Saturday, December 31, 2005

This is the beginning

This is the beginning, almost, of 2006. It's a good way to start the year having cut loose that part of me, my life, that wasn't working. I'm not here for that anymore. I won't be locked in a power struggle that I cannot win. Walking away is winning.

Monday, December 26, 2005

Bunny Hop

I'm trying to remind myself that healing isn't linear. Sometimes you have to re-cover old ground to move forward. I'm getting caught up in old things today, sparked by other old feelings, perhaps. I'm trying not to let that make me feel that I haven't moved a long way forward. Because I have.

Sunday, December 25, 2005


It's over, we have the house back to ourselves. Quiet.

I feel mixed about having to pay J's rent this month on top of everything else we've tried to do for his family. I'm trying to remember that we're so lucky to be in a position to be able to help, and that we're doing the right thing, but I feel that we are going to end up having to do this regularly and often. There's no good answer. If you help, you're enabling - if you don't, you're letting a family member suffer.

I think what bothers me most is that I can hear my mother's voice in my head and I'm struggling not to say anything that she said when she was helping to support Nana and my sister. You make the right choices in life and your reward is that you get to carry the ones who didn't. These are adult people ~ why aren't they taking care of themselves? There's no free lunch in this world. I'll be so glad when I have no one suckling at my teets!! Her voice is loud inside my head and my reaction feels almost reflex, like I've been conditioned to resent something that I'm not even really sure I resent. Maybe I do resent it. Maybe I'm just like her. I don't believe in lending money; I believe in giving it. And I don't believe in holding those things over people to control them later. I've watched it and it's why I've never asked them for money for anything. I think it's quite likely that I'm not a very nice person. I seem to have picked up, against my will, the prejudices that I hated, in spite of recognizing them at a glance.

This has been my first Christmas away from my family, ever. And it was way harder than I thought it would be. I think having my mother-in-law ask me (about fourteen times) if I missed them made it harder.

I really don't like people very much. Not in large doses like that. Just a couple of hours here and there is enough. I'm becoming more neurotic the older I get.

Saturday, December 24, 2005


It would be a yukky thing for me to say here, on Christmas Eve, that I feel lonely tonight and that I wish I could at least be lonely alone.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Test Shot 2

Test Shots

Shawn took a lot of pictures today and I realised that I am much uglier than I thought. The dogs are cute though. Big Pup is doing well in the cast. Only a week and a half to go.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

I Miss

I Miss Misti.

I really really do.

That's all I ask of you.

Next week is Shawn's Christmas party.

I might be too thin-skinned to be a crusader. But I'm trying anyhow.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005


Steve has some grave doubts about my intentions. He would like to reassure himself that I am not allowing my religious, cultural or moral biases to influence my opinion about the issue at hand. Steve is an important author who wrote a book about the CFL. I wish I'd known this before I'd replied; it provides an amusing backdrop to our discussion about censorship and personal beliefs. I thought I was talking to a Ph.D., and perhaps I took Steve's everso slightly snarky letter a little more seriously than I ought to have.

Monday, December 05, 2005

You're embarrassing me/ You're embarrassing you

I hate when I get near the end of a book and I don't want it to be over.

I never felt sicker over a book than when I read The Way The Crow Flies.

I have White Coat Syndrome, by the way. That means I'm scared of doctors. I'm not sure why; I can't remember one ever being anything but nice. But they make my heart pound, and consequently most of my medical charts indicate concern over a very fast heart rate. Just watching them reach for the stethoscope sets my heart racing. In fact, it even happens at Shoppers Drug Mart when I put my arm in the little blood pressure cuff. Something about knowing it's being checked makes it go crazy.

I wrote to Y tonight. That was an odd thing to do.