Beyond Limbo ... Life

When I first started this blog I was adrift, living without purpose or direction. I was quite literally living in limbo. A lot has changed since then. I moved to Sackville. I moved back to Miramichi. We launched a print edition of Bread 'n Molasses. My nieces were diagnosed with diabetes. My baby brother moved out of my parents house, got a permanent job and engaged to the girl I would have handpicked for him if I had been able to handpick. I started dating again. I fell in love. I got my heart broke. I settled all my unresolved Toronto issues finally after almost 20 years. I became actively involved in the New Brunswick community of writers. I started drinking wine ...

My Wrist

The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Tuesday, May 8, 2007, and sent via FutureMe.org

Dear FutureKellie,

Six months ago you had a nagging pain in your left wrist. You weren't sure how long you had been experiencing pain or whether the pain was the result of some injury or over-exertion (i.e. carrying a lot of shopping bags for great distances, carrying heavy boxes during the move, etc.)

So what about today? Do you still have this pain? If so, it's been a solid six months! For christsake, isn't it time you go it checked out?!

Love you lots,
PastKellie

I'm happy to report the wrist seems to have healed. Yay!

Mood: manic
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: computer thrumming
Hair: greasy

If ...

If I were doing Nanowrimo ... which I am TOTALLY not :) but IF I were ... I would be at 21,037 words. If, you know. That's kind of exciting. I'm living this story right now, writing in my sleep even. This is good. Good things will happen this way. Every day I call my mom and ask her if she remembers the time ... and then she'll say yes and we'll talk about it and then I remind her again that even though some situations resemble my real life, the mother character in my story is in no way shape or form based on her ... she says she knows. Soon, I'll have to start calling Dad every day to tell him the same thing. Though the last time I dissed a father character in one of my stories and Dad thought it was based on him, he was flattered rather than hurt. So, one never knows how it'll go.

One thing is for sure, I've definitely started letting go of what really happened and jumped off into the pool of what never happened but wouldn't it make a good story if it did.

Mood: creative, wired
Drinking: water
Listening To: typing
Hair: spiked

Death of a Disco Dancer

I'm all over the place today. Stressed (about money, what else is there?) Restless (moon stuff, dreams, writing, non-drowsy meds). Excited (niece is out of hospital! wrote 10,500 words this weekend on creative personal project!) Listening to old punk and trying to settle in to accomplish something this evening.

Here's a meme. Courtesy of Wandering Coyote. Play along if you like.

1. Do you believe in seeing a rainbow after the rain? I live at the end of the rainbow. FYI, there's no pot of gold here.

2. If you have a dream come true, what would it be? My dreams come true all the time.

3. Do you believe in eternity love? I do AND I don't. I don't believe that there's only one right person. I think we have many forever loves.

4. What feeling do you love most? joy

5. What feeling do you hate the most? fear

6. Do you cherish every single friendship of yours? Absolutely

7. Do you believe in God? Yes ... but not the organized religion kind.

8. Who cares for you most? If you mean who cares for me more than anyone else, then that would be me. If you mean out of all the people who care for me, who cares most, then that's probably my parents.

9. What do you think is the most important thing in your life? my family

10. What emotion do you like to show? enthusiasm

11. If you have something troubling you, what do you do? I cry, write the crap out of it, weigh pros and cons, make a plan, act on the plan

12. Who do you admire most? I admire a lot of people for different reasons, it's apples and oranges to pick a most admired. I tend to admire people who are very calm, optimistic, spiritual and logical.

13. Who did you last chat with in a chat room? I don't do chat rooms. On MSN chat it was probably Joe last week

14. What kind of person do you think the one we stole this meme from is? WC? Hmm, I've really no idea, but from what I've read we have a few things in common, and I know she's a kick ass cook!

15. What color did you use to dye your hair? Right now it's very dark brown, before that it was a light blonde. I've been strawberry blonde, orange red, dark red auburn, light brown ... but nothing too radical

16. Why are you doing this meme? something to do, to get my fingers started on the keyboard

17. What do you do when you’re moody? drink wine, eat junk, watch a lot of tv

18. At which age do you wish to or did you, get married? very glad i did not marry when i was younger, i shudder to think of the trail of divorce i'd have behind me. i used to be anti-marriage, but i'm mellowing on the subject. i think i'll say yes to the next guy who asks ... i broke up with the last three, lol

19. If today is the last day of your life, what will you do? hopefully i know it's the last day and i make plans because if today is the last i wasted it on editing, banking and this meme. if i knew ahead of time i'd spend the day with my family and dog

20. Who is the person you trust the most? me. just me.

21. Last time you smiled? today, when stacy called

22. What are you listening to right now? AccuRadio Vintage Violence channel, "Over the Edge" The Wipers

23. Who was the last person you saw in your dream? hmm, i think it was me ...

24. Are you talking to someone while doing this? nope

25. Do you walk with your eyes open or closed? i do real good not to fall flat on my face with my eyes wide open thank you very much ... closed? wtf? who does that?

26. Is there a quote you live by? For writing purposes it's "you must shine in every sentence" which is not exactly a quote but more of a paraphrase of something Mordecai Richler said. In life it's "Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around" from the movie Vanilla Sky.

27. Do you want someone you cannot have? only if movie stars count

28. Who always makes you laugh? cute with chris, J-Money, Liam Sullivan

29. What was the worst idea you’ve had this week? the week has only begun, but i'd say it was going to sobey's today

30. Do you speak another language other than English? no, though i'd love to be able to speak french and italian

Mood: weird
Drinking: nothing, need another cup of tea
Listening To: melody, serge gainsbourg (oh hell yeah! i am grooving on this, reminds me of frye festival)
Hair: clean but unkempt, i washed it and didn't even comb it afterward, for serious

Katt Lives!

A couple of weeks ago I started meeting with a couple of writing friends to workshop. We've been meeting once a week, and so far we've met twice with a third meeting set for this week. It's doing wonders for me and my writing. When the idea first came up I didn't know what I would focus on, I just knew that I needed to be working on something and left to my own devices without any pressure to produce for a group, I may very well toil away the rest of my days writing only articles and editorials for BnM.

The first get together with the girls was upon me and I hadn't written shit. So I went into my files and pulled something to take to them. Because of all my hard drive failures in the past a lot of what I've written doesn't exist on this computer, unless it had an incarnation on this blog. Two chapters from Katt's Lives originated on here. So I started by taking them to the group. Two chapters were all I had written, though I have an outline of sorts. If all goes as planned, it looks like a 12 chapter book. Two meetings down and I'm out of old material. Time to push forward. So last week I started writing. I started with the first chapter, the beginning, and by the time the meeting rolled around I had three pages to bring to the table. About 1500 words. Not much, but brand spanking new baby! This is a step for me.

Three pages was enough to awaken the story in my brain. I'm eating and sleeping with Katt now. I'm writing consciously, unconsciously, 24/7. Yesterday I took to the keyboard again. Chapter one grew to 4500 words and I didn't want to stop then but it was so late I knew I needed sleep and I promised myself I'd get back to it today. I dreamed with Katt all night. I don't have all the answers for her. Things can go a variety of ways. I usually write from personal experience. Personal experience is the jumping off point, but then creativity takes over and anything can happen. It's up to me to figure it out and sometimes it's more difficult to leave my experience behind and unearth Katt's experience. But I'm loving the process! I haven't been this fired up since I can't remember when. It's been years.

November is National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo) and I didn't sign up or anything, but maybe, just maybe, I'm doing it anyway.

Mood: excited
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: running on empty, jackson browne
Hair: sassy

Bloody Well Right

The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Sunday, October 28, 2007, and sent via FutureMe.org

Dear FutureKel,
A year ago you listened to motivational speaker Les Brown speak about how sometimes when we experience a set-back or trauma we pull off to the side of the road and park. We roll up the windows and settle back into our leather seats completely oblivious that there are people out on the highway who will stop and help us, give us a boost, give us a lift, if only we put on the four-way flashers and let them know we are there.

This impacted you.

You understood that with regard to love and relationships you had pulled off the road a long time ago. You decided to do something about it. One year ago today you were supposed to have a coffee date with a man from Bathurst.

So what happened FutureKel? Did you stay open to the idea of love? Or did you close yourself off and ignore opportunities? Are you seeing anyone now? When was the last time you went out on a date? Have you made any new friends?

I hope you are doing wonderfully well and enjoying life to its fullest. I hope you have love and happiness and someone to share in your joy. But if you don't, take some time today to remember the lesson of Les Brown and turn on those 4-ways again.

Peace and joy always!
PastKel

What a shocker to get this email from myself this morning! Has it only been a year? That seems like ages ago. Time has slowed to a crawl.

Okay, so what happened? Bathurst guy ended after an annoying abundance of phone calls and two dates. Then there was Sussex guy, two months of emails, one date, no chemistry. This was followed by Salisbury guy, four months, fell in love, got heart broke. Then rebound Blackville guy, couple of rendezvous. And finally summer fling Woodstock guy, who was lovely in text message, but I nearly killed in person. A year, five guys, one broken heart, I can live with that. I think I'm out of the car.

Mood: contemplative
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: i wanna be sedated, the ramones
Hair: imagine if i stuck a fork into an electrical outlet ...

Don't Want to be Haunted by the Ghost

In the dream I'm in an airport waiting to depart. Not sure where I'm going but I have a sneaky suspicion it has something to do with the loonie-sized bony bump on my thigh. It is like the one I have at the base of my middle finger on my left hand, only much larger and not at a joint. In the dream, my thighs are much smaller like in the days of boys and bars. All I have is a small carry-on and a jean jacket. I'm wearing a pale blue checkered shirt, the one I used to have with the silver threading, and those short black lace-up boots with the 1-inch heel that I used to wear all the time. My hair is longish and light brown. I'm an odd caricature of myself from different times in my life.

