i've been struggling with my commitments to myself, and refining my goals. for the sake of emptying out my head, i'm taking a friend's suggestion and dumping a list of what i don't want:
i don't want to wear a size 12 anymore; i want to fit into a 6.
i don't want a hideous peach coloured bathroom.
i don't want a messy house.
i don't want a broken dryer.
i don't want dead plants in my house.
i don't want to be so fucking lazy.
i don't want to make up excuses to avoid the gym.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
resolution
–noun
1.
a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.
2.
a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.
3.
the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.
4.
the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.
5.
the act or process of resolving or separating into constituent or elementary parts.
6.
the resulting state.
7.
Optics. the act, process, or capability of distinguishing between two separate but adjacent objects or sources of light or between two nearly equal wavelengths. Compare resolving power.
8.
a solution, accommodation, or settling of a problem, controversy, etc.
9.
Music.
a.
the progression of a voice part or of the harmony as a whole from a dissonance to a consonance.
b.
the tone or chord to which a dissonance is resolved.
10.
reduction to a simpler form; conversion.
11.
Medicine/Medical. the reduction or disappearance of a swelling or inflammation without suppuration.
12.
the degree of sharpness of a computer-generated image as measured by the number of dots per linear inch in a hard-copy printout or the number of pixels across and down on a display screen.
1.
a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.
2.
a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.
3.
the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.
4.
the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.
5.
the act or process of resolving or separating into constituent or elementary parts.
6.
the resulting state.
7.
Optics. the act, process, or capability of distinguishing between two separate but adjacent objects or sources of light or between two nearly equal wavelengths. Compare resolving power.
8.
a solution, accommodation, or settling of a problem, controversy, etc.
9.
Music.
a.
the progression of a voice part or of the harmony as a whole from a dissonance to a consonance.
b.
the tone or chord to which a dissonance is resolved.
10.
reduction to a simpler form; conversion.
11.
Medicine/Medical. the reduction or disappearance of a swelling or inflammation without suppuration.
12.
the degree of sharpness of a computer-generated image as measured by the number of dots per linear inch in a hard-copy printout or the number of pixels across and down on a display screen.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
so long, and thanks for all the fish.
at christmas' past, i was a hyper, excited, staying-awake-all-night with excitement kind of kid. the memories i have in that house, from early childhood, are still vibrant and alive with colour, scents, faces, voices, and food. later on, it was fun to watch other little kids get excited and munch the food. then the other little kids got older and i still showed up at my grandma's house to spend the evening listening to her go on and on about how fabulous all of her grandchildren were (except me. she couldn't find anything good to say about me. funny that.).
even funnier is that i pulled myself out of a very dark hole 4 years ago, landed a job in my chosen field, paid my bills and my taxes, and bought a condo. all by myself. except for a chunk of change i borrowed from grandma (all grandkids have borrowed, but i borrowed slightly more to mitigate the lack of a second income in my household). no spouse. i had, from my perspective, back at that time, two choices: live or die. i made a commitment to live, on the condition that i live well. the half-assed life i had created for myself was killing me. apathy and grief were killing me. i gave myself one last shot at trying one last time - with a time limit of a year. i gave it my all and i got results in 5 months. good thing, too, because plan b was to off myself if i found myself miserable at the end of the year.
i've made mind-boggling changes in the last 3.5 years. only family member who has told me he was proud of me was Dad.
i just returned from a visit with some relatives in oregon. it was a decent enough visit, given that i'm the black sheep in my family and fall on the receiving end of all kinds of shit and misery whenever i go there. most of the time it doesn't bother me, but this year i'm a little raw from the funeral and missing my dad. i'm a little raw from being thrown into the poorhouse and didn't have my usual requisite "going shopping" fuck you in my back pocket. it follows that i'm more emotional and less in control of my impulses, particularly the impulses to lash out angrily at other people.
