We Got It Going On

Did you know that Hedley will be opening for Bon Jovi when they do their Canada tour starting next month? Yeah. I knew. Can't go. Well . . . could go, but it would be highly irresponsible of me, lol. I haven't been doing hardly any travelling this year. Really. I mean I may have been to Fredericton once or twice, the same with Moncton. This could have drastic repercussions on the old income tax thing :-( No business trips. No workshops. Well, very few workshops. I might be going to Fredericton next month for a trade show. Details are sketchy on that one. I'm not sure it's a BnM thing.

More strange dreams last night. Arguing with Stace about work stuff. I can't remember the details. But it was like we were in this big long disagreement as we were walking to a meeting or something. We were in a big building, walking through empty halls, passing many glassed in rooms. I had my notebook with me, so it felt like we were going to an interview. All I remember about the discussion itself was her saying, "Are you sure you want to do that?" It was about work stuff but when we got to where we were going it wasn't a work related thing. Her hubby was there and another guy and it was like a set-up blind date thingy. Except the guy and I knew one another. It was her sisters' boyfriend . . . and she was all like, "Oh, just give him a chance, hang out, see if you like him." So we hung out. And had a laugh. And it was actually kinda fun. And then it dawned on me, "Ummm, how's Janice feel about all this?" I asked Stacy and she just shrugged and said, "Oh a change would be good for her, don't you think? I've got someone in mind for her too." And then I looked through the window into the adjoining room and there was Janice . . . with my brother-in-law! LMAO Crazy dreams. Comic relief, that one.

Mood: chipper
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: two guys (for every girl), peaches featuring beth ditto
Hair: limp

Sluggish

Really tired today. Sluggish. Wiped out from last night's dreams. Arthritis weighing in too, damn weather. Kinda achy.

I dreamed I went to TO. I went to find my ex, it was like his sister had called me because she was worried about him. So I went. He wasn't living in the same place. He was up north, on a farm, like a compound. People everywhere strung out on drugs. Young girls travelling around mostly naked right out of it. Lots of armed men. Like a gang or something. I don't know how I even got into the house. I found him upstairs in a king-sized bed. There were a half dozen other people in the bed. Everyone stoned.

When he saw me he came to life, smiled, got up and came to me, gave me a hug. He smelled like a dirty ashtray. He seemed so helpless. Like a little boy. I took him into the bathroom and put him into a bath. All he could do was look at me and smile sadly. Touch my face like he thought I might disappear. Like I was a vision or a dream. I got him cleaned up and dressed in his cleanest dirty clothes. Then I took his hand and led him downstairs and outside.

We sat on the step in the autumn chill, the grass was dead, the trees bare, it was like late November when the world goes dull grey, before the snow sticks. We just sat there, holding hands, not saying anything. Then I asked him if he would come back to the city with me. When he turned to look at me his eyes were glossed with tears. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, like someone who hadn't spoke for a long time. He told me that even if he wanted to leave he'd taken the vow and he would be killed if he tried to leave. We sat there again for a long while and he squeezed my hand rhythmically, like a pulse.

You could see our breath in the air as the afternoon turned into evening. I didn't want to leave him there. He seemed so lost and alone. A convoy of 4x4 trucks spun into the drive and a bunch of young guys in mirrored sunglasses, ripped jeans, black t-shirts, leather vests, and scuffed boots leaped to the ground holding long guns. In seconds I had a bunch of rifles trained on me. Who is this? they demanded. He grinned and stood, introduced me as an old friend he had invited to visit. Apologized if he'd broken the rules. Swore to the men that I would be no trouble. To my surprise they believed him, lowered their guns and we all went inside.

That night we slept on the floor huddled together for warmth in an old sleeping bag. There were people sleeping all around us. Surrounded by snoring. In the dark he whispered that he would come with me. That we'd leave. It would be okay. Anyone who came to this place was not allowed to leave, and that included me. If I had tried to walk out of there on my own without him, I would be shot. He'd been instructed to drug me, to keep me drugged, until I no longer wanted to leave.

The next day after most of the men with guns had left for the day to carry out their business, we left and ran through a field next to the house. We came out on a shore where there was an old rowboat. We got into the water and tried to paddle but with the waves and the tide and our complete lack of sense of direction we ended up just a few feet away from where we had launched. We went again on foot, running into some trees, running through a dark forest until we broke at the edge of another field. There was an old red Ford half-ton parked in the lane. We sneaked over to it, slipped inside and he tried to get it going. There were people around, working the farm, sometimes passing the vehicle as they went from barn to house doing chores. Other vehicles pulled in beside us. But nobody saw us crouched on the floor and lying across the seat. Nobody looked inside. Nobody opened the door.