I'm flipping through a magazine, not really reading, when I notice the guy. He's middle-aged, pot-bellied and balding. His sweat stained tank top doesn't quite reach the elastic waistband of the jogging pants hanging low off his hips. There are curly black hairs around his belly button. He looks a little crazy, and is definitely agitated as he tries to stuff his suitcase into a locker. It won't fit. He starts swearing, jamming the suitcase harder. When he notices security officers approaching him, he starts yelling stuff like, "It's not fair! You shouldn't say it's going to fit if it's not going to fit! I'm a person too you know! I have rights!" And then he throws the suitcase and bolts, running right toward me where I'm sitting calming watching the scene. The security officers run after him, bellowing for back-up into their shoulder radios.

I don't mean for it to happen, but when he runs through the aisle where I'm sitting he trips over my boots and falls face first onto the floor right at my feet. Security are on him before he knows what hit him. As they're handcuffing him and pulling him up, he looks at me and I lean in and shrug. "Sorry," I say. "I have big feet." He nods and in a completely normal pleasant voice says, "oh, don't worry about it, I understand. I've got big feet too." And he holds up a foot for me to see. His feet are indeed pretty large for a man of his height.

Just then my flight is called for boarding. I shoulder my carry-on and get in line, but as the line winds its way through a hall I see that I'm not getting on a plane after all, but rather some kind of a fancy train. The extra-wide cars are made entirely of glass and inside instead of aisles and seats there are large ballrooms with round tables set in cream coloured linens and full-dinner service. Waiters in black tuxedos and white gloves rush around with silver trays in the air getting things ready for dinner. Passengers are being asked to board at the very back of the train. A uniformed conductor takes my ticket and helps me step across the gap.

Inside I find myself in a huge lounge. It's like something out of the Roaring 20s, like a scene from Titanic (before it sunk). Chandeliers, thick tapestries, leather and mahogany furniture, a grand piano in one corner, jazz music ... all the men wear tuxedos and chew on cigars while the women glitter in shimmery gowns and take slow long drags off cigarettes held in long holders. I'm shocked and amazed and feeling a little like Dorothy ... We're not in Kansas anymore ...

I climb into a high bar chair and order a glass of wine from the dapper little bartender. As I turn to set my bag on the chair beside me I notice a woman sitting there. It's my friend Judy and she looks stunning in bright red flapper attire. I'm surprised to see her but she's been waiting for me. We've been invited to this dinner. It's important. I don't know anything about this, but I go along. I am feeling pretty hungry. My wine arrives and we're chatting and I'm starting to feel really good about this place, no matter if it's not where I expected I would be. And then a man brushes against me as he steps up to the bar.

He wears a brown wool suit and his hands turn a Bowler hat round and round by its brim. He's a sharp contrast to all the gloves, tails and top hats. He and I stick out in this crowd. Two of these things are not like the others. He turns sideways leaning on his elbow against the bar to survey the room while he waits for his rum drink. And then I see his face. He's a little older than I remember, wrinkles around his eyes, less hair. He recognizes me at the same time and his hands stop fidgeting with his hat. We don't say anything, just stare at each other. For the longest time. It's like we've ceased to be in the room with everyone else, we're on another plane. And then he smiles. "I should've called," he says. And I smile. "Yeah, that would've been nice." We stand there grinning at each other like maniacs. "But you're here now," I say. He laughs, shrugs, rolls his eyes. "Yeah," he says. His eyes are so blue. Were they always this blue? "I'm here now," he says. "You look good, Kel." And he opens his arms and I bury myself in his chest as I hold on for dear life and the tears start to flow.

When I wake up it's 7:30 on a Saturday and I'm singing Foo Fighters in my head:

I
I'm a one way motorway
I'm the one that drives away
then follows you back home
I
I'm a street light shining
I'm a wild light blinding bright
burning off alone

it's times like these you learn to live again
it's times like these you give and give again
it's times like these you learn to love again
it's times like these time and time again

Mood: dream-like
Drinking: hot chocolate
Listening To: Haunted, The Pogues with Sinead O'Connor
Hair: in a messy pixie

Happy Anniversary to Me!

The day was half over before I looked at the calendar and noticed the date ... October 22nd ... Happy Anniversary to Me!

On this day nearly 25 years ago I started dating my first serious boyfriend, my high school sweetheart. I remember the months leading up to that date like they were yesterday ... wondering who that guy was at Herbie's pool hall ... wondering who that guy was at the Exhibition ... finding out who that guy was with my friend at the school dance. I remember what happened before we got together, but I remember nothing of the first date itself. Was the first night the rainy one with him shivering, soaked, in my parents kitchen? I'm not even sure how it came to be. I remember the falling in love part. I remember the falling out of love part. I remember some of the stuff that happened in the middle, but the very first date totally eludes me. I guess it didn't really matter in the scheme of things. For sure it no longer matters in any way shape or form.

Over 20 years ago I started dating my most serious boyfriend, my college sweetheart. Yeah, same day. Kinda weird. A double Happy Anniversary to me! His memory presents itself a little differently. I remember the first date, the second, the third ... I remember the first six weeks, in freakish detail. I could give you a blow by blow accounting. The first break-up can still bring a tear to my eye when I'm feeling particularly nostalgic. It was like something from a movie. And the getting back together is etched in my memory. The second break-up is fuzzy. And I wish I could forget all the stuff after because it was so unpleasant.

It's a little weird. Most days I forget why I've gone into the kitchen by the time I get there. I struggle with people's names and birthdays. I'm not very good at remembering song lyrics or names of bands or lines from movies. I never know what day it is. I couldn't tell you what happened last week ... yet these useless memories stick by me forever.

It's been the coldest day yet in my apartment without heat. At one point I put on gloves. It snowed outside. I've been feeling a little down all day. Hard to say why exactly, perhaps a combination of all these things. I wish I had brandy.

Mood: scattered
Drinking: nothing
Listening To: doors slamming in the hall
Hair: sassy

These Dreams

In the dream I'm going to Toronto with Stacy. This, in and of itself, isn't anything unusual. But in the dream we're driving to Toronto in a 15 passenger van with Stacy's cousin, Claude, and a group we met in the basement of a church in White Rapids.

Yes, they are a church group!

Our Mighty friend, Terry, has somehow conscripted us into this church touring company. We will re-enact the scene when God created the world. We will sing hymns off-key in time with a tambourine. We will spread The Word and save souls.

I have no idea how this happened. Terry is apologetic, but he promised that we'd go, so go we must. Claude is appropriately agitated and bitchy. I mean who is Terry to force this lifestyle upon him. But Stacy and I are freakishly calm in the face of this excursion. She seems to even enjoy the singing and has started picking up the tambourine when nobody is looking. Plus she has been cast as the sun in the creation play, which is a major role. I'm not quite as excited as she appears to be, but I'm open and optimistic. "You've never done this before!" I think. "This will be an adventure!"

There is only one niggling snag with the trip. We will be gone during production of the next issue of BnM. Cindy is mortified. She'll have to do EVERYTHING herself, from cover to cover, write, edit, design ... We have confidence in her ability, but she's pissed. How is she going to make a magazine all by herself and look after her kids, clean her house, cook, etc. etc.?! "You can do it!" we yell as we press our noses against the windows of the van and wave good bye.

When we arrive the next snag becomes apparent. Because we're not at work, we won't be getting paid. Because we're only on loan to the church group, they are not going to pay our way. They kick us out of their cushy boarding house and leave us to fend for ourselves. Stacy and Claude quickly steal the 15-passenger van and drive off eastward bound. "See you suckers!" Claude yells out the open window.

I'm left standing in a rain soaked dark alley. I'm not really sure where I am. I think the west end. I have no money and no idea what to do. My cell phone rings and it's Terry. I tell him about Stacy and Claude's defection. I tell him about the church group kicking me out. "No problem!" he says. "All you need is a little bit of cash and they'll let you back in. Didn't you used to do temp work when you lived there before?"

Aha! I snap my fingers as the way becomes clear. I will hit up the temp agencies. I will get some odd jobs. I will make a little money and then the church group will let me stay with them. It'll all work out. I am saved.

Mood: delirious
Drinking: coffee, black, maxwell house, rich roast
Listening To: buddy upstairs moving furniture around
Hair: still short

Criminal Intent

For those readers who have been pining for stories of boys and bars, you're about to get lucky! I am writing again for a small workshop group. Need to produce new material every week. So I'm taking up some of the old causes. Casting the net to see what comes to surface. Hoping to find some tidbits in this lazy brain of mine. This is my first attempt ... maybe part of the Katt's Lives series, if you recall that from years ago.

*****

A guy I used to know made the paper. He's a thief. He's going back to prison. He's going to do some serious time. Years. Nobody will see him for a very long time. I only ever saw him twice and that was over 10 years ago.

We met at the after hours club. The club with no "official" law. I had never laid eyes on the man before nor heard his name mentioned. Maybe because he'd been away in jail. Maybe because he didn't grow up in my neighborhood and we went to different schools. No matter.

What mattered was that he pulled into the parking lot in his souped up 70s Chevy and I noticed. I didn't yet know he was a thief, but he was built like one, slight and wiry. You could imagine him slithering into hard to get places, slipping out, blending in, disappearing with ease. He was about my age, a little bit younger, with a great sense of humor. His tongue twisted gracefully around multiple syllables and I was impressed by his grasp of the English language. The boy was slick. I'll give him that.