here's my current favourite - yesterday, a game of scrabble with the boyfriend, my mom, and grandma. she started WHINING about a word i created with two blank tiles, and after she kept it up i flipped them both over and found there i had a tile flipped over. it was an R and i needed an E. i had an E. don't know how i fucked that up exactly, but i fucked it up just enough to be continually shamed at the table until another turn, when she told me "tided" wasn't a word and couldn't be used on the board (it's a word, i looked it up). she completely fucked me over and laughed at me, after i pointed it out in the dictionary. and had the gall, after that, to complain that i wasn't forgiving enough. i kept my composure. bitch didn't win at the table, but she's still occupying my head.
they go out. i stay in. we go to bed. the boy starts nudging me because i'm snoring. i get up to go sleep on the couch, mum and grandma are back from the uncle's place, and still up. she says, "so you stayed home alone and ate fried pork skins while we had pot roast". the smile on her face is sickening. i'm already fuming mad that i can't go back to sleep on the couch (it's occupied by my urine-stenchy grandmother) and now this?
lovely.
i get tired of waiting for them to go to bed and retire upstairs to yet another filthy bedroom. my mother calls upstairs SECONDS later - all of a sudden they're going to bed and i can have the couch if i want it. my grandmother is beside herself with anguish as she asks me, "why didn't you TELL me you needed the couch??"
"because it's YOUR HOUSE."
i'm seriously considering the boyfriend's suggestion that next year i spend a few days with my mum in Mexico or Palm Fucking Springs. i'm not spending another day in that filthy, decrepit house of hatred. i don't have to and i'm not going to. i spent some time there this year out of a sense of duty to my mother, but i'm not playing this game anymore. without my dad there to buffer, commiserate, deflect, and play occasional jester, i'm finding the mood in that place dark and depressing and intolerable.
no one went out of their way to make me feel unwelcome when i was 5. no one went out of their way to make me feel unwelcome AFTER whining incessantly when i told them i couldn't make it that year. after i relented and adjusted my commitments so i could go.
yeah i guess you could say the magic wore off.
so long, and thanks for all the fish.
even funnier is that i pulled myself out of a very dark hole 4 years ago, landed a job in my chosen field, paid my bills and my taxes, and bought a condo. all by myself. except for a chunk of change i borrowed from grandma (all grandkids have borrowed, but i borrowed slightly more to mitigate the lack of a second income in my household). no spouse. i had, from my perspective, back at that time, two choices: live or die. i made a commitment to live, on the condition that i live well. the half-assed life i had created for myself was killing me. apathy and grief were killing me. i gave myself one last shot at trying one last time - with a time limit of a year. i gave it my all and i got results in 5 months. good thing, too, because plan b was to off myself if i found myself miserable at the end of the year.
i've made mind-boggling changes in the last 3.5 years. only family member who has told me he was proud of me was Dad.
i just returned from a visit with some relatives in oregon. it was a decent enough visit, given that i'm the black sheep in my family and fall on the receiving end of all kinds of shit and misery whenever i go there. most of the time it doesn't bother me, but this year i'm a little raw from the funeral and missing my dad. i'm a little raw from being thrown into the poorhouse and didn't have my usual requisite "going shopping" fuck you in my back pocket. it follows that i'm more emotional and less in control of my impulses, particularly the impulses to lash out angrily at other people.
here's my current favourite - yesterday, a game of scrabble with the boyfriend, my mom, and grandma. she started WHINING about a word i created with two blank tiles, and after she kept it up i flipped them both over and found there i had a tile flipped over. it was an R and i needed an E. i had an E. don't know how i fucked that up exactly, but i fucked it up just enough to be continually shamed at the table until another turn, when she told me "tided" wasn't a word and couldn't be used on the board (it's a word, i looked it up). she completely fucked me over and laughed at me, after i pointed it out in the dictionary. and had the gall, after that, to complain that i wasn't forgiving enough. i kept my composure. bitch didn't win at the table, but she's still occupying my head.
they go out. i stay in. we go to bed. the boy starts nudging me because i'm snoring. i get up to go sleep on the couch, mum and grandma are back from the uncle's place, and still up. she says, "so you stayed home alone and ate fried pork skins while we had pot roast". the smile on her face is sickening. i'm already fuming mad that i can't go back to sleep on the couch (it's occupied by my urine-stenchy grandmother) and now this?
lovely.
i get tired of waiting for them to go to bed and retire upstairs to yet another filthy bedroom. my mother calls upstairs SECONDS later - all of a sudden they're going to bed and i can have the couch if i want it. my grandmother is beside herself with anguish as she asks me, "why didn't you TELL me you needed the couch??"