It was getting late. Soon the men would be back and realize we'd left. They'd go looking for us, and we'd only just gotten to the farm next door. Finally, when it got dark and all the people were inside having dinner, we got the truck started and sputtered out the lane and onto a dark highway. We headed south toward the city. The gas tank was nearly empty. I told him to stop at the nearest station. He was afraid. His group were powerful around here. We couldn't count on anyone helping us. I opened my purse to see how much money I had for gas. They'd taken my wallet while I slept. They had all my ID. They knew who I was and where I lived. I couldn't go home. He couldn't go home. As this dawned on me, I looked at him. He grinned. It's just me and you from now on, he said. All we've got is each other. We need to get as far away as we can.

I woke up and it was 4:45. I felt like I'd been through the wars. Exhausted. I rolled over and went back to sleep. In a few minutes I was back in the truck with him, on the dark highway, looking for a vehicle to cipher some gas from. We had to steal, couldn't take a chance on anyone seeing us. Hours and hours of us on the road, driving. Talking. Every now and then having a close call with the bad guys. The same dream until I finally rolled over at 9:30 this morning and said, "Screw this!" And got up to face the day. It's after lunch and I still feel like if I were to close my eyes I'd be right back there in the dream. My eyelids are droopy. I'm stifling yawns. There's a buzzing in my brain. I feel like I haven't slept at all.

God, I hate nights like that!

Mood: fuzzy, foggy, feeble
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: long walk home, bruce springsteen
Hair: curiously strong

Porchlight

I'm running late this morning. Only have a few minutes to blog before I gotta boot, scoot 'n boogie. It is Mighty Monday after all! Yesterday was a good day. I had a good time. Coffee stretched into a walk, ice cream, another walk, magic tricks, hours of conversation and more. A four or five hour relaxing comfortable time, rather than a half hour of trying to fill agonizingly uncomfortable silences. This is good. Wants to see me again. And likewise :-) Nothing like anybody else, which is promising I guess. Need to be careful not to repeat past patterns and errors in judgment.

Another crazy week on the rise. Have to get many more interviews done this week. Should be in full writing mode next week, no interviews left. This taking the weekend off for a personal life stuff is throwing me off my game a bit. I'm used to having 7 work days per week, not five. Well, four, Mighty Monday never seems to bring about much productivity.

Okay. Scooting!

Mood: absent minded
Drinking: coffee, black, cheapo compliments
Listening To: blank page, smashing pumpkins
Hair: ponied up for the day

Radio Nowhere

Yeah, I thought the time changed last night. I had it marked on my calendar even. I didn't change the clock though, it usually takes me a few days to get around to doing that, but I woke this morning at 7:30 thinking smugly to myself, "Hey it's really only 6:30! Aren't I swift this morning?" And I rolled over and laid there planning breakfast, my day, etc. thinking I had time to kill before Corrie came on. Nevertheless I flicked on the tv about 15 minutes later only to find to my surprise Corrie was already in progress! WTF?! Did CBC not turn their clocks back? So I watched Corrie and had breakfast and stumbled around in a stupor unsure what time it was exactly until after 10 when I turned on the computer and asked Google. It's still Daylight Savings Time until next weekend apparently. Okay. So now I feel kinda rushed like I lost another hour :-( It's okay. I guess I'll get it back next Sunday.

Today, I have a date. Yes, a real date. The mysterious love life comes to the surface. On the one hand, I'm semi-nervous in that first date kinda way. On the other hand, I'm thinking it's really no big deal. I'm just going for coffee with a nice intelligent man who just happens to think I'm beautiful. No big deal.

I will not be wearing my latest hat to this venture. Maybe if it clouds over . . . but never in bright sunshine again, lol, because I think the silver threads catch the sunlight and turn ole Kellie into quite the spectacle. On Friday I went to the rink to interview the coach of the junior hockey team. I walked. In the sunshine. Wearing my hat. Oh boy! Who knew the hat was such a force to be reckoned with?! Nearly everyday I walk and nobody notices me in my ponytail as I zip up the highway and through downtown. Occasionally, an elderly couple will smile and say hello as I pass them, but other than that, I might as well not exist. But I put on the hat and suddenly every passing truck honks, cars slow and the men behind the wheels give me broad grins and big waves, did I even see a wink at the lights?! Every guy I meet on the street smiles and says, "Great day!" Was that whistle for me? I've got men rushing up the steps to beat me to the door so they can hold it open for me. I walked into the Farmer's Market and all the guys sitting having their coffee nudged one another and pointed. I made my rounds and as I passed the tables on my way out I heard them buzzing, "There she goes again, boys! Who's that girl? Who is that?" My God! It's a hat people! Get a grip!

So yeah, a little attention is not a bad thing. But that was too much. Like WAY too much. The hat is a menace to society. Who knew? I think I'll have to retire it, tuck it away, a secret weapon to seal the deal. Had I known of its super power though, I might have worn it to the college on Thursday evening . . .

