It's degrading.
If the club is that full that you have to stand outside in a line-up like a sheep on its way to the slaughter, what's the point?
Why should I allow myself to be bullied by some surly security guard and stand there and hope that he'll let me in. If they don't want my business, I'll just go somewhere else, and if they don't want my business, I'll just go home. There is no way in hell I'd ever cater to security guards and bouncers. Play up to some steroid case on a power trip in order to pay a cover charge to get into a no doubt over-crowded establishment where the staff is surly and snooty and the customers wasted and stupid? No thank you!
The line-ups for some clubs look pathetic. People standing there like morons freezing their asses off in their skimpy clothes just so they can get into the current hotspot just so they can be there. Just because someone hip and trendy decided that this is where you should go on a Saturday or a Friday night. There's something sad about it, when you think about it. All that pushing and shoving like cattle trying to get to the water trough during a drought, total disregard for your fellow human beings. Girls with lost expressions in their eyes.
Now there are exceptions to this of course. Clubs aren't all like this, naturally. I would gladly go to a place where people actually go to dance, such a latin club for example. I like dancing. I'm not referring to actual dance clubs, but to clubs where you go just to get drunk, or worse, places you go when you are already hammered. If I want to sit around and booze it up and talk at the top of my lungs where the majority of the conversation goes something like: "HUH??", I can do this at home.
I'd rather have a root canal done than stand in one of these silly line-ups.
The reason for this rant is that I just read a story in a newspaper written by a girl who really did get seriously injured in this type of freakshow.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
A smelly army base is heaven
I grew up being what you might call an army brat. We never moved around like a lot of military families but my father's army regiment still played a large part in my life.
They closed it down sometime in the late 90's and now it holds several companies and businesses. I had occasion to visit one such business the other day when we had to take Kelly to the vet. The vet office is situated in what used to be the medical building.
As soon as I walked through the door I could feel that special smell. You can't put your finger on it. It's like a mix between coffee and shoe leather and something else. Impossible to define. All I know is that I love it. The mess hall also smelled like that, but with a hint of food thrown into the mix. It's funny how some of the buildings still smell the same. It's as though the smell is firmly permeated in the walls.
The barrack buildings were these huge, yellow concrete buildings that always smelled of musky, old socks. They were sparsely furnished with metal bunk beds and simple chairs. There were attics and nooks and crannies, and I loved being there. Everything from the smell to the stale cookies that were always available in bulk boxes in the coffee room. I'd tag along with my father while he taught telecommunications to young guys doing their military service. I would sit there with my nose in a book or pretend that I was working there too, by stapling papers together or something like that.
All the military men were dry but friendly. When they joked with you, you were never quite sure whether they were kidding or not.
I miss that army regiment, just because it was such a safe, happy place. It smelled weird and it was stiff and dreary but it was a place of excitement. Even today that smell brings back fond memories and makes me feel oddly safe.
They closed it down sometime in the late 90's and now it holds several companies and businesses. I had occasion to visit one such business the other day when we had to take Kelly to the vet. The vet office is situated in what used to be the medical building.
As soon as I walked through the door I could feel that special smell. You can't put your finger on it. It's like a mix between coffee and shoe leather and something else. Impossible to define. All I know is that I love it. The mess hall also smelled like that, but with a hint of food thrown into the mix. It's funny how some of the buildings still smell the same. It's as though the smell is firmly permeated in the walls.
The barrack buildings were these huge, yellow concrete buildings that always smelled of musky, old socks. They were sparsely furnished with metal bunk beds and simple chairs. There were attics and nooks and crannies, and I loved being there. Everything from the smell to the stale cookies that were always available in bulk boxes in the coffee room. I'd tag along with my father while he taught telecommunications to young guys doing their military service. I would sit there with my nose in a book or pretend that I was working there too, by stapling papers together or something like that.
All the military men were dry but friendly. When they joked with you, you were never quite sure whether they were kidding or not.
I miss that army regiment, just because it was such a safe, happy place. It smelled weird and it was stiff and dreary but it was a place of excitement. Even today that smell brings back fond memories and makes me feel oddly safe.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
High class problem in the city of Östersund
Crisis in Libya, crisis in Egypt not too long ago. People fighting for their political rights, dying for the cause.
Meanwhile in the town of Östersund, the inhabitants are faced with their own crisis - the local dairy company changed the design of the milk cartoons, making it more difficult to open. Local newspaper features a page with angry protests made by readers.
Yes, there is a hint of sarcasm there. Reading the local newspaper of Östersund always evokes mixed feelings. On the one hand I'm appalled at the things that people here find to get enraged about, on the other hand I'm relieved that a place like this will never have to grapple with the type of things that people in Libya, Egypt, Congo, and many other places, have to deal with on a daily basis. I have never lived in any of these places. My biggest concerns have been the size of my hydro bill, my student loans and the buses going on strike in Vancouver. My perspective is very different from that of a woman living in Congo for example. It's easy to overract to minor problems when you're used to high standards. Still, I consider it a high class problem to complain about milk cartoons and not being served a fresh salad buffet at local elementary schools because of the parasite in the water. The kids didn't get their usual salad buffet because it wasn't possible to rinse the vegetables in the tap water. They still got vegetables, just not fresh lettuce.
It's necessary to add here that kids in Sweden don't need to pay for their food in school. It's already been paid for in taxes.