"because it's YOUR HOUSE."
i'm seriously considering the boyfriend's suggestion that next year i spend a few days with my mum in Mexico or Palm Fucking Springs. i'm not spending another day in that filthy, decrepit house of hatred. i don't have to and i'm not going to. i spent some time there this year out of a sense of duty to my mother, but i'm not playing this game anymore. without my dad there to buffer, commiserate, deflect, and play occasional jester, i'm finding the mood in that place dark and depressing and intolerable.
no one went out of their way to make me feel unwelcome when i was 5. no one went out of their way to make me feel unwelcome AFTER whining incessantly when i told them i couldn't make it that year. after i relented and adjusted my commitments so i could go.
yeah i guess you could say the magic wore off.
so long, and thanks for all the fish.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
niente
i got nuffin' but cramps and a cranky mood.
i'm bored. and much more importantly, boring. i'm getting tired of myself; moping, sad, tired. my boyfriend pointed out to me recently that "i'm not really myself right now" is not the most useful way of putting things - that this IS me, under extroardinary circumstances. i still don't like it. i don't like short-term memory failure. i don't like having difficulty speaking when the thoughts are there and i can't seem to make my mouth move.
the kubler-ross model of grief stages outlines five:
denial
anger
bargaining
depression
acceptance
need to figure out what i need to do to get to the acceptance part because the depression shit is getting old.
i'm bored. and much more importantly, boring. i'm getting tired of myself; moping, sad, tired. my boyfriend pointed out to me recently that "i'm not really myself right now" is not the most useful way of putting things - that this IS me, under extroardinary circumstances. i still don't like it. i don't like short-term memory failure. i don't like having difficulty speaking when the thoughts are there and i can't seem to make my mouth move.
the kubler-ross model of grief stages outlines five:
denial
anger
bargaining
depression
acceptance
need to figure out what i need to do to get to the acceptance part because the depression shit is getting old.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
reality check
at work, we talk about the neighbourhood i live in as the hub of the "young and funky" demographic. or at least, the goal is to attract the young and funky.
having just spent an hour in the mall two blocks from my residence, i noticed not one but two, TWO retailers specializing in BLACK T-SHIRTS WITH MOTHERFUCKING AIRBRUSHED WOLVES AND SHIT. i didn't make it all the way through the mall - there could be more. i don't know.
the airbrushed wildlife demographic is not what i would call "young and funky". i see a lot of that shit on the advanced middle aged or elderly, potbellied, and balding demographic, regardless of gender. these people are a sort that i actively avoid coming into contact, or even close proximity - their appearance is emblematic of odours i really hate - stale liquor and cigarettes, catboxes, urine:
having just spent an hour in the mall two blocks from my residence, i noticed not one but two, TWO retailers specializing in BLACK T-SHIRTS WITH MOTHERFUCKING AIRBRUSHED WOLVES AND SHIT. i didn't make it all the way through the mall - there could be more. i don't know.
the airbrushed wildlife demographic is not what i would call "young and funky". i see a lot of that shit on the advanced middle aged or elderly, potbellied, and balding demographic, regardless of gender. these people are a sort that i actively avoid coming into contact, or even close proximity - their appearance is emblematic of odours i really hate - stale liquor and cigarettes, catboxes, urine:
a side note - i motherfucking hate running errands during the christmas shopping season. i'm on the verge of a panic attack from bumping into strangers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)