Mood: a little nervous
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: queen of apology, the sounds
Hair: up and back in black

Rock 'n Roll

The Internet is slow this morning. But I am not! I slept well last night. Might have been exhaustion, perhaps all the wine, but I was out and down for the count. I had my alarm set for 7 this morning, but I woke up at 5 feeling refreshed (if thirsty) so I watched the first half hour of a repeat of last night's The Hour with my boyfriend and then I got up, got dressed in my sweats, the Fundy green warm and fuzzy coat, a ball cap, pedometer, and mp3 player plugged into my head and then I hit the street for a walk. In particular I wanted to know how long the loop up the highway to the lights, down the hill by the dry cleaners, around the corner past the motel, up the hill by the legion and back down the highway to home too. It's about 20 minutes. Not bad. I could probably stretch it out to 30 if I did the side street crisscross.

I was going to make ham and eggs for breakfast but once I got back and got coffee into me really all I wanted was some rice cakes with peanut butter. So, that's what I'm doing. Maybe later I'll have a bigger more protein filled second breakfast. I'm going out around 9:30 to do an interview. I might wander into the Farmer's market. I have Sears parcels to exchange at some point but I'll have to make an extra trip for that. Tonight there's a book launch downtown. I might go. But that would be four walks in one day! Hold on! Is it possible I'm becoming an active person? :-)

Mood: thinking about showering
Drinking: coffee and water
Listening To: two guys for every girl, peaches
Hair: ponied up

Love Love Love This!

Have I Been Sleeping For All These Years?

Maybe I'm not drinking enough water. Or maybe I've got some sinus/allergy thing going on. I have this nagging hint of a headache that I can't seem to shake. I slept WAY too late today. Can't seem to catch up. I was supposed to go to the movies tonight, but I'm not now, so maybe if I use my evening time wisely I can get on top of things. Tomorrow is going to be a purely insane day. I need to figure out logistics, costume changes, cash needed on hand for such a big run-around day. Friday is only slightly less hectic, but at least it all happens on my side of the river so there'll be no crossing the bridge multiple times via taxi. It's $12.50 to cross the bridge. Maybe $15 to go one place I need to be. That's like pocket change in comparison to my past life. I used to spend $50 a day in taxi fares when I lived in TO. I'm talking 5 or 6 days a week. Honestly! Can you imagine?! $200-$300 in taxis every week! And that was a long time ago, lord knows what it'd cost today. The times they be a changing. When I think back on my lifestyle then, it's no wonder everything fell apart, I cracked and dropped out. Drinks every night after work. Sleeping 2-3 hours only per night. All meals eaten out. 100 hours on the job per week. I mean $250 on average just for frigging taxis. I was a crazy person. Facing a day like tomorrow takes me back there and makes me cringe a little, but then I remember it's only one day and no matter what it's still the Maritime version of hectic, which is never as fast paced as the Toronto version. Never. No need to ever move that fast again. Whew! What a relief?

In other news . . . people are pulling over to give me a boost. And when my gut clenches and I turn to flee, jump back in, roll up the windows and lock the doors, I'm making myself stand strong and face those booster cables head on. One coffee Sunday coming up!

Mood: well
Drinking: coffee, water
Listening To: 1979, smashing pumpkins
Hair: ponied

Let Me Out

Seriously enjoying Nathan Wiley's CD. Seriously.

So today was a weird kinda day. Foggy. Damp. Which seemed to make me foggy and . . . well, you know. Kidding. Maybe.

But seriously, it was a good day. Productive. I'm glad to be able to stay home tomorrow and work because Thursday and Friday are going to be freaking incredibly nuts. Working on some stories. The schedule goes off the hook come Thursday morn. Actually tomorrow evening it begins. Fun stuff though. Exciting stuff. Good stuff. It'll certainly be interesting.

I drank way too much Navan tonight. I think I have a vanilla infused headache coming on. Time for some water. One minute I was just warming up. Having something sweet after dinner. The next I'm a little whacked. I think that's more potent stuff than the usual glass of red.

Anyway, I'm out of the car and flagging down the peeps with the jumper cables. Lets see where this takes me.

Mood: dizzy
Drinking: water
Listening To: 1979. smashing pumpkins
Hair: headbanded again

Sick Side

Come over to the sick side . . .

Yes, I am enjoying Nathan Wiley.

Today's mighty speaker seemed custom delivered just for me. Well, partly anyway. All weekend I appeared to be doing some soul searching, some strange dreams, some deep thinking, some pondering in the moonlight. I came to a conclusion, but hadn't made any forward motion on my deduction. Then mighty monday began and an evangelical message was delivered about parked cars, booster cables, the tall grass on the side of the highway. Hmm . . .

Gotcha. I'm good.

Things are about to get a whole lot more risque about this place.

Mood: butterflies and pop rocks
Drinking: hot chocolate spiked with a shot of brandy
Listening To: north american dream, nathan wiley
Hair: pulled back in black

Only 24 Hours

So here's my light bulb ah-ha moment of the day . . . simply put, there are not enough hours in the day to do all that I want to do. Ok, yeah, we knew that, right? Well, not really. I mean I've always kinda thought it was my lack of discipline, my lack of planning, my lack of organizational skills that kept me from "doing it all." Not so, I see now. Quite literally, there are not enough hours in the day.