Meanwhile in the town of Östersund, the inhabitants are faced with their own crisis - the local dairy company changed the design of the milk cartoons, making it more difficult to open. Local newspaper features a page with angry protests made by readers.
Yes, there is a hint of sarcasm there. Reading the local newspaper of Östersund always evokes mixed feelings. On the one hand I'm appalled at the things that people here find to get enraged about, on the other hand I'm relieved that a place like this will never have to grapple with the type of things that people in Libya, Egypt, Congo, and many other places, have to deal with on a daily basis. I have never lived in any of these places. My biggest concerns have been the size of my hydro bill, my student loans and the buses going on strike in Vancouver. My perspective is very different from that of a woman living in Congo for example. It's easy to overract to minor problems when you're used to high standards. Still, I consider it a high class problem to complain about milk cartoons and not being served a fresh salad buffet at local elementary schools because of the parasite in the water. The kids didn't get their usual salad buffet because it wasn't possible to rinse the vegetables in the tap water. They still got vegetables, just not fresh lettuce.
It's necessary to add here that kids in Sweden don't need to pay for their food in school. It's already been paid for in taxes.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Confessions of the uncool
There are a number of reasons why I will never be referred to as cool or highly cultured.
1. I still get shivers when Daniel san beats Johnny at the end of Karate Kid.
2. I still cry when I watch Bobby Ewing dies after being hit by a car.
3. I like Dolly Parton and especially "Working 9 to 5".
4. I talk to my wall calendar of dogs.
5. I get the inclination to skip when I'm outside, although I mostly refrain from it.
6. I still love the Golden Girls.
7. I think fashion is for drones.
8. I can find daytime drama dialogue moving and sometimes even profound.
9. I still get a kick out of the old Nintendo video games like "Paperboy" and "Popeye".
10. I like dramatic songs and gestures and romance, ala Celine Dion and her performance of "My Heart Will Go On" at the Oscars. It should be added that I tired of that particular song a long time ago but that doesn't mean I find Celine's stage manneurisms corny. As long as a person is being sincere, and I do believe that she mentioned in an interview that this comes natural to her when she performs, you should respect that. This goes not only for Celine but for everyone and everything in all areas of life. We shouldn't be so jaded and cynical.
Do I care whether or not I'm cool? No, not really.
1. I still get shivers when Daniel san beats Johnny at the end of Karate Kid.
2. I still cry when I watch Bobby Ewing dies after being hit by a car.
3. I like Dolly Parton and especially "Working 9 to 5".
4. I talk to my wall calendar of dogs.
5. I get the inclination to skip when I'm outside, although I mostly refrain from it.
6. I still love the Golden Girls.
7. I think fashion is for drones.
8. I can find daytime drama dialogue moving and sometimes even profound.
9. I still get a kick out of the old Nintendo video games like "Paperboy" and "Popeye".
10. I like dramatic songs and gestures and romance, ala Celine Dion and her performance of "My Heart Will Go On" at the Oscars. It should be added that I tired of that particular song a long time ago but that doesn't mean I find Celine's stage manneurisms corny. As long as a person is being sincere, and I do believe that she mentioned in an interview that this comes natural to her when she performs, you should respect that. This goes not only for Celine but for everyone and everything in all areas of life. We shouldn't be so jaded and cynical.
Do I care whether or not I'm cool? No, not really.
Monday, February 21, 2011
My philopsophy when it comes to commercials
If a commercial is on too much and if it contains a very annoying and repetitive tune then I will deliberately not buy the product. I know it's silly but it feels somewhat like a form small of punishment for having a terrible commercial. I don't appreciate their blatant attempt at trying to nestle their way into my subconscious by ramming their crappy signature tune down my throat, or into my ear, to be more exact.
Then there's that little delightful thing on my remote control called a mute button. I use it frequently.
I was at the grocery store a while ago and on the T.V screens that they now have above the cash registers, a particularly annoying whistling tune blared out for about the 500th time, and I vowed that if I ever heard it again I would be berserk in the store. My father, who I was with at the time, agreed with me. He hates it too. We're a very testy family. We were the only family on the block who'd call the cops or complain when the neighbours had loud parties at late hours.
Then there's that little delightful thing on my remote control called a mute button. I use it frequently.
I was at the grocery store a while ago and on the T.V screens that they now have above the cash registers, a particularly annoying whistling tune blared out for about the 500th time, and I vowed that if I ever heard it again I would be berserk in the store. My father, who I was with at the time, agreed with me. He hates it too. We're a very testy family. We were the only family on the block who'd call the cops or complain when the neighbours had loud parties at late hours.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Those paparazzis!
I was flipping the channels while sipping my tea just now and on a channel called Star! I came across a show about paparazzis and stars who live their lives on the edge.
I know it's all about the money for them, selling their pictures to the magazines, and I suppose money takes the place of dignity and self-respect. If I was 45 years old, I think I'd find it more than a little embarrassing to make my living driving after 20 year olds all day and hanging out outside their house in the hopes of taking a picture of them whiping their ass or blowing their nose. I wonder if the prospect of making a lot of money would make me forget all about pride. I can't imagine it. I know it's easy for me to sit here on my high horse and judge since I'm not in that situation, but I can't imagine that I'd be able to live with myself. Not because of the moral issue of harassing people and shove a camera in their face, although that's ridiculous as well, but because I'd find it incredibly pathetic if I spent my life doing this.
