day 10619: too busy living as they call it

On my one night off from family functions and get-togethers, My-Boy-Bacon and I partook in this. Call it morbid curiosity, call it life-long anatomical fascination, call it whatever-you-will… the only thing running through my mind THE ENTIRE TIME …

Who’s broken what... doing what?

day 10618: if you pretend hard enough, it never actually happened

The women in my family are not very good at saying “I’m sorry”.

We tend to fly off the handle at the slightest thing, say things we regret the next day, and then expect everything to blow over by being super nice to each other the next day. Sometimes this backfires… especially when you get reamed out by your mother in the middle of Pacific Mall for something that was entirely unrelated to you.

Yeah, I’m holding a grudge... whaddaya wanna do 'bout it?

day 10617: hope y'all had a fabulous poo-poo-filled christmas

nameless: Is that your phone?
schmassion: What?
nameless: The ringing...
schmassion: No. I'm on a landline.
nameless: oh...I'm pooing.

*click*

~

schmassion: Even the dog is getting into the holiday spirit! She's pooping out red and green!!!
my-boy-bacon: That can't be good... What'd she eat?
schmassion: Don't know, but it's FESTIVE!

ps... My-Boy-Bacon and I are going here in a month... BRRRRR...

day 10608: the meaning of fear

A moment of fear, knee deep in freshly fallen snow, thighs burning, brain surging with thoughts of “why… fcuk it… why,” skis crossing, short breaths, curses under my breath, a twinge of pain and then another. I should not. I would not. But then I did.

There was no way but down. It was too late to turn around. The climb up would hurt just about as much as the run down. Peer pressure. One split second decision after a week of saying “no.” Regrets? Then - yes. Now - maybe. Later – probably not. But much, much later… only time will tell.

It was a surreal moment not too long ago. Ok, crap, it was just over a week ago. The sky was blue, nary a cloud in sight. The occasional bird of prey soared by overhead. The smell of diesel (I’m assuming that snowmobiles run on diesel) was strong, yet somewhat comforting, as was the guttural roar of the vehicle that had come to rescue. An occasional familiar face floated momentarily into view, smiled reassuringly and floated away again.

And me? Flat on my back being pulled down the slopes on a sled. I begged for a lift on the snowmobile. Oh, how I pleaded and bargained to be able to descend with some shred of dignity. But flat on my face, ass up in the air, there was no way in hell they took my entreaty seriously. I tried to make jokes. I tried to laugh. Humour does wonders for the healing the body… or so they say… to no avail.


It was a surprise, the fall. I was coming to a stop, looked uphill for a friend, caught a backedge, fell down and went “Boom!” I thought I was just winded. Things weren’t really in that much pain. The only thing wounded was my pride. That is, until I tried to stand up. Soon afterwards, the only thought running through my head was “Not again, please God, not again… I have to go to Mexico in two months…”

This was supposed to be the year to “go hard or go home.” What’s the worse that I could do to myself that I haven’t already done? Torn rotator cuffs, bruised ribs, sprained ankles, bad knees, broken back… been there done that. Pshaw, I scoff in the face of danger! One week’s rest and I’ll be perfectly fine. No worries, x-rays came back clean. Rest, ice, compress, and elevate… yes, I know… and lots and lots of ibuprofen and muscle relaxants. I know the drill. Like I said, been there, done that.

But I was wrong. Yes, been there, done that, and have always blamed my body for not being able to do what I thought that my mind had wanted to do. First, I was too fat, my body was out of shape, my knees were weak and well, hell, I was just too darned tired all the time. But then I lost the weight, did an extraordinary amount of sit-ups to strengthen my core, my legs and arms were strong, and well, hell, I still couldn’t do it.

My mental game is off. It’s never been on. I very grudgingly admit that I *sigh* am afraid of speed… even on skis (hence, probably the reason for my very limited aspirations to race). Instead of focusing on my ability and gritting my teeth to tackle the slopes, I anticipate the fall. I let the images run over and over inside my head. I can almost feel the weightless sensation in the pit of my stomach. The metallic taste of dread in my mouth, I check my speed and let my fear overrun me.