I made a list. Things I enjoy doing that make me happy like writing here on the Limbo blog, reading for pleasure, writing fiction, etc. Things that I need to prod myself to do but once I get into it I enjoy doing plus they are beneficial to my health and sanity, ie. walking, exercise, cooking good meals, personal development exercises/readings/cds etc. Things I have to do whether I want to or not like work, sleeping, personal hygiene, housework, etc.

The result -- if I shopped (I'm talking groceries and household supplies not shopping for fun), did volunteer work, watched tv and socialized only on weekends, I'd still need 26 hours in a day in order to consistently do it all and still get 8 hours sleep a night. Hmm. There you have it. There truly isn't enough time in a day to do it all. Unless . . . I only sleep 6 hours per night and I save all my shopping, volunteer work, television watching and socializing for weekends only. Or even better I only sleep 4 or 5 hours so I have an hour or two for spontaneity. I'm being sarcastic. Of course.

And this after I already gave up all my groups and freelance work. Sheesh!

Mood: reality checked
Drinking: nothing
Listening To: the dryer tumble
Hair: damp

Must Be Sunday

Sitting in bed, sipping coffee, about 9:15 on a sunshiny morning, Corrie on the set, Blanche actually willing to part with her life's savings, Jason actually undertaking some responsibility, audrey embracing being second best, ches trying to take that monstrous dog on the bus to liverpool, and it hits me. it starts in my stomach and works slowly up through my chest causing my heart to flutter and sputter as it passes into my throat. is it excitement? panic? is this what joy feels like? or maybe loneliness? i don't want to miss the rest of the shows and they're on for another 45 minutes yet, but it's all i can do to stay put. there's lots of time, i tell myself. no need to rush, i say. ah, but it's sunday, and on sunday i can't be reasoned with. when the flutter spreads from my throat and lands in my brain it's all over, i can no longer hear the lines, follow the plot. my brain is preoccupied with lists. first i'll check email, then i'll load my mp3 player with new music for the week. i must do dishes and laundry. i want to sweep, mop and vacuum. i should clean the bathtub. i think i'll clean the windows. i want to go for a walk. i need to get organized for the week work-wise, make a plan in the dayplanner. i want to edit some stories and put them up online. i should write a column. i should work on the play. i need to call mom about that question i had. oh, i've got to hang that picture. there's supper to think about, and breakfast and lunch before that. i need to make interview questions. i'm going to lose both monday and tuesday this week, need to compensate for that. if i finished writing those two things and edited some of the quick stuff, maybe i'd be ahead of the game. i want to blog. i want to read blogs. i want to tidy my bedroom. i should do some exercises. should i do an italian lesson today? maybe i should make those motivational tapes. the sun is so nice, i should go outside. do bears wander the cove in daytime? should i fill the mp3 player before or after a walk. should i put on lighter sheets or is this weather going to hold? oh, i need to respond to those people's questions. and i need to remember to do that thing. i'll have to make a list. yes, i'll make a list first. no, first i'll blog, i'm bursting to type. then i'll make a list. then i'll start the laundry. then the dishes. mustn't leave the walk too late. ok, so i'll walk first. right after i blog and make the list and load the mp3 player. is someone smoking? is something burning? oh dear, is corrie over? what happened? and i'm off. another manic sunday.

Mood: crazed
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: north american dream, nathan wiley
Hair: pulled back

To Each Her Own Zexy

I have an unnatural obsession with eating . . . and no, I probably don't mean this in the way that you think, though yes, I probably also have it in the way you think.

Do you remember that scene from Grease 2 where Michelle Pfeiffer gets a burger at the diner? She opens the bun and says, "No ketchup!" I love that scene. The way she devours that burger while she's talking . . . When this movie came out I was 13 years old. I had wanted to be a Pink Lady since I was nine and Mom actually let me go to the drive-in with her and Lorraine and Stacy. Mom never let me go anywhere on my own, and she certainly never took me anywhere. This was a first and a last. It was very special. I became obsessed with all things Grease.

I never wanted to be Sandy, because she's not cool until the very end and I wanted to be cool all the time! I wanted to look like Sandy with the big blue eyes and blonde hair, but I wanted to be cool like Rizzo. For me, Stephanie in Grease 2 was the ultimate! A gorgeous blue-eyed blonde Pink Lady who oozed coolness. *Sigh* I so wanted to be her, find my own cool rider and blast off into the sunset.

But back to the unnatural food obsession. I became fixated on many of Michelle Pfeiffer's actions in Grease 2, how she held her head, how she walked, how she opened her eyes, and so on, but mainly I became fixated with her mouth. How she smoked, how she chewed gum, how she smiled, how she chewed her food, how she sucked on her straw, how damn sexy she looked when she talked with her mouth full. Yeah, I'm a little (a lot maybe) nuts, but I just thought that was the sexiest coolest thing ever and from then on I would always wonder what I looked like when I was smoking or chewing, how I looked as I took a bite of a burger. Could I ever hope to look as great as she did?