Can you imagine, day after day, taking candid pictures of total strangers doing mundane things such as eating salad leaves or carrying a cup of Starbucks coffee. I think I'd want to shoot myself if I had to do that. What's even worse is that verocity that these guys go after their prey. Driving around wildly in some jeep with a manic facial expression all day. Is it dollar signs in their eyes or just sheer obsession?
Moreover, this whole thing begs the question of why people are so interested in these nonsense snapshots of celebrities doing ordinary things. There wouldn't be paparazzis if there wasn't a market for this crap right. For some reason, people are fascinated with celebrities and that extends to seeing them perform even the most trivial tasks. I don't get it. When I was 16 I might have gotten it but not as an adult. I like Kiefer Sutherland but that doesn't mean I want to see him coming out of a gym all sweaty or wearing sunglasses while having lunch in some restaurant. Nor would I be interested in seeing a blurry picture of Lindsay Lohan, or anyone else, driving by in a car.
Oooh...she's driving car! Look, there she goes driving down the street! OOOH...she's getting out to get a slurpee!!! Oh and look, there's Beyoncee coming out of her gym!!! She's all sweaty...oh...my...god...how sensational!
Bizarre!
I know it's all about the money for them, selling their pictures to the magazines, and I suppose money takes the place of dignity and self-respect. If I was 45 years old, I think I'd find it more than a little embarrassing to make my living driving after 20 year olds all day and hanging out outside their house in the hopes of taking a picture of them whiping their ass or blowing their nose. I wonder if the prospect of making a lot of money would make me forget all about pride. I can't imagine it. I know it's easy for me to sit here on my high horse and judge since I'm not in that situation, but I can't imagine that I'd be able to live with myself. Not because of the moral issue of harassing people and shove a camera in their face, although that's ridiculous as well, but because I'd find it incredibly pathetic if I spent my life doing this.
Can you imagine, day after day, taking candid pictures of total strangers doing mundane things such as eating salad leaves or carrying a cup of Starbucks coffee. I think I'd want to shoot myself if I had to do that. What's even worse is that verocity that these guys go after their prey. Driving around wildly in some jeep with a manic facial expression all day. Is it dollar signs in their eyes or just sheer obsession?
Moreover, this whole thing begs the question of why people are so interested in these nonsense snapshots of celebrities doing ordinary things. There wouldn't be paparazzis if there wasn't a market for this crap right. For some reason, people are fascinated with celebrities and that extends to seeing them perform even the most trivial tasks. I don't get it. When I was 16 I might have gotten it but not as an adult. I like Kiefer Sutherland but that doesn't mean I want to see him coming out of a gym all sweaty or wearing sunglasses while having lunch in some restaurant. Nor would I be interested in seeing a blurry picture of Lindsay Lohan, or anyone else, driving by in a car.
Oooh...she's driving car! Look, there she goes driving down the street! OOOH...she's getting out to get a slurpee!!! Oh and look, there's Beyoncee coming out of her gym!!! She's all sweaty...oh...my...god...how sensational!
Bizarre!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
It's later this evening and my mood just took a nose dive again
I just came back from teaching a course. When we were leaving, one of my students came up to me and looked at my belly and sort of touched it, and asked me quietly if there was a blessed events in the works. In other other words, she asked me if I was pregnant!
I have put on some weight lately, but it never ocurred to me that it was that visible. We're not talking that much weight gain. Although my stomach has felt bloated lately, why I don't know, but it could have something to do with all the chocolate I've been eating lately.
This was the cherry on the top of the cake of my day.
I have put on some weight lately, but it never ocurred to me that it was that visible. We're not talking that much weight gain. Although my stomach has felt bloated lately, why I don't know, but it could have something to do with all the chocolate I've been eating lately.
This was the cherry on the top of the cake of my day.
Ms. Crabapple
That's me at the moment. During the day I was rather sluggish and a little bit irritable but after my workout I suddenly became really agitated. I had to rush the workout so I pushed myself, that might be the reason. Perhaps I'm simply fatigued.
Then the neighbours downstairs start making noise again. This time they're slamming their balcony door and shouting on their balcony, as if someone was having a gigantic argument. This was not the case here though. What he have here is simply a case of numbskulls who don't have enough sense to be considerate towards their neighbours.
Noisy neighbours is one of my pet peeves. I have zero patience with them. I don't want to hear their lousy music or their shouting and slamming doors. I want them to consider that they are living in an apartment building and not a hut in the forest. Is this really that hard to keep in mind? Even such pea brains as the people downstairs must be able to grasp this relatively simple concept. Alas, they don't.
It doesn't matter if it's the middle of the day or midnight, you play your music at a level where your neighbours can't hear it. That's just all there is to it. If that's not a rule, it ought to be. I don't care if they need to blast it in order to enjoy it properly, that's not my problem. My problem is that I can hear it in my apartment.
If this makes me a pissy bitch, so be it. If it makes me a square old lady, so be it. When it comes to this, I guess I shall just have to be a pissy bitch and a square old lady.
The neighbours are not the only reason for my irritation at the moment though. It's not PMS or anything in particular, it's just plain, unidentified anger.
I hope my mood will lift later in the evening.
Then the neighbours downstairs start making noise again. This time they're slamming their balcony door and shouting on their balcony, as if someone was having a gigantic argument. This was not the case here though. What he have here is simply a case of numbskulls who don't have enough sense to be considerate towards their neighbours.