I am afraid of the pain, and afraid of the repercussions. My body aches, recovery time is longer than it used to be. I don’t want to take the risks that will take me from being a dabbler to being an actual skier or snowboarder. I used to call myself that… a skier… and to a lesser extent, a snowboarder… but I no longer deserve the distinction that either one of those labels afford.

I used to love the snow blowing into my face, the coolness of the air against my teeth, the feeling of being alive and being indestructible. I should be filled with the anticipation and the exhilaration of flying down the snow covered slopes. Instead, my heart pounds, and not in a good way. I am afraid to step beyond my limitations, comfortable only in the familiar.

This is wrong. I should not fear the fear. I should not let my mind play games with me. Same as climbing, my mind blocks me from achieving the next step. I have the ability, but the mental game I play constantly with myself hinders me.

day 10606: when words aren’t enough

My mother’s friend is dying.

She found out only about a month ago and has been undergoing extreme chemo treatments to try to battle the disease that is rapidly killing her. But the treatments that are supposed to help her are killing her. She hasn’t been able to eat, hasn’t been able to keep down the pills she takes to help fight the nausea. She doesn’t even have the energy to undress so that someone can bathe her.

The prognosis isn’t good. It’s down to a matter of months.

But she has courage, and she has hope. So much hope that she hasn’t even told her extended family members for fear that they’d worry needlessly. Other than her immediate family, and her friends that are helping to care for her, no one knows. Her husband and kids are still living the same day-in-day-out rituals - running businesses in Hong Kong, going to work and studying for exams in the UK and Germany. They haven’t even flown home to Toronto to visit.

Perhaps they will at Christmas time.

She’s staying with my mother while she undergoes treatment. The nurse comes over once a day to monitor her IV drips and medication. Otherwise, she’d be home alone, lying in a pool of vomit, suffering in a silence that she doesn’t deserve. And though she is relying on the goodwill of others to help her through this, it took a lot for her to even ask. This is the woman who was fielding donation calls for her charities even on the way to the emergency room. She is one of the most selfless women I know, always going out of her way to make life easier for others. She has a strength of will that I admire.

I wish I was more like her.

I wish I could take the pain away from her. I wish there was more that I could do for her.

But I can barely talk to her. My linguistic ability is somewhat limited, and the words will not come to me. I don’t know what to say to make her feel better. I don’t know what I can do to let her know that I care.

I’ve offered my chauffer services to my mother. If ever they need a drive… through rain, through snow, I will be there in a matter of minutes. Apart from that, I don’t know what else to do, except perhaps feel guilty that I’ve been running around relatively healthy tripping from city to city for the pure enjoyment of being young and responsibility free... enjoying my life while others hate their's.

There has to be something more that I can do…

day 10604: so this is christmas?

It will be a year soon since the night we sat talking in the hall when everyone else was dreaming happily about snow. I asked you then if you missed me, and you replied, "All the time. I miss hanging out with you. I miss being close to you. I miss curling up with you, and waking up with my arm all tingly because you slept on it all night."

Sometimes, I still wonder the same.

We embarked an a path of discovery that night. We talked like we had never talked before. The year that we had been together were filled with other things besides talking. We were too busy laughing, and too busy living, but only in the moment, never thinking about the future.

I was happy that we were finally friends again. I was happy that we were finally “us” again.

But it shouldn’t have been that way. Even back then, we should have let things be and gone our separate ways. It would have been easier on my heart, easier on my mind and infinitely better for my soul. The subsequent six months would not have been and I would not have fallen more deeply in love with you. I never thought that I would care that much about a person.

When you broke my heart, you did it gently. You told me that you loved me, but that you weren’t in love with me. You were 95% there, but something was missing and it just didn’t feel right. I tried my best to love for two, but if we were not meant to be, we were not meant to be. I could not make you love me, and had you settled for only 95%, you would not have been true to yourself. I never wanted you to settle.