This started what has turned into a lifelong obsession with . . . I'm not even sure what. The actresses I idolize all have very sensual mouths. Like Angelina Jolie and Scarlett Johansen. I notice the way actresses eat on tv and in movies. I remember those scenes in particular. I am oddly drawn to them. Like Mary Louise Parker in Weeds. She's always got an iced coffee in her hand that she's sipping from. I love that! I love the way her cheeks puff out just before she swallows. Holly Hunter in Saving Grace catching grapes in her mouth or chowing down on Texas omelets is fabulous, but she also smokes like a god damn chimney and I swear I tune in just to watch her inhale. It's almost enough to make me light up again, oh, just one for old time's sake . . .

I'm not turned on by all eating on screen, it's not a cigarette/food thing, it's totally to do with the actress involved. Part of the reason why I can't stand Sandra Bullock is because I find her chewing, drinking, smoking, etc. to be a bit disgusting. It doesn't give me a warm fuzzy feeling like Mary Louise. It doesn't make me sit up straighter and pay full attention so I might emulate later like Michelle Pfeiffer. It's kinda difficult to explain, this strangeness. I seem oddly indifferent to male actors eating, smoking. I could care less. It's only the girls I'm interested in, but it's not a sexual thing. I don't want to jump into the sack with any of them. I just want to be them. It's a strange adoration, idolization, emulation. All these years later and I still want to be Stephanie.

Mood: odd
Drinking: chai
Listening To: someone's tv
Hair: loosely knotted, wispys in my eyes

manic

i'm a little manic lately. well, maybe i'm not, but i feel kinda manic, wound up, head aching from thoughts flying so fast. two weeks ago i started using my day planner again. i buy these planners, every year, and i use them to keep notes, phone numbers, addresses, important website links, that kind of stuff mostly. occasionally i have a day here and there where i make a to do list, but i never seem to get to the part where i actually cross stuff off the list. i've had better success with electronic day planners, but haven't found one that stuck. and having seen the devastation of losing all the electronic stuff anyway, i'm not sold on keeping stuff in the air anymore anyway. but two weeks ago i made a to do list on a day and i crossed off about 90% by day's end and made a new list for the next day and i've been doing that every day ever since. it makes me feel manic. to cross things off. to get things done. to be blazing through, all alert like. maybe this is just normal business as usual stuff for the rest of the world. but it feels weird for me to know what happens tomorrow, what happens next, and to have a plan.

Mood: pondering
Drinking: i had some diet pepsi earlier
Listening To: the fridge humming
Hair: i'm dying to chop with abandon

Quickly

just dumping in the java before i have to leave for the usual mighty monday stuff. trying to wake the eff up. i need to stay away from blackville for a couple of weeks. barnbonia really does a number on my head. missed the book launch cuz of torrential rain and feeling poorly. felt bad about that. will still buy the book tho. our reading went off without a hitch, went well, sparse audience, no sales, some tears, but it's over and nobody died, so there you go. dinner theatre was good, tho i still crave just the theatre without the dinner. maybe someday. the dance . . . forget about it! the very good rock band turned into a less than great country band. hellish. so should've went with my first instinct and just stayed home to watch jon bon on snl. what is wrong with me and not listening to my gut?! the only thing that could've made that dance any worse would've been if the jay's had gone ahead and set me up on a blind date. sis here. gotta run.

Mood: good
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: rumblings
Hair: wet n stringy

Autumn Setting In

Setting in my bones, that is. I'm thinking this will be the last big flare of the season, surely temperatures and humidity won't rise much from now on. I am the rare bird who looks forward to below zero temperatures. We hit below freezing and I'm golden. It's getting there that can be excruciating. Today it's limbs, all of them, arms, legs, setting in wrists mostly, some shoulders, ankles and knees. I have a bad burn on one hand that's tender and I seem to keep striking on things, off tables, into doors. In many ways I think having a high threshold for pain is a curse, because I think I get more than my fair share, cuz I can take it. Or I often hurt myself before I realize I have, pay the painful price later in cuts, bruises, burns.

I've just remembered there is a writer's meeting tonight. I don't want to go. But I never do. I always feel like I don't have time. But especially this week. With the long weekend I feel like this week has been too short, there's not enough time to get all I want done. But I should make myself go. Even if I have no new writing to share. I need to connect with other writers and recharge creativity. And the meeting only comes round once a month. It's never going to fall on a night when I feel like I have time. And I haven't been since spring.

Mood: alright
Drinking: coffee, water
Listening To: grrrr
Hair: uncertain about itself

The Calming Light

"Good for the body is the work of the body, good for the soul is the work of the soul, and good for either is the work of the other." --Henry David Thoreau

Thoreau remains one of my faves.