He noticed me right away. I liked his direct approach. If he had a game, his game was that he had no game. He walked right up to me, told me I was beautiful and he wanted to be with me for the rest of his life ... or at least until morning. I liked his persistence. He stayed right by me, no matter how much I ignored him, no matter how much I protested, no matter what I said to drive him away. "Aww, you pretend you're all mean and hating on me, sweetheart," he'd say. "But I know you don't mean it. Deep down in there somewhere is a heart that's beating for mine." And he'd wink and laugh and drop a loonie in the jukebox.

Maybe because he had been in and out of jail, in and out of foster homes, on and off the streets, there was an urgency about him. There was time for setting up a mark in the pool hustle. There was time for casing the joint. But there was no time to fool around with games in matters of the heart. He took one look at me and decided he wanted me to be his woman, and then he never faltered from his mission to make it so.

He had a vivid imagination. Within an hour of meeting him he was designing my dream home, planning the wedding and naming our babies. I suppose it was a testament to his conning abilities and delightful personality that I stayed long into the night, sipping beer, playing pool and embellishing upon these plans. It was all in good fun, and I'd never met anyone like him before. But when the time came to go home, I went my way and he went his.

The next day he called me. He wanted to go on a proper date. Pick me up. Dinner. A movie. Flowers. Candy. Anything I wanted. As lavish or as simple as I desired. He just wanted to be with me, wanted me to be happy. "I don't know," I hedged. "Maybe someday, sometime ..." I was not playing hard to get. The fluttering in my stomach scared me ... plus, I had baggage, unresolved issues with a Mister On Again/ Off Again. Mr OA/OA didn't like me seeing other people, even when we were Off Again. He could be counted on to cause a scene, to make life difficult. Somebody could get hurt. Somebody could get beat up.

True to form OA/OA got wind of the new boy and showed up at my house worried for my safety. "I know this boy," he said. "Known him for a long time. He comes from a bad family. He is nothing but a low-down thief. He's been in and out of jail. You don't want to get mixed up with the likes of him."

I sighed. "But you've been in and out of jail and I've been mixed up with you for years," I said.

"Yeah, but I ain't no thief! They're the lowest of the low! And I don't want you around him."

The argument seemed to be "better the criminal I knew than the one I didn't" and strangely there did seem to be some logic to that.

Later at the club, when the old Chevy pulled in I decided Mr. OA/OA probably knew more about this guy than I did and I should trust his judgment on the matter. "I can't go out with you," I said to the boy.

He didn't want to hear that. He had plans. I told him I had found out about his troubling past. He told me he'd never do another dishonest thing in his life. With me by his side he could turn his life around and make something of himself. He seemed so sincere.

I pulled out my secret weapon and dropped OA/OA's name, which was usually enough to make even the biggest and strongest of the tough guys turn tail and run. Nobody with any sense wanted to get into a racket with OA/OA over me. But he didn't care. He knew OA/OA, had partied with him, had hung out with him, knew his capabilities, but it didn't matter.

"I've been through hell and more," he said. "I'm not afraid of him." And he meant it, his blue eyes filled with steely determination. He took my hands and looked into my eyes, "But seriously, I just want a chance to show you, just one date is all I'm asking for. And if afterward you decide I'm not for you, I'll go away and leave you alone forever."

He wasn't afraid of nothing or nobody . . . but I was. I was afraid of what OA/OA would do to him. I was afraid of what might happen to me. But most of all I was terrified of the way my heart pounded in my chest when he held my hands. "No," I said. "No. I think you should go now and leave me alone forever."

And he did.

His big eyes glossed over with a film of hurt. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his rejection and he drove off.

I never saw him again.

A few months later I heard he was caught stealing some petty stuff from a business in town. He got sent away for a few months over that. Then he dropped off my radar. "Better the devil I know" became my motto and it was back on again with OA/OA.

Sometimes I wonder what if I'd taken a chance on the wiry little con man. Would he have changed his ways? Or was he already too damaged when we met, is that the only life he could ever know? Sometimes I wonder, and then I see the court clippings and am thankful not to see my name in there as an accessory to the crime.

Mood: creative
Drinking: nothing
Listening To: people in the hall
Hair: still short, still dark

Grounded

The excess spending of this spring and summer on events and trips and things, coupled with a nagging financial imbalance left-over from last winter's inflated hydro billing, finally all caught up to me knocking the wind out of my happy-go-lucky sails. I cannot afford to do anything! I mean ANYTHING!

After a very lean late summer/early autumn where I saw my savings dwindle to zero as I cleaned up on every old can of whatever to be had in my cupboard. As a result I've recommitted myself to living within my means.

I need to accept that I can't do anything. I can't go anywhere. Period. I need to learn to say, "I'd love to go, but I can't afford it." It's hard. It's hard to pay the bills and have nothing left. And it's really hard to be in the position of not having any food in the house and not being able to buy any more. This happened to me recently and lasted for a good little while ... but no worries, I'm okay now.

I've had lean times before, like when I moved from Sackville to Newcastle, there were a couple of lean months, but this autumn was pretty bad. Huge eye-opening reminder! Like most people I know, I'm living about two months away from being homeless. And I need to stop! So I'm doing things a little differently. I've given up my gym membership. I've turned down some invitations. I've changed the way I buy groceries.

I've started buying cheaper non-perishables in bulk. My pantry is now full of canned and dried goods. I've started reading the sales and planning my list based on what's on sale. I have five boxes of Stovetop Stuffing ... which I never bought before in my life as a result of getting a good deal. I am amazed at how much generic brand crap that can be bought for a hundred bucks. And hey, Compliments brand ABCs are equally as disgusting as the pricier Heinz Alpha-ghetti. They are also surprisingly comforting as a hang-over cure-all.

Yesterday I made a casserole out of one boneless skinless chicken breast, a box of Kraft Dinner and Stovetop stuffing. I'm still podded and I have enough leftovers to last until tomorrow. This is economizing!

Another area I'm cutting costs is in hydro.

Last winter I pretty much kept the heat cranked all the time in all the rooms to keep the place comfortable. The winter before that I arrived late to the game (moved in February) but I was frugal with the heat because I had no idea how much electricity would cost because my last place was inclusive. So this winter I'm returning to the frugal ways of the first winter. There have been some pretty cold nights already, but I haven't turned on the heat. And I'm not going to. Certainly not until November and I'm actually hoping late November. I'm in a good position because my apartment is surrounded on all sides by other apartments, so I should be able to steal some of their warmth. This year I'm winterizing the windows with plastic, which I've never done before. And I'm closing off the spare room. I did that the first winter and it seemed to make a difference. As for me, I don't like the cold any more than the next person but I've got the heavy wool socks and sweaters and I'm ready to live a little cooler than last year.

I also got some blankets. If you'll remember from past winters, blankets have been an issue. But now I've got more than enough. I like sleeping in a cool room actually, as long as the bed is warm. The bedrooms are the coldest rooms in the place, drafty around the windows. Even with the heat cranked last year, it was cold. But I think the blankets are going to make all the difference in the world. So far they really have. Last night dipped to a frigid minus 10 and I was snug as a bug in a rug ... as long as I stayed in bed.

With the cost of electricity about to rise again this is one area where I really have to try hard to cut back. When everything is said and done I have about $400 a month left to pay hydro, buy groceries and do anything else that needs doing like taking a cab to work or buying birthday presents or going to the movies, or anything else that might come up. $400 a month for hydro and groceries isn't much, especially in winter, let alone any extras. So you can imagine how terrible it can be to get a hydro bill that is well over $300, as happened last winter. I'm not letting that happen this year.

As for saying no thanks I can't afford that ... I've said no to a yoga/writing workshop, the WFNB Fall Literary Fair, a travel writing workshop, a wine festival, a women's lunch, Matt Mays and Sam Roberts in concert together (I know!) and a slew of other things. It breaks my heart, but if I can't afford it, I just can't afford it. Sucks, but I guess it is what it is ... so until further notice I am grounded. Staying home in my increasingly cool apartment and devoting my time to inventing new and unique recipes involving Kraft Dinner.

Mood: dizzy
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: buddy upstairs do laundry
Hair: still short 'n sassy

Nanowrimo Time

There are some who say writing a novel takes awesome talent, strong language skills, academic training, and years of dedication. Not true. All it really takes is a deadline – a very, very tight deadline – and a whole lot of coffee.

Welcome to National Novel Writing Month: a nonprofit literary crusade that encourages aspiring novelists all over the world to write a 50,000-word novel in a month. At midnight on Nov. 1, more than 100,000 writers from over 80 countries – poised over laptops and pads of paper, fingers itching and minds racing with plots and characters – will begin a furious adventure in fiction. By 11:59 PM on Nov.
30, tens of thousands of them will be novelists.

2008 is the ten-year anniversary of NaNoWriMo, founded in 1999 by freelance writer Chris Baty. In its first year, NaNoWriMo had just 21 participants. In 2007, over 100,000 people took part in the free challenge, making it the largest writing contest in the world. And while the event stresses fun and creative exploration over publication, 24 NaNoWriMo novelists have had their NaNo-novels published, including
Sarah Gruen, whose New York Times #1 Best Seller, Water for Elephants began as a NaNoWriMo
novel.

Around 18% of NaNoWriMo participants "win" every year by writing 50,000 words and validating their novels on the organization's website before midnight on Nov 30. Winners receive no prizes, and no one at NaNoWriMo ever reads the manuscripts submitted.

So if not for fame or fortune, why do people do it?

