Two steps forward, one step back
On a good day, the pattern of my life can be described in only six words: Two steps forward, one step back. On a bad day? It’s those words, only in reverse.
Today is feeling like a two steps forward kind of day.
How is your day going?
Armageddon!
My father may be one of the few people on this earth to find the whole worldwide recession slash stock market crash combination amusing. Every day, without fail, he will turn on the TV when he has a free moment just to see how bad things have gotten since he last checked, and when the dow drops fifty million points and another bank goes bankrupt, he yells out the news to whomever is in the house at the time, following it up with, “the armageddon! it’s the armageddon!”
He is having way too much fun with this.
And how are you doing?
Things that are still hard for me to do:
- Answering emails, replying messages and returning phone calls within 72 hours
- Letting different areas of my life intermingle (personal, business, etc.)
- Being upfront with people and not sugarcoating how I really feel
- Going to bed before midnight
Things that are getting easier for me to do:
- Spending money on clothing
- Losing weight instead of gaining it. (Now at 130lbs, without even trying at all!)
- Putting pride aside in matters of relationships
- Letting go of my perfectionist tendencies where it doesn’t count
Things that are, surprisingly enough, no longer an issue:
- Talking on the phone with people I don’t know
- Eating less, eating slower, eating earlier and eating more often
- Running errands in the neighborhood and/or walking the dog without wearing a “proper” bra
- Drinking lots of water and taking my vitamins daily
They call me smart, but really, I’m just a little brilliant
Some people waste time, and other spend time wondering where they wasted it.
In a series of universally-correct, astoundingly astute observations of myself in my natural habitat, I have formally come to the conclusion that I would get so much more done if I did not have:
- A website to write in.
- A tumblr to do everything in.
- A twitter account to update.
- A facebook account to lurk in.
- A flickr account to post in.
So really, it’s not at all my fault that I’m an easily-distracted procrastinator. It’s the internet’s fault.
That feels so much better.
Women are confusing? SAY IT AIN’T SO!
It has been said that women are confusing creatures. Personally, I have no idea why anyone would say such a thing—I mean, when have women ever been known for anything but being crystal clear and speaking what’s really on their minds?
So, in order to bust this myth, I decided to observe the only woman in my life who wouldn’t kill me if I quoted her on the The Internets. Below are some of the following requests made by my lovely mother in the last 24 hours:
“Get me that thing in my purse.”
“Bring me that paper from my desk.”
“Can you get me my book for me?”
“Did you do that thing I told you to do?”
(She doesn’t like wasting adjectives, you see.)
The obligatory “going on vacation, wish you were coming!” post
Today I leave for Hope, British Columbia to attend a 10 day conference in the middle of nowhere. I’ve been going since I was three and unlike all my other trips, this one is uniquely different in the way that it is the closest I ever come to camping. Or the wilderness. Or a combination of both.
(Of course, I’m staying in a trailer, not a tent, and I’ll probably bring those hot pair of heels I picked up in California, but the lack of a hotel, city and internet and the possibility of bears and mountain lions makes this trip camping in the wilderness, Chanel-style.)
Despite the obvious setbacks of being in a location where there is no internet, I am terribly excited about leaving. We’re even bringing the boat up, and while I can assure you there will be no waketubing, I will sit on the bow, dangle my feet in the water and try not to tan. And it will be lovely.
Have double the fun for me, internet!
Simply lovely
For the past week or so, I have woken up to bright sunny days, clear blue skies, warm weather and a perfect summer breeze. It’s hard to come up with the right words to explain just how lovely it is to be outside under the shade, a gentle breeze tussling my hair and tickling my skin while I sip tea and relax to sounds of my favorite old records and the dull hum of distant traffic. Nothing can accurately describe the experience, suffice to say I would glad live this moment a million times through.
It’s remarkably easy to live a busy life.
It’s remarkably less easy to slow down, unwind and just be.
No distractions. No phones. No work. No people. No problems. No drama. No worries. Nothing to do. Nothing to say. Nothing to be. I enjoy a good day filled with productivity as much as the next workaholic, but sometimes the soul just craves a solitude that only comes from leaving the world and creating a whole new one for just you and yourself.
Just you and yourself.
Try it sometime.
And this is why I take public transit everywhere
On the way home from Surrey tonight (DON’T EVEN SAY A WORD), a girl sitting across from me on the Skytrain started a conversation with me. It began with a comment about a fighting couple that had just gotten off and ended with the story of how she had just broken up with her boyfriend of twelve years.
They have two kids together. She always paid for things like groceries and utilities. He always paid for things like the TV and the barbecue. Guess who got what.
Breakups are always so messy. The Dividing Of The Stuff makes it all that much harder.
But damn, 12 years? And two kids?
It kind of made me realize, shit, the things we go through for happiness.
This will probably get us shot
The other day a good friend and I were talking about terrorists, because you know, that subject totally comes up in all my conversations. RIGHT UP THERE WITH THE RISING COST OF OIL PRICES.
Brainwashing aside, don’t these guys ever question the situation they’ve found themselves in? Forget about the blowing up and killing part - they’re promised a certain number of virgins in the next life for “martyrdom”… Aren’t you going to ask for photos first?
After all, you may never know who you’re going to get…
Male friend:
Personally, I’d need to see their pictures firstMale friend:
Maybe like a myspaceChanel:
I wonder what would happen if one of them asked?Male friend:
Terrorist: “May I view a picture of one of my virgins before I strap these bombs on my back?”Chanel:
Muhammad: “Yes, you may” … *hands over a picture*Chanel:
Terrorist: “WTF DUDE, THAT’S MY SISTER!”
For the things you wanted to say
As seen scrawled into the back of a stall door in the ladies washroom at a rest stop off the I-5 North:
TRUE LOVE WAITS
For what?
A confirmation number
I love reading the things people write on the walls in the stalls of bathrooms.
At first glance, most bathroom graffiti typically looks like trash—you know, the usual suspects of “JESSICA WUZ HERE” and “JT+BS FOR EVA”—and if you take it for face value, it’s nothing more than that. But if you really think about it, everything written on those walls has a story behind them. People do everything for a reason, even if they don’t consciously know the reason for it at the time.
Whenever I read the things people write on walls, I simply can’t help but wonder about the author’s life: Are JT and BS still together? What’s Jessica doing now? … And when you read particularly chilling words like “I can’t take this anymore”… Are you still hanging in there?
It’s such an odd thought, looking over a cluttered wall and knowing that many, many people have been exactly where you are, and of all those people, some of them felt particularly impressed to write something on the walls surrounding them. They’re each strangers to the next, all going through different things in life, some coming in, some going out… But the one thing these strangers all have in common is the wall. They wrote on the wall.
We’re not all that far apart from each other as may we think.
What’s the most memorable thing you’ve ever seen on a bathroom wall?