I'm interested in meditation, visualization, yoga. I found a great website where they have daily yoga classes for beginners through to advanced. A new class every morning, about an hour long. I haven't started doing them yet. But I have the site bookmarked in my blog favourites so I am reminded of it everyday I go read other people's blogs. It's an hour long commitment, and I'm already committing about an hour and a half to walking, and another hour to personal development, so even though I know the benefit is there, it's gonna take a little convincing to get me in there I think. I need to warm up to the idea. I've only found this site a few days ago, late last week. Baby steps.

It's good to be home after Thanksgiving weekend. In retrospect I shouldn't have gone. I am absolutely dreading having to go up home again this weekend now. I am starting to think maybe I'll just go for the reading and come right back home again. I might be able to work that. Yes, I already purchased theatre and dance tickets, but . . . I dunno. What can I say? I like being home. I like sleeping in my own bed. I like being in charge of my own destiny and not having to rely on anyone else. I like being able to go wherever I want when I want. And I can't do that in the woods. There are wild animals and everything is too far away.

And there's a book launch Friday evening that I've been looking so forward to. I was devastated to find out it's happening this Friday night and I mightn't be able to go. I don't know how I'm supposed to go that and get to Blackville for the reading on Saturday. That whole thing has done nothing but piss me off since I agreed to do it. What does that say? Never freaking again. That's what.

In brighter news I am down 8 pounds since this time last week. Yeah, that's a lot, and I know it's almost entirely water weight, and the shock of a KFC-less existence. Still, it was nice to see it go so quickly, because when I stepped on the scales last week I was mortified to see the ravages of summer on my numbers. It was much, much, worse than anything I had imagined. So, to shed so quickly kinda means it wasn't real. You know, it's not holding on for dear life or anything. Whoosh! Bygones! Begin again. Of course, we'll have to wait and see what this week brings, before we start celebrating.

Mood: not bad
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: just me
Hair: perhaps about to be butchered

Life's A Poker Game

"Life consists not in holding good cards, but in playing those you hold well." - Josh Billings.

Losers go into the game with money they can't afford to lose. They always need to win, to get even, to win back what they've already lost. The need to win causes them to lose. They play hands they shouldn't play. They don't fold when they should fold, because they can't afford to fold. They can't afford to play in the first place. Losers are always chasing their losses rather than playing the hand they're dealt.

It's the same in life. Winners play the hand life deals them and they succeed. Losers chase their losses, focus on their problems and obstacles, and continue to add to their losses. Winners make lemonade of the lemons life deals them, then they open a lemonade stand, sell that lemonade, invest their earnings and make their fortunes. Losers sit and look at those lemons and cry, "why me, lord?" hands raised to the heavens, fall into a deep depression and give up. Or they get angry. "Oh yeah, you gonna give ME lemons! I'll show you!" And then they stomp on all those lemons and tear to them shreds, so they're left with nothing. Then they sit around and moan about how they have nothing, no luck, no opportunities. Meanwhile, buddy with the lemonade stand was dealt the very same hand and went on to become the richest most successful person in the world.

You have to live the life you've been given. You have to focus on the positive, focus on your hopes and dreams, make goals, have ambition, always be learning and growing and moving forward, take action, use your talents and gifts. If you focus on the negative, you get stuck in a pattern of negativity. If you're always complaining you'll just get more of what you complain about, the same with worry, the same with regret. Live in the present. Be grateful. Dare to move forward.

I mean look at Oprah. That woman started out with a big ole pile of lemons, being born black, female, poor, add in the sexual abuse and you think it's a wonder she ever amounted to anything, all the odds were certainly stacked against her. I'm sure there a lot of girls who were dealt the very same lemons as Oprah who ended up dead or living miserable lives. And no, she didn't get lucky. She didn't win some kind of lottery jackpot. She's where she is today because she worked her ass off to get there. She played the hand she was dealt to the best of her ability and she won. She didn't chase her losses.

And then you've got someone like Brittany Spears. That girl has so much to be grateful for in her life! Two kids of her own, a family. She was a success since she was a kid. She's already made a fortune and could do anything she wanted to do right now. ANYTHING! She has the resources to pursue any of her dreams. And she squanders it all away. She doesn't care. "Life gave me lemonade but I want lemons, dammit!" She's got every opportunity, life has dealt her a pretty great hand to begin with, I mean in comparison to Oprah, but Brittany's focused on the negative, most likely to do with love and relationships, she's chasing her losses, and therefore she is a loser. She doesn't value her hand, because a person who values their children obviously wouldn't lose custody because of drugs and alcohol and concerns for the children's safety.

Okay, moving on, in poker you need to only play with money you can afford to lose, but you also have to have a lot of patience. If you don't have the cards you need to fold and wait to catch the cards that you know you can win with. Same thing in life. We want it and we want it now, dammit! I'm guilty of this. I see something I want to buy, I don't really have the money, instead of saving the money I buy it on my credit card, which means I end up paying way more for it because of interest and so on. Meanwhile, if I just waited til I could save up the cash to buy the thing, and worked on paying off my credit card once and for all. I'd have way more money at my disposal all the time. We need to have more patience. And this goes for all things, not just money. We want a better job, so we take whatever we can get in order to get out of the job we're in right now as soon as possible. We want to find that special someone, so we hook up with the first person we meet in the bar and hope they are the one. We want to build a home, have a family, get a pet, so we behave in these rash illogical manners to get these things we want. We're always going off half-cocked and wondering what the hell happened when we get what we wanted and it turns out to be a disaster. We need to be ready to roll with opportunities when they present themselves but we need to know when to sit still and just wait.