Noisy neighbours is one of my pet peeves. I have zero patience with them. I don't want to hear their lousy music or their shouting and slamming doors. I want them to consider that they are living in an apartment building and not a hut in the forest. Is this really that hard to keep in mind? Even such pea brains as the people downstairs must be able to grasp this relatively simple concept. Alas, they don't.
It doesn't matter if it's the middle of the day or midnight, you play your music at a level where your neighbours can't hear it. That's just all there is to it. If that's not a rule, it ought to be. I don't care if they need to blast it in order to enjoy it properly, that's not my problem. My problem is that I can hear it in my apartment.
If this makes me a pissy bitch, so be it. If it makes me a square old lady, so be it. When it comes to this, I guess I shall just have to be a pissy bitch and a square old lady.
The neighbours are not the only reason for my irritation at the moment though. It's not PMS or anything in particular, it's just plain, unidentified anger.
I hope my mood will lift later in the evening.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Happy Valentines Day!
I found a red rose in the middle of the road on my down to an interpretation assingment today. It was frozen solid but apart from that it was in almost perfect condition. Somebody must have dropped it there. Odd place to drop it.
I picked it up and brought it with me to my assignment. People probably thought it was a rose that had been given to. I wonder if people thought it odd that I had picked it up from the road. Is that an odd thing to do? I don't think so. I'm a sucker for roses, and I somehow think that they're living things and it seemed ashamed to just let it lay there and freeze.
It's soaking in warm water in my sink, and we'll see if it's beyond salvation or not. The poor thing looks pretty beaten up now. But, today is not the day to be giving up on symbols of love, so I should at least give it a shot.
Other than that, this day has been commemorated with a gift from Nick, which I didn't like, I'm ashamed to say. He went out and splurged and bought this rather overpriced eau de toilette called Pink Sugar. It's very sweet smelling, rather like vanilla. I wish I liked it but I don't really care for scents in general, especially not if they're sweet and strong. The only scent that I have continued to stand is White Musk. I have bought expensive perfumes over the years and even though I love them when I first get them I always tire of them after a little while I and then I can't even stand to smell them again. My nose stings and I associate the smell with events and settings from when I wore the scent and everytime I smell it it reminds me of that time, which is not always a good thing.
Anyway, this Pink Sugar is very sweet and sticky but I suppose I will wear it sometimes anyway, for Nick's sake. I would have been perfectly happy with chocolates though, but oh well. He meant well.
I picked it up and brought it with me to my assignment. People probably thought it was a rose that had been given to. I wonder if people thought it odd that I had picked it up from the road. Is that an odd thing to do? I don't think so. I'm a sucker for roses, and I somehow think that they're living things and it seemed ashamed to just let it lay there and freeze.
It's soaking in warm water in my sink, and we'll see if it's beyond salvation or not. The poor thing looks pretty beaten up now. But, today is not the day to be giving up on symbols of love, so I should at least give it a shot.
Other than that, this day has been commemorated with a gift from Nick, which I didn't like, I'm ashamed to say. He went out and splurged and bought this rather overpriced eau de toilette called Pink Sugar. It's very sweet smelling, rather like vanilla. I wish I liked it but I don't really care for scents in general, especially not if they're sweet and strong. The only scent that I have continued to stand is White Musk. I have bought expensive perfumes over the years and even though I love them when I first get them I always tire of them after a little while I and then I can't even stand to smell them again. My nose stings and I associate the smell with events and settings from when I wore the scent and everytime I smell it it reminds me of that time, which is not always a good thing.
Anyway, this Pink Sugar is very sweet and sticky but I suppose I will wear it sometimes anyway, for Nick's sake. I would have been perfectly happy with chocolates though, but oh well. He meant well.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Ode to Jaws
There have been many shark movies in the past 35 years, but there is only one true shark movie and that's the one that started it all - Jaws.
I'm watching it right now, and as always when I watch it I'm amazed at its brilliance.
No shark movie after it came near its brilliance. For me, there will only ever be one Jaws. The sequals, entertaining though they may be, especially number 3, don't travel in the same league. Not even close! Jaws is a piece of movie history. Steven Spielberg created something truly amazing. There has never been anything like it since. Other directors may try to assimilate Spielberg but they don't even come close
For me, this movie is like a part of my childhood. I didn't have very stereotypical parents. My dad was absent a lot because he was in the military and my mom let me watch horror movies from the time I was 7 years old. Jaws was our favourite. We almost constantly rented the Jaws movies. We had one of those old Beta video players. We were the first ones on the block to have a VCR and you could almost always find either Jaws 1 or Jaws 2 at our place. I loved Jaws, and I could never get enough of it. I could watch it over and over again, still can.
I could never bare to watch to the part where Quint gets eating inch by inch by the shark. First it's his feet that are in the shark's mouth, then his legs, then his waist and then his torso, until we only see his head with blood sipping out through the corners of his mouth while he screams in agony. I still can't watch that part and I never will. I also can't bare the part where Alex Kintner gets eaten. When I was a kid I wouldn't bare to hear his screams underwater because it made me feel like it was me being eaten. I still can't watch it. I don't like the actual attacks and the blood and dying, I just like the building up to the attacks and the way Spielberg created it. By hiding the shark from the audience and just allowing the audience to see things from the point of view of the shark he made all the more scarier.
