Sunday, February 28

day 12138: GO CANADA GO!!!

Whiskey was a nervous wreck during the gold medal hockey game!

Friday, February 26

day 12136: why?

This past week, a number of people asked me why I tend to be harder on potential suitors than on people who are already part of my life and commented that if I were to be as easy-going with suitors-to-be, my success rate at finding someone would be a lot higher.

Good point, I always replied. I never had an answer to the question. I didn’t realize that I was harder on them. But really, shouldn’t the person I end up with be the absolute best person for me? And in order to find that person, shouldn’t I be a little more selective in the process?

I’ve been mulling it over and the reasons I came up with are pretty lame. Many of them have to do with my own insecurities and fears. Some of them have to do with stupidity (both his and mine) and some are just based on some deep rooted sense of self-protection stemming from the same insecurities and fears. But the reason that bothers me most, however, is that I’m starting to think that I’m waiting for the proverbial lightning bolt.

Maybe I’ve been reading too many “relationship” articles on the web, or maybe I’m just waiting for someone to make an impressive gesture. Who knows? All I really want to know is can I even be called picky if I don’t even have a tick-list of requirements? Or is having no tick-list another way that I subconsciously run away from the issue?

Or will my gut kick in and I’ll automatically know that one day I’ll be head-over-heels for someone I just met? That’s only happened once and I never saw him again.

Tuesday, February 23

day 12133: all my ducks in a row

For the first time in a long time, I went to bed feeling happy and content. At first I didn’t recognize the emotion. It was an eerie calm. I lay in bed with the brat’s head on my shoulder and whispered my secrets into her ears. She stared at me with her soulful brown eyes and licked my chin every once in a while as if to tell me that she understood what I was saying. The events of the day retreated into the grey of the night and all my problems seemed so very far away. All was good in my little world.

I had made a list of things I wanted to accomplish and one-by-one, I ticked them off. Bookshelves, closets and storage organized. Money matters resolved. Life matters on the way to being sorted out… all that remains now is to take down the star-lights and dismember the tent that I set up in my spare room for the kiddies. And then on to the next project.

Monday, February 22

day 12132: makes for a nice rom-com, eh?

Once upon a time, there was a guy who had a crush on a girl. Girl wasn’t supposed to know about the crush, found out anyway and did absolutely nothing because hey, she didn’t even know the guy.

Poor guy. :(

Guy moves on but for some reason the girl doesn’t.

Poor girl. :(

Ending needs work, but at least there’s a beginning.

Friday, February 19

day 12129: perhaps not as lost as I think I am

There’s no question that I live a life full of befuddlement. I’ve never known exactly what I want out of life. I putter and bounce around from one activity to the next, pick up hobbies and drop them just as quickly. A lot of my hobbies revolve(d) around sports and physical activities and a lot of them do (did) not. And that is sometimes really fun. Occasionally it isn’t as much fun, especially on those days that I feel goal-less and don’t know where I’m headed.

The past little while, I’ve been feeling a lot more lost and confused than usual. All sports and most physical activities are on hold until further notice (damn torn ligaments in both ankles), which leaves me with an extraordinary amount of time for self-pity, overeating and contemplation. I tried to fill in the hole with baking/caking classes and other non-strenuous activities (i.e. Olympics watching), but it only delayed finding the solution. Booking my calendar full of dinners and doggie play-dates wasn’t the solution I was looking for. All it did was to make time go by.

And so a couple of weeks ago I started seeing a life coach. I’ve been told what to do for so long that I need someone to tell me how to find myself again. I can’t do it on my own. I realize that, and I fully admit that. I need an independent person to help me identify my values and my strengths and to help me figure out what is it I really dream to be.

Two weeks into a ten week session and things aren’t that much clearer (not that it’s meant to be an instant fix). I still have no idea what I want to achieve with my life, but I’ve learned a fair bit about myself. I value creativity, beauty and achieving results. I don’t like wasted effort and I want to be recognized for investing my time and effort into projects. Money isn’t super important to me, but I need security. I also have a need to be authentic, to use my own voice and to be independent in a lot of things.

I learned that I have to start putting myself as a priority and to stop letting other people have as much of a say or input in what I do or don’t do. And that by giving others this power over me and the ability to censor me, I’m just doing more damage to myself and echoing their negativity in my head where I should be encouraging myself to follow the things that make me happy.

Good in theory, but what about in practice?

In all my bouncing around, there have only been a few things that I’ve felt remotely passionate about. Climbing came and went, and maybe, hopefully one day I’ll get back into it, but it’s has a finite life and my body is too out of sorts to even contemplate making a comeback. The other two things that have stuck with me are this blog (six and a half years) and the cakes (3 years maybe?). I keep waiting for the phase to end, for me to drop the blog and the cakes completely, but it has yet to happen, and that makes me think that maybe, just maybe I’ve actually been doing what I dreamed of doing all along.

So over the next little while, I’m going to write a little more, cake a little more and work on finding my own voice and developing my own style. Not that I’m looking for fame and fortune, I just have to be happy with what I do (and I’m pretty darn happy about some things that I’ve done). I almost feel like my passion is found.


Friday, February 5

day 12115: something nice and fluffy on a friday afternoon

... the fridge conversation between the maternal one, uncle t. and myself after the Brat ate a third of a block of butter...