Yes, you win a few, you lose a few, but the important thing is the long haul, you need to win more over time than what you lose in order to make gains. If you have a weekly poker game that you always go to and every week you lose $50 but one week you win $300, that's no reason to celebrate if you've been playing faithfully for years on end. You're still a loser! One pot doesn't make you the big winner. Same thing in life. You won't always win, there will be losses, pain, suffering, major obstacles that knock you onto your butt, but the important thing to move forward and make progress is to win more than you lose. Accept your losses and move on to the next win.

“You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run. You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table. There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.” -- Kenny Rogers

Mood: having a poker kinda day
Drinking: coffee, black, the cheap stuff
Listening To: just me typing
Hair: pulled back off my face, cuz i still haven't dealt with critical mass

Lock It Up

"Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will find a way around the laws." - Plato (427-347 BC)

I'm not talking about stopping at the stop sign or breaking into the neighbour's house, I'm talking about personal laws. Whether we know it or not, we all have personal laws that we either follow or we break. If we're not consciously aware of what they are, chances are we break them. No the cake police won't come lock me up if I take a second piece, but I have a personal law that says I eat healthy, so by eating cake I condemn myself to Have-Not Prison. Perhaps you've been there also? It's where you go when you dream of a better life and only get more of the same and worse. Yeah, we've all been there.

What I'm coming round to from yesterday and again today is that I need to be less lenient on myself. I need to hold myself accountable, set personal laws and not break them, if I ever hope to be that person I want to be.

“Life’s biggest changes happen in a second.”

You don't stop for the stop sign, smash into another car and kill three people, one of them a child. In one second your life changed forever and you became a killer. Nothing will ever be the same again, and three people's lives have ended abruptly because you broke the law. And you know, that's the way it is with everything--diet, exercise, procrastination. The second you decide it's ok just this one time to skip the workout or put off that task until later or eat the fried chicken, you've broken your personal law and become nothing better than a criminal. It might seem extreme, but what I'm really talking about is integrity. I mean if you can't keep your word to yourself, if you can't trust yourself, then how can you possibly expect anyone else to take your word and trust you? And if my personal rule says, "I eat healthy." How is it ever right to eat a piece of cake? I mean it's the same as smoking. My personal rule is that I am a non-smoker, although I smoked for many many years. And I loved smoking! I mean nobody loved smoking more than me. So making a rule that I am a non-smoker was not easy for me. I gave up immense pleasure because I knew cigarettes were bad for me and I was working on another personal rule--I am a healthy person. So I gave up cigarettes five plus years ago and there isn't a week that goes by that I am not aware of cigarettes and that they don't call to me. Sometimes it's really hard not to give in and have just one puff. But I am a non-smoker and I am a healthy person, so there can be no puffs, ever, it's against the laws of Kellie. So, why should cake or fried chicken be any different? How can I justify bending the rules for them? I mean there is absolutely nothing nutritional about a piece of cake. Nada! It's practically poison.

I watched Ross Matthews talky blog on Tuesday. I love his blog! Ross is otherwise known as Ross the Intern from the Tonight Show. He used to be a big boy but last year he went on Celebrity Fit Club and got healthy and trim. In Tuesday's talky blog he gets more emotional, upset and angry than I've ever seen him in the many months of watching everyday. Why is he so angry? It's been a year since Celebrity Fit Club and the day he said goodbye to one of his best friends, Pizza. He dreams of pizza. He craves pizza. He explains which ones are his favourites. And yes, he understands that having one piece of pizza won't make him fat again. And he's not saying that he won't ever have a slice, maybe one day he will, but right now, he's sticking to his personal rule and he's worked too hard and he's having too much success to bend the rules and have pizza. Instead he opts to make a healthier pizza at home using whole grain tortillas, a touch of low-fat cheese, some favourite veggies, etc. He asks his readers to post their healthy pizza recipes and ideas in order to help him out. This talky blog post of his spoke to me on a level unlike anything else. Something clicked. The boy was tearing up talking about pizza! He longs for it the way I long for a long slow drag off a cigarette on a cool fall day. But I don't give in and take the drag. And Ross doesn't give in and eat the pizza.

In the past year or so I've been slowly coming round to the idea that undoing the damage I've done to my body my whole life in order to finally emerge the healthy person I want to be is damn hard work. And I'm not just talking physical health here, I'm talking the whole spectrum, emotional and mental, etc. I want to make advances in my career. I have goals and dreams I want to accomplish. I want to kick procrastination to the curb once and for all. But it all takes time. It takes effort. It takes me making conscious healthy decisions 100% of the time.