That night, I begged you to come home with me so that you could hold me one more night. I wouldn’t let you sleep for fear that the morning would come too soon. We made love one last time. You left early the next morning, and I cried one last time, got up, dressed for work, and started living my life without you. I mourned you. I missed you. I still loved you.

I hoped that we could eventually be friends again. You had been my best friend for so long. I didn’t want to lose that, too.

And then I found out the truth. The truth about the bachelor party in Montreal… the drunken night… the “friends” who were cops… and I found out that you had betrayed me. The lies you told me were bitter and they stung. The pain I felt encompassed me and surrounded me with a blanket of hatred. I confronted you, swore at you, and hated you for so long.

You almost killed me when you said, “It’s not like we were married.”

Yet, I still defended you, and to this day, still hide the truth from our friends. I knew that they would judge you harshly, and I didn’t want you to lose them. But you’ve chosen to withdraw from our circle, and for that, I am somewhat grateful. I protected your reputation for so long, because, really, I was still in love with you even though I didn’t like you. Yes, it is possible to love someone you don’t like.

It’s been an eon and a half since that day. I found an inner strength that I didn’t know I possessed. I moved on, and found someone else to love. And yes, I am falling in love with him. He is gentle, he is kind, and best of all, he is the man that you will never be… loyal, honest, compassionate beyond belief. He cares deeply for me, and calls me “Beautiful” everyday. Not a day goes by that I don’t think how lucky I am to have found someone like him. And instead of me thinking that you never deserved me, it’s me thinking that I don’t deserve him.

I still think of you. I will never forget you. I will always care for you, and will probably always miss you, the thoughts, the memories and the experiences that we shared. We parted in a way where we will never be friends. If we ever cross paths again, I’m not sure how I would react, but I hope that my words to you would be “Thank you.”

Thank you for letting me go so that I could have a chance at something better.

There is so much more that I could say, but I will end it here. I hope that you are happy. I hope that you never have any regrets in your life. Be true to who you are, and don’t let people influence you to be something you are not and were never meant to be. Because that was always your greatest downfall… trying to prove to others that you were someone that you were not. Choose your friends wisely. Not everyone has your best interests at heart.

I wish you all the best in life and hope that you eventually find what you’ve been looking for all these years.

Merry Christmas, Triscuit. I’m done with you.

day 10596: nutrition for dummies… part 1

Hypothetically speaking, should you go to the Vitamin Store to buy psyllium husk because you read in the paper that adding fibre to your diet helps with cholesterol and weight maintenance, and the guy recommends very strongly that you don’t because you’re already “regular,” you should probably believe him. He knows what he’s talking about...

day 10595: when you’re upset… I’ll find a way to cheer you up…

Excuse me. I need to talk about my vacation carry forward... I really need it. My sister-in-law's brother's dog-groomer's uncle's mother is getting married next summer and I promised that I would be there.

Where is it? Everest... It'll take me six weeks to hike up that damn thing.

Really, though, we're not even sure the wedding will go forward. After all, my sister-in-law's brother's dog-groomer's uncle's mother is 93 and a 6 week trek up 30,000ft is a little much for her.

She's working up to it though... she's walking around the block everyday.

It only takes her an hour... and a half... on the good days.

One of those san francisco hill blocks?

No… a Pacific Mall block...

day 10594: How do you rock? Let me count the ways...

~ Pre-dinner drunkenness
~ Beer showers
~ Post-dinner drunkenness
~ Surprises
~ Sparkles
~ All-you-can-eat
~ All-I-can-drink
~ All in
~ Vroooooommmmm
~ Bikes
~ Much imbibing
~ Much bling-blinging
~ Much saving of horses and riding of cowboys

Thank you. You guys are wicked.

Giddy-up.

day 10590: not sure whether to be flattered or insulted

I met with some insurance people yesterday (just for kicks). They loved me and thought I'd fit in perfectly with their corporate culture. I thought they were a bunch of your typical introverted accountants/finance geeks.

Apparently, somewhere along the line, I've become one of them.

Damn. I thought I had finally developed a personality.