It's not just the building up to the attacks though, it's everything about the movie, the music, the dialogue, the characters, everything is just perfect.
I just wish I had been able to watch it in the theaters when it first came out. I can imagine that watching it in a theatre would be amazing.
I'm watching it right now, and as always when I watch it I'm amazed at its brilliance.
No shark movie after it came near its brilliance. For me, there will only ever be one Jaws. The sequals, entertaining though they may be, especially number 3, don't travel in the same league. Not even close! Jaws is a piece of movie history. Steven Spielberg created something truly amazing. There has never been anything like it since. Other directors may try to assimilate Spielberg but they don't even come close
For me, this movie is like a part of my childhood. I didn't have very stereotypical parents. My dad was absent a lot because he was in the military and my mom let me watch horror movies from the time I was 7 years old. Jaws was our favourite. We almost constantly rented the Jaws movies. We had one of those old Beta video players. We were the first ones on the block to have a VCR and you could almost always find either Jaws 1 or Jaws 2 at our place. I loved Jaws, and I could never get enough of it. I could watch it over and over again, still can.
I could never bare to watch to the part where Quint gets eating inch by inch by the shark. First it's his feet that are in the shark's mouth, then his legs, then his waist and then his torso, until we only see his head with blood sipping out through the corners of his mouth while he screams in agony. I still can't watch that part and I never will. I also can't bare the part where Alex Kintner gets eaten. When I was a kid I wouldn't bare to hear his screams underwater because it made me feel like it was me being eaten. I still can't watch it. I don't like the actual attacks and the blood and dying, I just like the building up to the attacks and the way Spielberg created it. By hiding the shark from the audience and just allowing the audience to see things from the point of view of the shark he made all the more scarier.
It's not just the building up to the attacks though, it's everything about the movie, the music, the dialogue, the characters, everything is just perfect.
I just wish I had been able to watch it in the theaters when it first came out. I can imagine that watching it in a theatre would be amazing.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Scenes From a Mall
I've just watched one of my favourite movies, Scenes From a Mall. I was able to buy it thanks to Ebay. I haven't watched it in about 15 years so it was a real treat. I love Bette Midler and Woody Allen and together they're amazing. The only problem is that since sushi features pretty much all throughout the movie I now have this gigantic craving for tuna sashimi.
Sometimes we need to place our trust in the law, and sometimes not
Some girlfriends were over the other week and we got to talking about this incident that happened when we were kids. There was a flasher roaming our neighbourhood. He flashed himself in front of me and one of my friends. I must have been 7 or 8 at the time. At around the same time there was also a man in the same neighbourhood who liked to stalk women. My mom came across him one night, as he was stalking this young woman who had come running up to my dad begging him for help. Since this was shortly after I had been flashed my mom got it into her head that the stalker was also the flasher. She became enraged and rather than run away she told him that he would now lose the very body part that he liked to go around showing little girls. With those words she ran inside the house to get a large knife. Unfortunately the man had run off by the time she came back out. All I can say is, GO MOM!
Then my girlfriends and I got to talking about how to best handle an attack by an onknown assailant. I said that having your keys in your hand while you're walking is a good idea because then you can stab him with the key. I've heard about women doing this. They said that if you do that then you will be the one who gets into trouble, not him. This to me is outrageous! Someone attacks me and if I defend myself I get charged? I told Nick about this and he said that even if the guy attacks you and you harm him, he's hardly likely to press charges and even if he did, it would make him look quite the fool wouldn't it since he was the one who attacked me in the first place. Also, how would he find you if you are strangers to each other? Would he take out an ad in the newspaper?
"Attention! You who shoved your key in my forehead as I was attacking you on Main St. on Tuesday night, please come forward. I would like to press charges aganst you."
Attacker
No, it probably won't happen that way. Even if it did, it still wouldn't stop me from trying to inflict as much damage as possible if I were to be assaulted. No idiotic law is going to dictate how I defend myself if someone tries to harm me. It's the law of jungle. Eat or be eaten. I someone wishes to do me harm, you better believe I'm going to try to harm him back. If the law expects me to run with my tail between my legs, which would assure that the guy gets away and will be free to do this to somebody else, it's sadly mistaken. Now I don't know how I would react in a situation like this. I may run, or I may fight, who knows. One will never until one is in the kind of situation. I would like to think that I would fight with every fibre of my being. It's my body and my integrity and no law in the world is going to tell me that I can't defend myself. I would never unprovoked hurt another human being and I hate violence, but if someone attacks me then he has forfeited his right to be treated like a human being.
Then my girlfriends and I got to talking about how to best handle an attack by an onknown assailant. I said that having your keys in your hand while you're walking is a good idea because then you can stab him with the key. I've heard about women doing this. They said that if you do that then you will be the one who gets into trouble, not him. This to me is outrageous! Someone attacks me and if I defend myself I get charged? I told Nick about this and he said that even if the guy attacks you and you harm him, he's hardly likely to press charges and even if he did, it would make him look quite the fool wouldn't it since he was the one who attacked me in the first place. Also, how would he find you if you are strangers to each other? Would he take out an ad in the newspaper?
"Attention! You who shoved your key in my forehead as I was attacking you on Main St. on Tuesday night, please come forward. I would like to press charges aganst you."