I say I've been slowly coming around to the idea that it's hard because honestly I've still been invested in finding shortcuts. I've still been looking for ways to have my cake and eat it too . . . literally! I've wanted to find a way to get rid of this excess weight without exercise. I've wanted to be able to get healthy and still have french fries with gravy or drumstick squares. I've been learning tons of stuff about proper nutrition and counting calories and burning calories and so on, but I've been holding out, looking for some quick fix. I need to make the rules, write them down so there can be no doubt and then read them everyday to remind myself. Then I need to stop being a person without integrity and start following my own damn rules. I mean if I'm not going to obey my own laws, what's keeping me from one day getting behind the wheel of a car and killing three people? Or going next door and robbing the girl? Why follow those laws? What's to stop me from giving in to any urge I have when I have it no matter if it's legal or not? Why should my life outside of my home be any different than the one I'm living in it? If I'm a liar and a cheat at home . . .

I need to sit down and really think about what I will accept of myself, and also what I will accept of others. It's a good exercise. I think it'll help.

Mood: very well, thank you
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: grumble, grumble, grumble this computer is a growler, the first couple of days i kept thinking i was hearing thunder in the distance
Hair: pulled back in a pony

Take a Sec

"While we are postponing, life speeds by." - Lucius Seneca (3BC - 65AD)

We all do this at one time or another, don't we? It takes more time to do it later than it does to do it now, yet we still let our lazy asses win out and put off what we can and should do today until tomorrow . . . and the next day . . . and the next day.

I struggle with this. I struggle with procrastination in all aspects of my life from work and relationships to exercise and housecleaning and everything else. I'm convinced if I can just get past my procrastination, become a person who ALWAYS consistently does it now, that everything in my life will shift and I'll become that person I want to be. Every time I say I'll do it later or I'll do it tomorrow, I drift further away from my goals in life.

I'm not unaware of the situation, and yes, I have made strides in recent years. I have done well for months on end in some aspects. But I always fall off the wagon, or I let some areas suffer while I focus on others.

The damage of putting something off was never more apparent than last week. After a slew of really great days of walking, writing, getting caught up on all the household chores, I felt great! My self-esteem was high, I wasn't stressed, I felt really good about everything. This, despite the fact my computer blew up and I fell behind in work. Things were on track, couldn't have been going better. Fast forward to yesterday, when I found myself looking around my kitchen and wondering what happened? Every dish, plate, glass, mug, utensil and pot is dirty. All of it! I stood there scratching my head and wondering how this could have happened, and so quickly! I mean wasn't it just yesterday that I decided I was too sleepy to do the dishes and I went to bed instead? Oh wait, no, I was out all day Monday and didn't get home until after 1am. When was that anyway?

One day last week I decided not to do the dishes for whatever reason. There weren't that many, just me, just one day . . . and within a couple of days my kitchen went to hell. For the first time ever, yesterday the connection between that one tiny piece of procrastination and the fall out was crystal clear to me. I could see it in a straight line. I went from here to there. And I did it very quickly.

That's just one example. There are tons of others. Every aspect of my life that ends up in a big mess can be traced back to one minor incident where I put something off. Like last week, even though, I was up early enjoying the sunshine, even though I was aware rain and thundershowers were in the forecast, I decided to take my walk in the evening instead of going in the morning. And when evening came there was lightning, and I won't walk in lightning. I can do rain, but lightning is a whole other matter. And by the time the skies cleared it was dark and I don't like walking after dark. So, I didn't go for a walk that day. And I didn't go the next. Or the next. And by the end of the weekend my house was full of empty KFC containers. A straight line from me saying "I'll do that tonight" to me chowing down on greasy chicken and feeling like a big old fat failure while I was doing it.

We lie to ourselves. Or I do anyway. I told myself these little things didn't matter, every passing moment is another chance to turn it all around. But I wasn't seeing the connection between my actions and the results, or I was lying to myself about the connection. And this week it's all really clear. I mean it might seem kind of idiotic that I hadn't understood if I didn't do the dishes, they wouldn't get done. But it's more than that, I can remember the precise decision that knocked me off track. I thought I could say no to dishes that one day and still be okay. It's like being an alcoholic and thinking you can take that one drink. Or being a smoker and thinking you can have that one cigarette. I'm a procrastinator and I can't put off one single thing or I put off everything. I see that now, and it's different than I've ever seen it before.

So today, I'm taking a sec to do everything. Every single thing. I'm not saying no to anything that needs doing. I'm not putting anything off. I'm doing it all. And for today that's a big challenge, because there is so much, but tomorrow it'll get easier, and the next day easier still and so on and so forth. I just have to remember that I'm an addict. I'm addicted to putting things off, and I can't do it even one time or I'll end up with dishes piled to the ceiling and KFC containers lying all around.

"The greatest potential for controlling the ends is to exist at the point where action takes place." -Louis A Allen

Mood: enlightened
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: wind chimes, and my computer growling
Hair: long, loose, in my eyes