"The 50,000-word challenge has a wonderful way of opening up your imagination and unleashing creative potential like nothing else," says NaNoWriMo Director (and nine-time NaNoWriMo winner) Chris Baty. "When you write for quantity instead of quality, you end up getting both. Also, it's a great excuse for not doing any dishes for a month."

There will be a "Meet and Greet" Event held 2:00 pm Sunday, October 26 at Chapters (Regent Mall), 1381 Regent Street, Fredericton, NB, E3C 1A2. Come and find out what the buzz is all about.

If you would like more information about National Novel Writing Month, or would like to talk to participants from NaNoWriMo chapters in your area, please visit our website at www.NaNoWriMo.org, or contact Fredericton Municipal Liaison Susan Douglas (506-451-2955) OR press@nanowrimo.org.

Every year I think I should do this, and every year I don't ... I should totally do this though! I just don't know how they do this and do anything else, like work, eat, exercise, etc. etc. etc. Maybe giving up tv shows for a month would be enough?

Mood: curious
Drinking: tea
Listening To: doors slamming
Hair: unknown

A Note from Past Kel

The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Tuesday, October 16, 2007, and sent via FutureMe.org

Dear FutureKel,

How you feeling today? What are you eating? How much exercise are you getting? How much do you weigh? What size clothes are you wearing?

A year ago you had a breakthrough. You realized how tough keeping your life on track, getting the weight off, would be, but you committed to making it so. You decided in favour of your health. So, how's it going? Are you healthy? Are you on the road to healthy? When was the last time you ate greasy crispy chicken from Sobey's or KFC?

Take care of yourself, girl. I love you.
PastKel

Well PastKel, let me tell you ... I struggle with these things. BUT I haven't had crispy chicken in quite some time!

So every now and then I get an email from myself in the past. Sometimes it's a good thing and sometimes (like this one) it's a harsh reminder to get back on track. I've been sending myself these messages for years. When something traumatic or particularly upsetting happens I will go to the FutureMe website and write myself a note describing how I feel on that particular day. Then I'll set it up to be emailed to myself 6 months or a year down the road. So I can see my progress. So I can see how time heals. So I will know the next time that whatever it is, it won't be the end of the world. In a way I take strength from these little notes I write myself.

In another way the notes are about loving myself. I actually take time to tell myself that I love me. I don't think people do this enough. I think we can't have love in outer world if we don't first have it in our inner world. So sometimes when I'm having a fantastic day and everything is fabulous I'll write a note to my fabulous self just to tell her how much I love her. A year later that note might plop into my inbox on a day when I'm not feeling so fabulous and totally brighten my day.

It works for me!

Mood: happy
Drinking: weak black coffee
Listening To: the dryer tumble
Hair: spiky!

Bless Me, For I Have Sinned ... Again

It's been forever since my last post here. Wow! I know I said I was going to slow down but this is pretty crazy. As you can imagine, a lot has happened. If you'd like to know everything, settle in and read on ...

I went out with people from work to celebrate a co-worker's 50th birthday. We met for supper and drinks at O'Donaghue's Pub in Chatham. I had the curried chicken which was really good. I only ordered it medium because I didn't know how hot the hot would be, but should I order it again I think I would try the hot because the medium was a true medium. Very yummy! We had a good time and then I went out to a retirement party with my boss and his wife at the Lion's Club in Newcastle. This was an interesting experience on many levels. They actually serve wine there, red in a bottle that isn't hideous, and very reasonably priced. They also left all the overhead lights on except directly over the dance area, which was unusual but seemed to work very well with an older crowd. It's hard to be off your face drunk in bright light. It was an older crowd, we were among the young ones. And I had a really good time.

I attended the MYPIE Wine & Cheese reception at the Rodd and met some new people. I was a little nervous because really that whole business thing is not my scene, but it went okay and I think I'll make an effort to attend more events. The speaking part went okay. I wasn't really prepared, just half-assed prepared, so there were things that came to mind as I was speaking that I wished I had thought of when I wrote the bit. And I wasn't sure the bit was actually cohesive, because we were right into BnM deadline that day and I was stressing about all that. But afterward several people told me they could relate and they appreciated my talk, so that was good. Someone even suggested I should publish it in BnM, which I hadn't considered, but might work.

MYPIE happened on a Wednesday and then we were totally on deadline. Thursday was spent with the Design Editor putting the finishing touches on BnM, then back to the office to get ready for a BnM Road trip to Fredericton. I had hoped we would get some printing done that Thursday night, but I lost my printing buddy to the Timberwolves Annual Golf Tournament, so that was okay. Friday morning was a flurry of last minute BnM communications before I caught the early afternoon bus to Fredericton. Thankfully the bus was running late out of Moncton because of road construction, otherwise I might have missed it.

It was the first time I travelled on a bus since people have been stabbed and killed while travelling on the bus. I seemed to be more alert to my fellow travelers, but otherwise nothing was different. I still sat about mid-way back at the emergency exit window. (Ever since I actually figured out how to use the emergency exit I'm a big fan of me being the one to open the window.) I was so tired and hungry on the bus ride that I decided I would actually get off in Boiestown and buy a Monster energy drink and something to eat ... that is until we stopped, the driver said we had 5 minutes and nearly everyone got off the bus in a mad rush to the store. Screw that! I promised I'd have a big coffee or something when I arrived.

I wasn't the only one running on little sleep and energy. Joe had been travelling out west and only just arrived home that morning having flown in the wee hours. None of this would have mattered in the slightest if not for the fact that we had tickets to TNB's midnight performance of Rocky Horror. So there was a little concern about how lively we might be come midnight.

I was supposed to meet a co-worker at the bus stop in Fredericton to deliver a package. The only problem was we'd never met before. She'd seen a photo of me in BnM, but as we all know that pic is a couple of years old and I had gotten a whole lot blonder and thinner in the face since then. To top it all off, I completely forgot I was supposed to meet the girl, so I wasn't even looking for her when I got off the bus. So we missed one another and decided she would be better to contact me during the Small Press Fair Saturday afternoon.

It was sunny and warm when I departed the bus in Fredericton, but that would soon change in the overnight with pre-hurricane rains descending upon the capital city. I grabbed my Monster Energy drink at Victory Meat when we went shopping for supper supplies. After downing it and a scrumptious supper (it's always better when I don't have to cook!) the wine started flowing and soon it was nearly midnight and time to go to the theatre, still energized and very much awake.

What to say about Rocky Horror? ... I FREAKING LOVED IT!! AMAZING! FABULOUS! What a great time! We weren't in costume. We didn't have props. But it didn't matter. Several of the audience did show up in costume, looking fantastic, and many people brought props and knew what to do with them. I had never been to a live performance before. I had never been to a theatre showing of the film. I've seen it on tv. That is all. But man! It's a completely different experience to be in a room filled with people partaking of the campy trashy fun! I would so go see this again and again. I understand the cult following in a way I never have before, that I could never just by sitting in my jammies in front of the tv on Halloween night.

If you're familiar with the movie you know how it opens.



So they had a huge screen that was almost like the curtain covering the stage, and she came from the back of the room to the stage singing. It was like she was singing right into a camera that was broadcasting her lips onto the screen. Very cool! And of course the credits rolled on the screen too, in trashy red Rocky Horror font. The big screen was also used for the first scene when Brad and Janet are in the car in the rain, which made it seem like we were all outside in the rain. Even more so when they got out to run to the Frank 'N Furter's mansion and everyone in the place held newspapers or their programs over their heads to keep dry.

Every time someone onstage said Janet's name the audience yelled, "SLUT!" And every time someone said Brad's name they yelled "ASSHOLE!" Which happens a lot!

As they approached the castle and Janet was singing "There's a light..." everyone in the audience turned on flashlights. I knew this stuff was going to happen, but I had no idea how much of an effect these interactive things would add to the performance. It was exciting to be there, to be a part of it.

When Riff Raff (who was excellent! from his first lines, I was agape by how good he was, how great the costuming was!) let them inside the castle, the screen lifted revealing the colourful red set. An elevator centre stage. A live band in the balconies upstairs. It was truly fabulous!

And then we did the Time Warp!



Oh my God! What a time! Everyone in the audience was on their feet dancing. Jumping to the left, stepping to the right, hands on their hips, knees in tight, pelvic thrusts ... honestly, so much fun! As the music built to Frank 'N Furter's entrance the anticipation was almost too much to take. Because everything so far had been beyond my wildest expectation, and all the characters so far had been spot on ... would Frank 'N Furter live up to the promise the production had already created? Or was that impossible?

When the elevator doors opened I actually squealed with delight. I couldn't contain myself. He was beyond fabulous! Totally the sweet transvestite! Great costume and sexy strut! A bit skinnier than Tim Curry, but perfect nonetheless.

Just when you would get caught up in the show and forget about the props in the audience it would be time for something else to happen and it would take you by surprise and take the whole thing to a brand new level. Like when they played the Wedding March and confetti rained down on everyone or when the rolls of toilet paper were surfing through the audience.

Overall, I can't say enough good stuff about the production. TNB did a great job. And now I'm even more excited to take the kids to see Narnia in December.

The weekend didn't end with Rocky Horror though, it was just the beginning. We spent Saturday at the Charlotte Street Arts Centre for a Small Press Fair. The cafe was closed, so we were there all day without sustenance, but it was a good day for BnM and I made some new contacts. Saturday evening saw us mad dashing to the Superstore for sustenance. A pasta feast followed. Yummy! And much wine. Much, much, wine. I don't know if it was all the wine, the lack of sleep, or what but Saturday night dissolved into fits of giggles, which I desperately needed.

