car addicted. Not until now, when it’s too late and the car is gone. I think it was 2 weeks ago yet it feels like two weeks ago, at least. I miss getting and going. I miss being able to satisfy my cravings for a coffee out, a burger or to run over (I didn’t mean to hit that squirrel) and fetch a bag of milk.

Oh well, soon I will be in car-less territory. The land of no parking and city drivers. It’s better this way, right?

Tomorrow night I am borrowing a car and will be meeting Jim in Newmarket. I’m a bit nervous, yet I’m looking forward to an evening out too. What to wear…? Clothing is a good idea. I have new blue shoes, garden shoes they called them at Canadian Tire. I don’t care. They’re light and airy on my feet. It’s like walking barefoot. Other the shoe thing I have no plan for what to wear. Likely it will end up being something clean and yet comfortable.


Before you read this you should know it’s from a girl’s site who believes in anorexia. They call them pro-ana. The sites usually have pictures of skinny women and haunting poetry and journals. Don’t read this without being ready to be haunted.

Most women live their lives in a state of starvation,
why should I be any different?
Quod me nutrit,
me destruit.
We turn skeletons into goddesses,
and look to them as if they might
teach us how not to need.
When I wake, I’m empty, light,
I like to stay this way,
free and pure, light on my feet,
traveling light.
For me, food’s only interest
lies in how little I need,
how strong I am,
how well I can resist,
each time achieving
another small victory of the will.
I, the hunger artist,
rarely disappoint my audience.
The difference between want and need
is self control.
Hunger hurts,
but starving works.

An Ordinary Girl

Skinny Girls Will Haunt You

I was reviewing some pro-ana sites this morning. It’s not easy looking at and reading sites where young women talk about starving themselves to fit into some skeletal ideal woman they think they need to be in order to be happy.

Here are some quotes from another of the sites. I edited out others, these were of interest to me.

“Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take youre eyes off your goal.” ~ Henry Ford

“It is never too late to be who you might have been.” ~ George Eliot

“Out of the strain of the doing, into the peace of the done.” ~ Julia Woodruff

“Nobody trips over mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble. Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain.” ~ Unknown

“Success isn’t a result of spontaneous sombustion. You must set yourself on fire.” ~ Arnold H Glasow

“Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.” ~ Unknown

“One half of knowing what you want is knowing what you give up before you get it.” ~ Sidney Howard