Attacker
No, it probably won't happen that way. Even if it did, it still wouldn't stop me from trying to inflict as much damage as possible if I were to be assaulted. No idiotic law is going to dictate how I defend myself if someone tries to harm me. It's the law of jungle. Eat or be eaten. I someone wishes to do me harm, you better believe I'm going to try to harm him back. If the law expects me to run with my tail between my legs, which would assure that the guy gets away and will be free to do this to somebody else, it's sadly mistaken. Now I don't know how I would react in a situation like this. I may run, or I may fight, who knows. One will never until one is in the kind of situation. I would like to think that I would fight with every fibre of my being. It's my body and my integrity and no law in the world is going to tell me that I can't defend myself. I would never unprovoked hurt another human being and I hate violence, but if someone attacks me then he has forfeited his right to be treated like a human being.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Don't you just love friends who won't give you the time of day when they're in a relationship
Once I had a friend whom I loved to hang out with. She would always bitch to me about her best friend who had suddenly turned weird on her after she had found herself a boyfriend, and they never spent time together anymore. Then as she made up with her best friend it was adios amigo as far as I was concerned. I had been her bitch-friend for a few months, and someone to fill the void during her conflict with her best friend.
There are friends, and then there are friends. There are two different categories of them - true friends and friends who are just looking for company. The latter category, although they can temporarily be fun, aren't really worth much. Real friends aren't dependent upon their relationship status when it comes to how they treat their friends. They'll be your friend when they're single and will continue to be so even after they meet someone.
Ever heard of the expression "Fair-weather friend", who only wants to be your friend when your life is smooth and there are no complications? Well there's also the "Foul-weather" friend, who is only interested in being pals when their life is empty or crappy.
The "Foul-weather friend" wants to be your buddy and hang out when he/she has nothing else going on in his/her life, but will conveniently forget all about you when things pick up and who will seek out other friends then. Normally this expression is used for people who want to be friends when you're life is down the toilet but it can be used when the situation is reversed. You gotta love these people! Makes me feel kind of like a breeding mare who has served her purpose and can then be cast aside until the next time. Makes you doubt yourself too. Did I do something to offend this person? Was it something I said? Was I only good enough when she/he was lonely and suffering from a life crisis but not good enough to be with when things are great? You mull over it and wonder to yourself what it was and if there's anything you can do to change it. Perhaps a peppy email or a breezy phone call, saying that you just want to catch up, phrased as though nothing has changed, will do the trick? Some of the old jokes perhaps? The same old jargon...
"Hey, what's new. Long time no see! What ya been up to? Let's catch up sometime soon. See ya soon I hope! : )
P.S. I had gravel and milk for dinner tonight! ; )
There, that oughta do it! That was nice and casual right? Not intense or pushy in any way right? Nothing like the way you've been acting lately. Yeah, this oughta get things back on track. Show that you're not pissed or weird or anything.
A nice touch might be to add some inside joke at the end. Like a catchy P.S or something. Yeah that's a good idea.
Nothing's changed right?
Wrong.
Things have changed and you better roll with the punches.
Then as time goes by and you hear nothing or you get a distant demeanour in response to your attempts to stay in contact, you realize that this person is on the way out. Unfortunately it's a part of life and the best we can do is distinguish genuine friends from these "Foul-weather friends" and stay away from the latter. Or, don't allow yourself to develop any deeper sentiments for this person and just enjoy the ride while it lasts. People come and go and most of them will not stick around forever. That's how it works. We all fulfill a purpose in each other's lives, whether it's a permanent purpose or a temporary one depends on the person. Some people we will continue to need in our lives while others lose their luster once something or someone else comes along to. I can honestly say that I'm not the type to be inclined to cast friends aside once I meet someone or something new happens in my life. Sure, I might become busier and spend less time with friends, especially in the beginning stage of a relationship, but it's not in my nature to just drop them from my life completely.
The good thing for me is that I've become very good at letting people go gracefully these days. What's the point of trying to hang on to something that's a thing of the past? It's a waste of time. Once it's been made clear to you that they no longer desire to be friends, and you have made an attempt to stay in touch or to heal whatever went wrong, the best thing to do is to just let them go. Who needs these people anyway.
As a girl, I can understand why a guy might not be able to spend as much time with his female friends after he's met someone. I certainly wouldn't like it if Nick spent a lot of time with another woman. However I wouldn't expect him to break off all contact with all females that were in his life before me. He's free to correspond or do stuff with other women. I'd be weirded out if he started spending all his free time with another girl and that would of course present a problem but I do think that men and women should be able to be friends even when they're married or involved.
There are friends, and then there are friends. There are two different categories of them - true friends and friends who are just looking for company. The latter category, although they can temporarily be fun, aren't really worth much. Real friends aren't dependent upon their relationship status when it comes to how they treat their friends. They'll be your friend when they're single and will continue to be so even after they meet someone.
Ever heard of the expression "Fair-weather friend", who only wants to be your friend when your life is smooth and there are no complications? Well there's also the "Foul-weather" friend, who is only interested in being pals when their life is empty or crappy.