Sunday saw us as passengers in a 15-seat van bound for Moncton, where we enjoyed some Acadian hospitality with a huge feast of a brunch and some great literary conversation about language and community. We drove home under threat of a hurricane that never came ... and then drank even more wine before calling it a night fairly early because Joe had a long day of work come Monday morning. He left just before 8am to pick up a rental van and drive to Sackville for a pick up, then Moncton, then back to King's Landing.

I puttered around packing to return to Miramichi on the bus. As I walked toward the bus station I realized I was shaky weak, totally not going to make it the few blocks, so I nipped into Kings Place in search of food energy. At Shoppers I bought some candy and chips for the bus ride, then I hit McMunchies for a bagel blt, hash browns and coffee. As I sat on the bus, barely able to keep my eyes open, let alone function mentally on any level, I wondered how in the frig Joe was making out driving all that way and lugging stuff to and from the van. He made out okay, but God love him, I didn't envy him the task that day. I slept a long time after I got home.

I discovered when I returned that we'd had a power outage at BnM headquarters and magazine production was now running a week behind as a result. I also had a lot of work to catch up on as I hadn't been doing any while I was away. So I dove in and buried myself for the next week. Stopping only long enough to dye my hair a dark brown that adhered to my former blonde dye job and turned coal black. With hair so long and thick and wavy ... and raven ... I felt every inch the witch as Stacy and I went to the movies to see Burn After Reading (which I enjoyed immensely, totally cracked me up). Later that night, my hair frustration became unbearable and I lopped off my hair (no, I was not drinking at the time, tho some PMS seems to have been involved)... but unlike the last time I lopped it all off, this time I totally screwed it up. So I locked myself in my apartment until I could get emergency hair surgery on Thanksgiving weekend. I went out only one time, because I needed to do banking, and I wore a hat. This meant I had to miss a Tea Party I had been looking forward to attending. Oh well. Live and learn.

So that brings us up to this past weekend. I went upriver on Friday after work so I could get my hair fixed on Saturday afternoon. I was doubtful it could be fixed, and was prepared that I might have to wear hats out everywhere for another few weeks, but my hairdresser worked a miracle and I escaped (just barely) with a style that looks as if it was intentional. It is short, and dark, and VERY different for me. I am probably unrecognizable to most people. But surprisingly, I like it! I'll have to see if I can get some pictures to post.

Saturday night we went out to celebrate birthdays. First supper at O'Donaghue's Pub in Chatham. Then the Opera House for ... dancing I guess, or proof positive that we're not teenagers anymore. I drank entirely too much. WAY too much! The burger I had was not the one I was craving, but it was pretty darn good though totally huge! I could not eat it all. And I can eat a pretty big burger. The gravy was amazing. But the cheesecake! Oh boy! The cheesecake was the best. Curl my toes good.

Sunday I had a pretty severe hang-over. A Monster Energy drink and a handful of Motrin really did nothing to ease the problem and normally that would set me right. I laid on the couch all afternoon watching Corrie and wondering how in the frig I was ever going to get to a place where I could do Thanksgiving Dinner. Then I found the ice cream. A couple of bowls of ice cream and a few glasses of water and I was able to throw in some grease by way of a bowl full of potato chips. By then it was 4pm and finally I could see my way clear to taking a shower without puking my guts up, which I did.

Supper was at my sister's house. And by 5:30 I was able to eat a big plate full of turkey and all the fixings followed by dessert. And after that I was right as rain and able to have some more wine and play games with my sisters and their husbands. We played Name That Tune 80s edition dvd game, which you might think I'd be good at, but I'm not really. I really only know pop from the early 80s because then I got heavy into partying and other things and didn't pay attention to much else going on, plus my musical tastes started to drift away from top 40 to less mainstream. Then in the late 80s I went to Toronto and discovered all the 70s and punk stuff. So I really was never into music videos much. And after about 1984 I completely stopped with the top songs countdowns, Grammy Awards, etc. It's a little weird but it feels like one day I was taping Rick Springfield off the tv onto a cassette recorder ... and then I never heard another thing until 1991 or 1992 or whenever it was that I went to work at the radio station. I honestly don't know what I was doing in between.

Mom called over to Jenn's later to tell Sherry and Gary to drive me home when they left because neighbours had seen a bear hanging around. When they drove me we thought we saw eyes just down the road, so it's good that I didn't walk. I was reminded of the night when Stacy and I were walking just below Joe's. It was one of those really dark nights where you can't see the hand in front of your face, and it was before everyone had dusk til dawn lights in their yards. You'd be walking along trying not to fall into the ditch. A car came and stopped. It was Uncle Terry and Bliss and they told us to get in because there was a bear in the ditch just right there in front of us. We would never have seen it. I've often wondered what, if anything, would have happened if they hadn't come along just then.

Yesterday I just hung out at Mom's all day and watched tv. This morning I came home with Jason on his way to work. It was freezing! And very foggy. It's still chilly. Of course I had hundreds of email from having been offline for a long weekend. And now I need to get up the gumption to go out and exercise my democratic right to vote. It's election day! I'll be following that closely later this evening.

But for now, you're up to date..

Mood: sleepy
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: computer humming
Hair: spiky, black

I Be Speaking

After much arm-twisting I've agreed to speak at an event this week. I say arm-twisting because the event is a little outside my comfort zone. If I were asked to speak to students or writers or anything in the realm of publishing or wanna-be publishing, if I were asked to emcee some sort of reading or awards ceremony or pretty much any event, I'd do it without hesitation, not a problem. I do that kind of stuff all the time ... but this is a little different.

This time I'm speaking to a group of young professionals and entrepreneurs, of which, apparently I am one, though I've never really identified myself as such. I won't be the only speaker, so I can be brief, a few minutes. I'm told some of the other speakers are from FatKat, which is cool. I'm really interested in hearing the speakers ... scared to death to BE one of them!

Of course, I could have just turned down the invitation, but if I've learned one thing through working in the Mighty Community it's that if it makes you uncomfortable that means you're growing, and you should always seize the opportunity to grow. I'm as uncomfortable as I've ever been, but off I go anyway! Here I grow again!

So if you're in the area and you're a young professional (or young at heart!) come hear me and some others speak at the official launch of MYPIE this Wednesday after work at the Rodd Hotel. More details about the group and the event at their website www.mypie.ca.

Mood: uncomfortable
Drinking: black coffee
Listening To: crows cawing
Hair: getting longer and thicker every day

I'm Gonna Win!

Theatre New Brunswick Rocky Horror Show Contest
As you aware, Theatre New Brunswick is proud to present The Rocky Horror Show September 25-28, with a Special Midnight Performance Friday, September 26. Rehearsals starring Tony LePage, Tania Breen, Shawn Henry, and some of Canada’s hottest talents including Canadian Idol finalist Aaron Walpole are well underway. I hope you are as excited as we are!

For all the Rocky Horror Show fans who have picked up their tickets, your purchase has automatically entered you in our fantastic contest to win 2 tickets to our fabulous Midnight Show Pre-Party at the James Joyce Irish Pub PLUS an overnight stay for 2 in an Executive Suite at the Crowne Plaza!

For our fans that have not yet picked up tickets, and any beloved fence-sitters, this is one show you will not want to miss. And with three of these amazing prize packages to be won, wait no longer if you would like to take part in our draw. Tickets are selling fast. Three draws for three prizes will be held next Wednesday, September 24 at 6:30 PM. Please see poster or visit the TNB website tnb.nb.ca for details.

Many of you have been asking about what to wear, what to bring, when to shout. Costumes, props, and enthusiastic participation are encouraged! Everything from newspapers, flashlights, surgical gloves, noisemakers, confetti, toilet paper, party hats, cards, bells, and whistles are welcome. Please leave rice, water, and toast at home.

Strap on your stilettos and warm up for Friday’s Midnight Show at the Official Pre-Party where a $7 admission at the door of the James Joyce includes a pint of Picaroons, Rocky Horror-themed food, a Participation Tutorial Session, and more.

Join us for the most outrageous theatre event of the season.
The Rocky Horror Show. DON’T DREAM IT. BE IT

I have tickets and I am going to win the hotel room and pre-party admission! Oh my God! I have NOTHING to wear! Somebody help me!

Mood: cheerful
Drinking: tea, i am doing the tea thing this week
Listening To: just me, typing
Hair: damp from shower earlier

Stuck in My Head

Mood: stressed to the max
Drinking: water
Listening To: music
Hair: stringy

Freedom to Choose

Sometimes we need a little reminder of the basics of life. Listening to Covey as I write for Sammy ... some highlights:

Don’t you feel better when the weather outside is great? What if you could carry your own weather with you? You could always feel great no matter what!

Don’t you feel better when people treat you well? Isn’t that a kind of social weather? When you carry your weather with you, you can choose to be consistent regardless of how people treat you. That’s being proactive. Being reactive is the opposite. You always see yourself as the victim —- of the weather, of your moods, of someone who has it in for you.

Your life is the result of your own decisions, not conditions, not what’s happening around you.

Between what happens to us and our response is a space. In that space lies our power and our freedom to choose our response, and in those choices lay our growth and our happiness.

Even in the midst of challenging circumstances we have this exhilarating power to choose how we will respond. This is the last human freedom, the power to choose your own response to any condition, to anything that happens to you.

It’s not what people do to us that hurts us, it’s our chosen response to what they do that hurts us.

As Gandhi said, “They cannot take away our self respect if we do not give it to them.”

We must simply never build our emotional life around the weaknesses of other people. Otherwise, we give them permission to continue to mess up our lives. We give our future away.

The miserable person at work doesn't make you miserable, you choose to be miserable.

We have the power and the freedom to choose, to create our own weather each day.

Mood: inspired, sleepy
Drinking: cheap, coarse, black coffee
Listening To: habits of productive people
Hair: tied up

100 Desserts

From WC over at ReTorte.

1. Bold what you've tried.
2. * What you've made.
3. Cross out what you wouldn't like.
4. Italicize something you've tried but didn't like.

I don't bake a lot and I'm not a real fussy eater, so I haven't met many desserts I haven't like. Some of the ones I crossed off, like coconut cream pie, just aren't my favourite thing but I'll enjoy a slice if that's all that's going around and I'm craving something sweet. It was fun to google what some of these things were to see from the ingredients if I thought I would like them or not.

1. Baklava
2. Chocolate Cake*
3. Blueberry Pie
4. Real Italian Gelato
5. Dessert Pizza
6. Lemon Meringue Pie
7. Rice Pudding
8. Spotted Dick
9. Amaretti
10. Jello Chocolate Pudding*
12. Spumoni
13. Angel Food Cake*
14. Creme Brulee
15. Deep Fried Ice Cream
16. Chocolate Fondue
17. New York Cheesecake*
18. Fruit Crumble or Crisp
19. Sacher Torte
20. Jam Roly Poly
21. Crepes Suzette
22. Quark Cake
23. Maple Sugar Pie
24. Key Lime Pie
25. Bananas Foster
26. Creme Caramel
27. Oeufs a la Neige
28. Baked Alaska
29. Gingerbread*
30. Blancmange
31. Linzer Tart
32. Carrot Cake
33. Steamed Pudding
34. Nanaimo Bar
35. Flan (the South American kind)
36. Sernik
37. Pastel de Nata
38. Wagashi
39. Marzipan
40. Dulce de Leche
41. Gulab Jamun
42. Tiramisu
43. Moroccan Date Cake
44. Black Forest Cake
45. Scottish Shortbread
46. Halva
47. Clafuti
48. Pumpkin Pie
49. Gajar Halwa
50. Plum Pudding
51. Pflaumenkuchen
52. Makroud el Louse
53. Eclairs
54. Palmier
55. Financier
56. Napoleons
57. Pastel de Tres Leches
58. Wagon Wheel
59. Treacle Tart
60. Date Squares
61. Eve's Pudding
62. Pears Poached in Red Wine
63. Snickerdoodles
64. Churros
65. Artisan Cheese Platter
66. Caramel Apple
67. Sex in a Pan
68. Devil's Food Cake
69. Red Velvet Cake
70. Mousse
71. Chocolate Dipped Strawberry*
72. Coconut Cream Pie
73. Semifreddo
74. Granita
75. Tortoni
76. Sticky Toffee Pudding
77. Peanut Buster Parfait
78. Zucchini Cake
79. Cannoli
80. Mont Blanc
81. Haupia
82. Eight Precious Pudding
83. Trifle
84. Popcorn Balls*
85. Ambrosia
86. dessert soup
87. Pasha
88. Berry Fool
89. Sweet Potato Pie
90. Bread Pudding
91. Raisin Pie
92. Strawberry Shortcake*
93. Apple Duff
94. Fruit Cake
95. Pineapple Upside Down Cake
96. Waffle Cone
97. Mango Sorbet
98. Truffles
99. Cherries Jubilee
100. Rice Crispy Square*

Mood: tired ... and HUNGRY now
Drinking: water
Listening To: not one blessed thing right there now
Hair: up in a pony tail

Green Festival This Weekend

This Labour Day weekend do something green! ECMA award winning country band, The Divorcees take the stage with 30 other groups covering music genres ranging from folk and blues to rock and jazz at the first annual Green Festival being held near Clairville, NB, from 10am Saturday August 30th until 6pm Monday, September 1st.

Enjoy the great outdoors, catch some live music, buy natural products from local artisans and learn about practical and affordable eco-friendly energy and consumer choices, all while the kids have a blast in a supervised play area featuring bouncy castles, games, face painting, pony and hay rides. With over 100 acres of onsite camping available you can plan to enjoy a few cold ones at the beer garden, catch even more live music, sleep over and do it all over again the next day.

Advance tickets are $10 per person per day, $25 for a 3-day pass, kids under 16 $5 per day, and children under the age of 5 get in free. At the gate it's $15 per day, $35 for a 3-day pass, and $7 per day for kids under the age of 16. Buy your tickets online here. Tickets are also being sold at various locations throughout the province, for a detailed list visit www.thegreenfestival.ca.

Going green is affordable! Plan to enjoy a family fun day out AND save money! For a detailed list of bands, vendors, weekend highlights and directions to the festival site visit The Green Festival online at www.greenfestival.ca.

Back in the Ring for Another Swing

I've been having a recurring dream. I guess it started late this past winter or early spring, perhaps March or April. In the beginning it showed up maybe once a month, but in the past two weeks I've been dreaming it almost every night. And it's started to bother me. I've been wondering what it means, what's on my mind. Recurring dreams, whether they're nightmares or not, drive me a little nuts and make it hard for me to get any decent rest.

The dream varies a little bit each time but the gist is I'm in Toronto, downtown at the Eaton Centre shopping, and the mall is super crowded and I have too many packages to carry and I don't seem to have enough money to get home.

The night before last Stacy was with me in the dream. We took a cab that cost $30 (ten bucks more than I had anticipated) and I was supposed to pay for it as I had invited Stacy along for the shopping trip and she didn't have any cash. It was like an SUV limo and we sat in the back with five of the cabbie's relatives he was taking to Scarborough after he dropped us off ... except he pulled over under the Gardiner ramps refusing to take us another inch until I produced the cash for the fare.

I had so many packages and shopping bags. Stacy and I were covered in them, I could barely find my purse. And then I found my purse and it was huge and bulging with stuff and I couldn't find my wallet amongst all the books, combs, make-up, phones, music, perfume, panty liners, pens, etc. And then I finally found my wallet and it was huge and stuffed with receipts and notes and I couldn't find any bills. I opened the change compartment and it was filled with quarters and dimes. Busting with silver change! I counted out $20 in change and then found a $10 gift certificate for some sort of ladies clothing store that I offered the driver to make up the difference. But he wasn't having any of it.

He took the change for the trip so far and kicked us to the curb. There we were huddling in the rain with a kazillion packages as traffic whizzed by on all sides and above our head.

In the dream I didn't really care about all the stuff; the stuff didn't matter at all. Every time I noticed a new bag or package, when I opened my purse to see all the stuff inside, the feeling was, "Oh God! Something else for me to carry! Something else for me to deal with!" I would have been content to give it all away to the homeless people living under the highway or to just abandon it by the side of the road, but who does that?! No, I couldn't shirk my responsibility. For some reason this stuff was important or I wouldn't be carrying it around in the first place, so I needed to make sure I got it home. There might be something in there I needed or gifts for the kids or ... well, who knows? I certainly didn't. And I couldn't just abandon a bunch of stuff without knowing what it was.

I woke up feeling really frustrated and overburdened. Still drowsy, I wondered again what these dreams mean. "I just have too many things to carry," I grumbled to myself. And then it hit me--I just have too many things to carry! Aha! I can't get where I want to go because I have too many things to carry ... symbolically, of course. As far as stuff goes, in real life, I literally don't have that much and I'm a frequent purger of flabby excess. But figuratively ... well, well, well, that's a whole other ballgame.

There is nothing like a week of the summer cold/flu to put life back into perspective. Or perhaps I only needed a rest. Regardless of what or how I got here, this morning I awoke a new woman.

I've been wanting to do some things lately ... like really sit down and figure out what I want to be when I grow up, like really sit down and determine some goals and direction and purpose for my life, like really take the time to put the Law of Attraction into use for my professional and personal life ... and like so many things worth doing I just haven't felt like I've had time to spare to do these things. But the dream tells me I need to take the time. These things are important and obviously weighing heavy on my mind.

I logged back into Sparkpeople this morning. You'll recall this website from my previous excursions into healthier living. It's a great site for learning all the how-tos of a healthy lifestyle. I have to say I've got the how-to part down pretty well. I know what I should eat and what I shouldn't. I know how much exercise I should be doing and how much I actually do on a regular basis. But logging into Sparkpeople and using the tools there to track my daily habits keeps me focused and gets me back in the groove. So after a week in bed and a weekend filled with cake, chips, and ice cream, I'm ready to put the needle on the record. I'm sure my trainer will be glad to see me show up at the gym to break the monotony of his afternoon. My health is so important to my energy levels.

But that's not all that's going on with me. I'm feeling some creative twinges. I'm getting antsy in the writing department. I'm craving order in the chaos that is currently my apartment. I'm longing for a routine that includes early morning personal writing. I am thinking of taking an extended blogging break in order to focus entirely on writing a book. It is difficult enough to do anything creative of my own with BnM constantly cluttering my brain, let alone blogging too. I think I need some space. I think I need to shift focus.

I know I've said this before but I'm really starting to feel like the time to do something is now. And I'm really starting to understand that I can't be a prolific blogger and finish my book at the same time. It's an either/or situation, not both, I've only got so much writing juice in me.

I guess this summer I've all ready been taking a bit of a break. I've not blogged much. Increasingly I find there are things I want to write about that I'm just not ready to share with the world at large yet. I need to write these things somewhere, while I have them in my mind, but not here, not now.

Anyway, I'm going on a bit of a hiatus. Knowing me I will most likely still blog once every week or two, but I'm not going back to a daily thing anytime soon. I'm going to take my mornings (my usual blog time) and use them for other writing. And hopefully one day soon I'll have good news about the completion of my manuscript.