The "Foul-weather friend" wants to be your buddy and hang out when he/she has nothing else going on in his/her life, but will conveniently forget all about you when things pick up and who will seek out other friends then. Normally this expression is used for people who want to be friends when you're life is down the toilet but it can be used when the situation is reversed. You gotta love these people! Makes me feel kind of like a breeding mare who has served her purpose and can then be cast aside until the next time. Makes you doubt yourself too. Did I do something to offend this person? Was it something I said? Was I only good enough when she/he was lonely and suffering from a life crisis but not good enough to be with when things are great? You mull over it and wonder to yourself what it was and if there's anything you can do to change it. Perhaps a peppy email or a breezy phone call, saying that you just want to catch up, phrased as though nothing has changed, will do the trick? Some of the old jokes perhaps? The same old jargon...
"Hey, what's new. Long time no see! What ya been up to? Let's catch up sometime soon. See ya soon I hope! : )
P.S. I had gravel and milk for dinner tonight! ; )
There, that oughta do it! That was nice and casual right? Not intense or pushy in any way right? Nothing like the way you've been acting lately. Yeah, this oughta get things back on track. Show that you're not pissed or weird or anything.
A nice touch might be to add some inside joke at the end. Like a catchy P.S or something. Yeah that's a good idea.
Nothing's changed right?
Wrong.
Things have changed and you better roll with the punches.
Then as time goes by and you hear nothing or you get a distant demeanour in response to your attempts to stay in contact, you realize that this person is on the way out. Unfortunately it's a part of life and the best we can do is distinguish genuine friends from these "Foul-weather friends" and stay away from the latter. Or, don't allow yourself to develop any deeper sentiments for this person and just enjoy the ride while it lasts. People come and go and most of them will not stick around forever. That's how it works. We all fulfill a purpose in each other's lives, whether it's a permanent purpose or a temporary one depends on the person. Some people we will continue to need in our lives while others lose their luster once something or someone else comes along to. I can honestly say that I'm not the type to be inclined to cast friends aside once I meet someone or something new happens in my life. Sure, I might become busier and spend less time with friends, especially in the beginning stage of a relationship, but it's not in my nature to just drop them from my life completely.
The good thing for me is that I've become very good at letting people go gracefully these days. What's the point of trying to hang on to something that's a thing of the past? It's a waste of time. Once it's been made clear to you that they no longer desire to be friends, and you have made an attempt to stay in touch or to heal whatever went wrong, the best thing to do is to just let them go. Who needs these people anyway.
As a girl, I can understand why a guy might not be able to spend as much time with his female friends after he's met someone. I certainly wouldn't like it if Nick spent a lot of time with another woman. However I wouldn't expect him to break off all contact with all females that were in his life before me. He's free to correspond or do stuff with other women. I'd be weirded out if he started spending all his free time with another girl and that would of course present a problem but I do think that men and women should be able to be friends even when they're married or involved.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Lame-ass job offer and the trials of teaching ESL
In a crappy mood, for no particular reason really. It's not due to PMS or something like that. I don't know why this sudden irritation came over me. It has been a long and tedious day and I came home to a sink full of dishes and a big, black garbage bag full of dried food in the kitchen. Plastic bags are so ugly, particularly garbage bags.
Then I check my email and I read an offer to teach English classes in technical English at some company located miles from the city. We're talking technical instructions manuals here, at some company in the middle of nowhere.
Even if I did drive I wouldn't do it. I'm so sick at feeling like I have to take these lame job offers. I suppose I'm bitter because I still have to accept offers to tutor.
Well this one offer I did turn down. It would probably pay pretty well but there is no way I am travelling for 45 min to try and teach technical manuals to some factory employees. It'd be the blind leading the blind. And as always with these courses I don't get paid until after the course is finished, something that I am sick of.
For some reason, the smaller language schools here never bother to test student's language levels before placing them in an English class. I hate that. Yeah I get that these small schools are more informal and that their motto is that education should be for everyone regardless of their background and financial status. But that doesn't work with language courses. You can't just pile anyone who's interested in the same course and expect them to learn. I feel like a bitch sometimes these days because my patience is running pretty thin with this stuff. There have been too many times where the schools have formed classes consisting of a wide variety of levels, and then the students get snotty with me when they realize that the other students in the class are way too advanced for them, or vice versa. I take the flack for the schools' incompetence and if they want me to do that they better pay me more money.
One school once surprised me by admitting 13 students to a conversation class, and half the class was advanced and half was low. I wasn't even told of the newly added students. I just showed up to teach the class and they showed up and before you knew it I had 13 people in front of me who expected to learn something. We had to split the group up into two classes naturally. But if that happens again I'm going to go ballistic. I've now created the rule that they are not to add more than 10 students in a class, and if they do they have to find themselves another teacher. Conversation classes are supposed to be smaller, that's just plain logic. How are 13 people going to get a chance to speak much in 2 short hours?
It's bloody well time I grow a backbone and start speaking up. I always think that I don't have a say in anything and that I should just be grateful to get offered work but that's just not true. I have a lot of experience with this now and I do know what I'm talking about and I'm a person and not a machine, and I'm an adult too, not a kid, and I'm going to make it a point to protest if I feel like something is not right. If the result is that they find me difficult, so be it.
Not the biggest problems in the world, but right now I'm crabby and in the mood to vent.
Then I check my email and I read an offer to teach English classes in technical English at some company located miles from the city. We're talking technical instructions manuals here, at some company in the middle of nowhere.
Even if I did drive I wouldn't do it. I'm so sick at feeling like I have to take these lame job offers. I suppose I'm bitter because I still have to accept offers to tutor.