Meanwhile, you can follow my twitter feed. If you're THAT interested in what I'm doing. It's hard to deplete your creative brain cells in 140 characters or less.

I need to unburden my life and figure out some things about myself. So I'm going to go do that and maybe I'll never have the dream again.

Mood: enlightened
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: buddy's washer upstairs
Hair: ponied

Oh Wouldn't It Be Nice

Well a handful of non-drowsy cold meds, half a bottle of hot sauce, 4L of water, and one sleepless night later I emerge with more energy and lust for life than I've had all week. I now pronounce myself CURED!

Of course, just as I'm immersing myself in all the stuff that went by the wayside this week and feeling like I can accomplish everything, I have to pack it in, shut it down, throw some stuff in a bag and blow this popsicle stand. Yeah, my dog needs a sitter. And he's my dog. And I love him. It's not his fault the timing sucks. And I'm grateful he even has a place to live. So I go offline into the dead zone for the weekend and hopefully I will return with gusto intact and totally kill next week.

Mood: hyper
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: the fan! because it's actually sunshine and hot!
Hair: ponied because ... see above

Sickly

I've been having a week. Feeling like crap on crack. Crap to the 10th power. Just crap. So this morning I woke up feeling no better, but the sun was out at least which is something. I got up, showered, made coffee, boiled the kettle for my neti pot, consumed bacon for some protein energy, and then popped some non-drowsy cold and flu medication. Me and non-drowsy meds ... well, it's a touchy situation. At this stage of the week though I really feel as if I have no other option. I need to get stuff done. I need to get better. I'm hopeful I can turn some stuff around today.

Mood: pretending I'm not ill
Drinking: coffee, black, water, wet
Listening To: skill saws and hammering as the renos next door continue
Hair: still damp from this morning's grooming

Scooter

I have a cold or something. Sore throat. Chest filled up. Pain around my eyes. No doubt a result of running around barefoot in the wet grass Friday night. Will I never learn? I really need to buy me some styling rubber boots.

Because I didn't sleep Sunday night and because I have been sickly, I skipped the gym yesterday opting instead to snooze on the futon for a few hours while episodes of Damages looped on the computer. I'm just getting into this series, but I really like it a lot. It's dark and gritty and I sit at the edge of my seat expecting at any moment that Glenn Close will boil a rabbit. Hasn't happened ... yet, but nothing would surprise me.

So today I'm trying to get up the gumption to head back into the gym. I still feel like crap, only slightly less so. Part of me thinks it's probably good for me to sweat out some of the bad stuff lingering in my body. Part of me just wants to curl up with a hot cup of something and suck on lozenges all afternoon. It remains to be seen which part of me will rule the day.

Mood: grey
Drinking: sludgy left-over from morning coffee
Listening To: renovations happening in the apartment next to mine, new neighbors soon
Hair: growing like weeds

The Writer in Me

I think I should write a book about dating in the 21st century. Seriously. I KNOW it would be funny! Oh, and educational. For sure! It could start with, "A magician, a prison guard and a backslid Christian walk into a bar ..."

But seriously. I am putting together a manuscript. I really am. An honest to goodness for real manuscript. I know, it's about time, right? Still, there's a huge part of me that doesn't believe anyone is interested in anything I've got to say. I know there are people who look to me and think I know a thing or two about this writing stuff ... damn! Have I ever pulled the wool over their eyes! :)

Mood: procrastinating, but trying to get back on track and write something
Drinking: water, but thinking maybe tea or hot chocolate is in order
Listening To: train whistling past enroute to Bathurst, Campbellton, Quebec City and Montreal by tomorrow morning
Hair: ponied up and clean

The More You See, The Less You Know

Oh you look so beautiful tonight, in the city of blinding lights ...

Well here I am on a sunny Monday morning. I wish I could say I was early to bed, early to rise, but no such luck. No rest for the wicked. I guess I slept too much on the weekend. I did spend most of the day Saturday and Sunday either lounging or sleeping as I didn't feel very well. This translated into a restless Sunday night of trying to sleep, given up as hopeless by 5am this morning. I feel surprisingly well rested and alert for someone who's been up all night. But the big question is, will I be able to handle the gym on no sleep? Today is only upper body which is never as brutal as lower so perhaps it's possible.

Last week was a crazy run-around week for me.

Wednesday I went to the office for a BnM meeting and then met up with the girls for Chinese buffet supper at the Rice King restaurant in Douglastown. I've only ever eaten there at lunch time. It seems a little pricey for supper in comparison to the other buffets in town ... but I guess you get dessert so maybe it's fine. We got there late and I barely had time to taste my food, let alone digest, before we had to get to the theatre for the movie so I didn't get to enjoy supper much. We saw Mama Mia! And I loved, loved, loved it! I could have walked right back in and watched it again at the late showing. Pierce shouldn't sing, but he's gorgeous so he's forgiven. I even cried. And I never cry in the theatre.

Thursday I met a friend for lunch and had a great chat for a couple of hours about everything under the sun including writerly type stuff and more. Definitely need to do that again! It's so refreshing to have someone else, single, in her 30s, going through the whole dating madness, to talk with. God, I needed that!

Thursday night because it was the last time for The Dark Knight to be shown at our theatre, Stacy and I made a spontaneous decision to go to the movies for the second night in a row. This time we had no time for supper so we munched out on popcorn and nachos and chocolate and all kinds of junk. I loved the movie! The best Batman movie ever, in my opinion. And I really enjoyed the last one because of my boy Cillian, of course. I've never been big on the Michael Keaton ones to begin with, so I'm all about Christian Bale. I just like him. He's a good Batman. But Heath! OMG! He was such a great Joker. Better than Jack. It's such a sin that he's gone and won't be able to do more.

Friday night I went to the Napan Fair with the family and children. It was wet. There were flies. No really, there were FLIES! Like thousands of them! Houseflies, not black flies. It's because of the horses and livestock, but still ... there's something unsettling about bags of cotton candy covered with houseflies. Needless to say any urge I had for a candy apple didn't last long. I was covered to my knees in mud. Very reminiscent of the long weekend family reunion. And my feet are still cold. As if the flies and soggy ground weren't enough, it actually piss-poured rain and I didn't get to enjoy any of the events in the ring other than some border collies herding sheep and ducks and jumping through hoops. My aunt's event was postponed until the following day. So I pretty much ruined my sandals and got all wet for ... the ability to say I've been ... without actually seeing anything. I would go again next year, but only in good weather.

I'm going to Fredericton next month to participate in a Small Press Fair. It's the same weekend as the Side by Side literary festival so I'm going to take in some events for that too. And this weekend I also noticed that same weekend is TNB's midnight production of Rocky Horror, so I got tickets! I'm psyched about it! Makes for a busy weekend, not a lot of sleep, but I think it'll be something to experience for sure. I'd been debating whether to go or not, but since I'm going to be in town anyway, that just sealed the deal for me.

Yesterday, I got invited to an authentic Cajun feast happening next month too. Someone from Louisiana who I've only met through email and has written about Mardi Gras and Hurricane Katrina for BnM is coming to the Miramichi to visit. I'm excited to meet him after all these years and happy to have been invited to the dinner he's preparing. Should make for an interesting evening for sure.

And now I should stog some protein down my throat and try to make my way to the gym.

Mood: getting a little foggy
Drinking: coffee, black, cold
Listening To: email dinging into my inbox
Hair: laundered and wild

Wicked Wednesday

It's happened ... yep. I am addicted to Big Brother. How does this freaking happen?! I didn't watch Season 6 but All-Stars hooked me back in. Then last year I didn't watch at all, but this year I'm right back in the saddle again. Why?!

Big day today! BnM Meeting, supper with the girls, and MOVIE NITE! Yay! Mama Mia! Here I come!

Mood: happy
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: BB10
Hair: ponied

In Repair

We've kind of got this unique situation going on living here in New Brunswick, in the Miramichi region, which our ancestors settled when it was nothing but woods and wild animals and native tribes, where the greatest majority of our family still reside and will continue to call home well after I'm dead and gone. There's this overwhelming sense of family and community here. How could it be any other way? I think we tend to take it for granted until someone comes along who doesn't have deep family roots to any part of the world, who was merely born someplace and then settled elsewhere and elsewhere and elsewhere, who's family are scattered throughout the corners of the earth only to be seen once every few years if they're lucky. These people seem almost like freaks of nature to me, so far removed from my experience is theirs. But in reality there are probably a lot more people living that life than there are living one like mine.

I've been reading Nancy Huston's The Mark of the Angel, which is set in France in 50s, 60s and beyond. The Second World War is close in the public conscious. Memories surface of slaughter in Hungary, Poland, and more. Conflict is happening in Algeria. There are freedom fighters and ethnic killings and displaced persons.

I've noticed the news about Georgia and Russia.

I wonder about Afghanistan and Iraq.

I think about genocide and try to fathom how we the people of the world can allow these crimes against humanity on the African continent and beyond.

I'm reading Sally Armstrong's The Nine Lives of Charlotte Taylor, about the first woman settler of the Miramichi, the Mother of Tabusintac, who left her family behind to come to the new world to live the life she always dreamed of living.

All these people displaced, either being forced to flee their homes for fear of death or feeling they must abandon their roots in order to move forward.

It's something I don't think many of us living here with our deep family ties can even imagine. Yes, some people move away and don't come back. Yes, a whole lot more of our people are going out west to work. But it's not the same. It's not even remotely the same. Imagine if soldiers came in the night with machetes, with guns. Imagine if they slaughtered everyone in their sight and burned our homes and businesses to the ground. Imagine if we had no choice but to run away on foot with nothing but the clothes on our back and try to get out of the country. Try to get on a ship that would take us to refugee camps where we would live like animals in a barn relying on the kindness of the world to feed us and look after us. My God! How would we survive? Would everyone be strong enough and lucky enough? Imagine having to suffer the grief of losing family members forever.

I can't imagine. I just can't. It seems impossible these things happen in the world. And yet Canada is a country of immigrants, many of them first generation, many of them having witnessed and escaped from the terror of war. Meanwhile I sit here in my beautiful life with the roots of my existence so deeply embedded in this place that I physically ache for the river's landscape when I am away and I know there are horrors happening that I cannot even imagine, that I would be better off emotionally and mentally just to ignore and pretend into non-existence, and I know we should do something, the good citizens of the world should do something to stop this ... but what? I sign a petition to pressure government. I say the occasional prayer. I donate the random dollar ... what else is there? What can we do?

Mood: deep introspection
Drinking: coffee, french, black, organic, fair trade
Listening To: jubilee, patti smith
Hair: ponied

Men Are Like Lightbulbs

You just keep screwing them until you find the right one. They tend to burn out with time. All of them are not equally as bright ... Thanks, Swingers!

It's not over until the fat lady tries to strangle you. Ha!

And that's all I'm saying about that.

***

Yesterday was one of those glorious fall-like days with sunshine and cool breezes that make me feel reborn. I needed a day like that. Badly. I've been a little off. All summer. Since before summer even. But no more! I'm back! And I mean business! This week I'm going to take time to do goal setting. Real goal setting. I need to check in and remind myself of the goals I set out with at the beginning of this year. I need to look at my list of 101 things and see if they're still relevant to my life. I need to ask myself what I want and nail down some solid answers. This week I'm focused on seizing control of my life. I feel like I've stepped to the sidelines and been willing to just accept whatever happens, rather than make what I want to happen. I've been without direction, wandering aimlessly, dealing rather than seeking or creating. But no more. Sunday morning I was reborn and also reconnected with the me I used to be--the me I was when I first moved back to Miramichi, the happy me who had a direction and a purpose, the me filled with gratitude and love. I know things are not right in my universe when I'm not blogging everyday. And I haven't been blogging everyday all summer. But that's changing starting today. I'm back! And I'm better than ever!

Mood: energized
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: boats chugging past on the water
Hair: tousled

Renegade

I haven't been doing very well this week. And last, if I'm honest. And the week before that if you want to know the truth. It's mostly physical. Summer is not my best season. Winter is. And I guess I can't do anything about that. It is what it is. When it's really cold. I mean see your breath, fog rolls in the door when you open it, kind of cold, I live a basically pain-free existence. There are no swollen ankles. There are no achy hands. There are no sticky knees. Ten years ago I would have laughed in your face if you tried to tell me that winter would one day become my favourite season. Who could've known?

So I've done myself a great disservice by spending a weekend outside in the rain, soaked to my knees in mud. By the time we left the reunion on Sunday my hands were so achy I couldn't hold a cup. And I would've needed to hold a cup and slap back a bunch of drinks to have lasted the rest of the afternoon. I feel like my feet will never be warm again. My legs are stiff and swollen. My hands are still aching and numb. I haven't been to the gym all week. I have no intention of going (and it appears to be closed anyway, which makes that decision easier). The dampness is right in my bones. It's in my bones and it hurts. And the constant pain puts me in a foul mood. And the pain exhausts me. And the constant exhaustion frustrates me. And I just want to hide under the covers and weep. But I'm too tired and frustrated to even cry. It all takes too much energy. And I have none. No energy.

This is an arthritis flare. It won't last forever. And it's been quite some time since I've had one. I consider myself lucky. I used to feel this way more often than not. And that was not good. Most times I manage. Some times I don't. Right now, I'm not. But I will again. I've been through worse for longer. I'll come out of this too. Maybe all I need is a sea salt soak. Maybe all I need is a pair of wooly socks.

Mood: tired
Drinking: red bull
Listening To: smodcast
Hair: longish

Big Weekend Upcoming

Lately I've been feeling very much out of control, like my life is running me, not that I'm running it. I'm very tired a lot of the time. Trying to cling to some sort of routine. There just seems to be too much to do, too many people to please. Something's gotta give soon, or I'm going to keel over. My dreams this week have been wicked. So real. So intense. Makes for exhausting sleep. Every weekend this summer I've had plans. And heading into August, I still have plans. This never happens. I want a weekend to just stay home alone and watch movies. To turn off the phone, curl up in my jammies on the futon and drink wine and eat dark chocolate. I'm actually looking forward to fall and winter, to a slower pace, to a steadier routine. I feel like I've been running flat out since the middle of March. Oh well, I pound back another energy drink and get ready to go to the gym. I'm enjoying the gym. The gym seems to help.

This weekend is the annual Coughlan family reunion. There may not be as many people as in previous years. Rain in the forecast. A lot going on elsewhere including the Eagles concert in Moncton and racing in Chatham. But I'm going. I'm actually looking forward to it and don't care if nobody goes. I'm hoping to relax. To just chill out. Of course it's more likely that I will turn into party animal person, stay up too late, get up too early, eat too little, need two days to recover, but still I have the hope of rest and relaxation. I think I'll make some jerk chicken nachos to take with me. They were a hit with some last year. Too spicy for others.

Mood: tired
Drinking: sobe
Listening To: thunder
Hair: ponies

Onward

The days are rolling by with me barely hanging on in the whirlwind. No time for blogging, still. And stuff has been going on. Lots and lots of stuff. Interesting stuff and boring stuff. But I'm not going to tell you any of it! And some of it, I know, you'd really like to know. Maybe later, in another life, when we are cats.

Left yesterday morning around 6 on 2 hours sleep and headed to Grand Falls for a seminar on the Law of Attraction. Did not return until nearly 9pm. Worked til nearly midnight. Slept very late today. Feeling much better. Crunch week at BnM. Looking forward to the weekend when I have a date! Yes, a real one, and no, that's all I'm saying about that, details under wraps for now. Also thinking some friends might be coming in from Toronto. As yet, unconfirmed. But that could be a lot of fun.

Mood: tornado in the brain
Drinking: coffee, black, organic
Listening To: crows cawing and another bird sounding oddly like a rooster
Hair: needing a little tlc

Meme Again

I got this from Wandering Coyote.

I am: fabulous!

I think: life is awesome

I know: a positive attitude is essential

I have: wonderful friends and family

I wish: I didn't need sleep

I hate: procrastinating

I miss: my dog

I fear: losing the people i love

I hear: birds chirping, old guy grumbling downstairs

I smell: coffee brewing

I crave: intimacy

I search: for a better understanding of myself

I wonder: about everything

I regret: nothing

I love: good books, fine wine, hot 'n spicy food

I ache: when the humidity is high

I am not: perfect

I believe: in myself

I dance: around my apartment while i do housework

I sing: when i'm alone

I cry: when i see cruelty

I fight: for what i believe in

I win: sometimes

I lose: sometimes

I never: travelled to europe

I always: wanted to go to ireland and italy

I confuse: others sometimes

I listen: to rock music

I can usually be found: at home in front of the computer

I am scared: of spiders and snakes

I need: protein

I am happy about: my life

I imagine: my life will only get better and better

Mood: optimistic
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: sneezing
Hair: damp

Chillz

I realize I haven't been blogging much. These are busy times. Our regular blogging schedule may not commence until fall. In the meantime, I try to twitter some. It's the best I can do.

Mood: chillin' with john
Drinking: water
Listening To: msn piping in
Hair: headbanded

Been Sweltering & Busy

So we had a bit of a heatwave. My apartment was not a pleasant living/working environment for sure. I don't mind heat, but humidity is not good. A few night's this week I stayed up all night and worked rather than beat myself up about not being able to think during the day. I continued to go to the gym though, which was kinda nuts. Working out in the heat of the day during a heatwave takes some freaking dedication, let me tell you! Today is much cooler. MUCH! It's like I've moved to a completely new planet. But today I cancelled my training because I'm packing to go to Fundy. Leaving later this afternoon. And there's so much to do, that I didn't want to try and cram in a work-out too and get all stressed. I think that's okay.

I'm feeling a little ill today, sinus headache, queasy. Maybe I should check the expiry on those egg whites ... Cannot wait to be twittering from Alma!

Mood: excited, rushed
Drinking: water
Listening To: the fan
Hair: forgotten and neglected

Sticky

The humidity is high. How do I know this? My joints are swollen :( I hate that! Nevertheless I went to the gym today. Even though I have blisters on the pads of my feet the size of loonies and my head feels like it's going to pop off and my knees are locking and my fingers aching -- despite everything I walked down, trained, and walked home again. I even agreed to go walking this evening at the cove (which thankfully got cancelled!) because dammit getting into shape isn't easy and it's time to suck it up and stay on the move. But crap, this humidity sucks the big one. Honestly.

Today after I showered I just laid on the bed wet and naked for 20 minutes unwilling to move. I don't have A/C, just one fan. I keep the windows open for the breeze off the water, curtains closed to block the sun, lesser people would die in here, I'm sure of it.

My trainer remarked with surprise that he already noticed a difference in me today. I've only had four sessions. But it's true, I also notice a difference. My weight has always been pretty touchy, in that I can lose pretty quick and gain even quicker. Really, all I've done so far is walk more, drink more water, eat more frequently and go to the gym four times. I think I'll save the calorie counting for the plateau. That's the one thing everyone can count on.

Mood: tired
Drinking: nothing, need water
Listening To: a transport climbing Ledden hill
Hair: headbanded, slick, greasy, damp with sweat