Well this one offer I did turn down. It would probably pay pretty well but there is no way I am travelling for 45 min to try and teach technical manuals to some factory employees. It'd be the blind leading the blind. And as always with these courses I don't get paid until after the course is finished, something that I am sick of.
For some reason, the smaller language schools here never bother to test student's language levels before placing them in an English class. I hate that. Yeah I get that these small schools are more informal and that their motto is that education should be for everyone regardless of their background and financial status. But that doesn't work with language courses. You can't just pile anyone who's interested in the same course and expect them to learn. I feel like a bitch sometimes these days because my patience is running pretty thin with this stuff. There have been too many times where the schools have formed classes consisting of a wide variety of levels, and then the students get snotty with me when they realize that the other students in the class are way too advanced for them, or vice versa. I take the flack for the schools' incompetence and if they want me to do that they better pay me more money.
One school once surprised me by admitting 13 students to a conversation class, and half the class was advanced and half was low. I wasn't even told of the newly added students. I just showed up to teach the class and they showed up and before you knew it I had 13 people in front of me who expected to learn something. We had to split the group up into two classes naturally. But if that happens again I'm going to go ballistic. I've now created the rule that they are not to add more than 10 students in a class, and if they do they have to find themselves another teacher. Conversation classes are supposed to be smaller, that's just plain logic. How are 13 people going to get a chance to speak much in 2 short hours?
It's bloody well time I grow a backbone and start speaking up. I always think that I don't have a say in anything and that I should just be grateful to get offered work but that's just not true. I have a lot of experience with this now and I do know what I'm talking about and I'm a person and not a machine, and I'm an adult too, not a kid, and I'm going to make it a point to protest if I feel like something is not right. If the result is that they find me difficult, so be it.
Not the biggest problems in the world, but right now I'm crabby and in the mood to vent.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
The best comic in the world
The coolest comic, Lilla Fridolf. Most of the time, I have read it while laying on my bed eating candy. Now it has become my reading material in the washroom, although that doesn't mean I like it any less. It's a real shame that this comic has changed beyond recognition since a new writer took over after the old one passed away. A new illustrator also replaced the old one, changing the look of the characters to the point where I don't even want to read the comic anymore. That's normal though since no comic can last forever. I consider Lilla Fridolf no longer printed. It's a comic of the past and they should just let it rest in peace and not continue to soil its good name. I will always cherish the old comics though and I will gladly search through flea markets to try to find any old issues that I don't already have. It's rare to come across them so when I do I get almost ridiculously happy. I look like a racoon searching through a garbage can when I rifle through piles of old comic books. When I come across a Lilla Fridolf I almost gasp out loud. "WOW!"
That happened yesterday when I visited the flea market downtown, which I do every now and then just to see if they have gotten in any Lilla Fridolf. They rarely ever do. This time they did! I was ecstatic. I was able to find over 10 issues. Unfortunately I only had cash for 6 but the guy let me have 8 for the price of 6. I guess he could see the desperation in my eyes as I stood there with the comic books in front of me, searching through my wallet for any coins that might have hidden in the corners.
So now I have a new stack of comics, some of which I have never read before, so it's a real treat.
There is something so comforting about old comics. They're so safe. They conjure up images of childhood and bright colours and imaginary worlds.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
21-year old me
I just watched an old home video of a birthday party that took place when I was 21.
Watching myself on video was as always a self-conscious, embarrassing affair.
Frizzy dark hair that hung in disorganized curls around my face. Round, bulging face with thin lips and prodtruding teeth. Hovering around the punch bowl, sipping the welcome drink with the delight and curiosity of a kid who's just been allowed to have alcohol for the first time.
Conservative light blue skirt suit that I had bought inspired by Jackie Kennedy. Shoulder pads that made me look larger than I really was.
When this video was shot I had had virtually no life experience. I remember being so idealistic and naive. I reckon that I was also regarded as something of a freak because I was living at home and had still not had a boyfriend, had not even dated, and didn't have a job or any prospects for the future. I didn't have a life. I was living inside my head, always captivated by some celebrity. For several years it was Elvis, then it was JFK jr, then for a very brief time it was Bryan Adams. This was how I survived. Reality was so boring that I had to obsess about something in order to just get through the day. With Elvis it was more though. I still love Elvis, just not in such an obsessive way as back then.
Idealistic youth. This was when I still believed that everyone I met really was nice and when I thought that everything was about me. I didn't need to go to any effort with people because it was enough to just show up and be me. I could see that in the video. My social skills sucked ass and to top it off I was kind of a snob. I don't proclaim to be perfect in the present but at least I'm not as bad as I was back then.
This was before I had been in a relationship and therefore still held the belief that love was like in the movies and there would be a prince charming out there somewhere waiting for me.
15 months later I went to Canada for the first time, and the rest is history.
I find myself wondering how much I've really changed since that video was filmed. Do I still look like that? We always think we look better now compared to in the past but that's not always true. We just don't want to admit that we really look like that. Given that this was 15 years ago I would assume that my face has changed somewhat.
Personality wise I would say I am more polished and more cynical. Not that I'm a polished person, but compared to 21-year old me I am. There weren't very many places to go but up on that score.
Then there were the relatives and friends in the video who have passed away since this birthday party. It was particularly sad to see the grandparents. Seeing my grandpa with his large, black glasses that were always kind of crooked on his thin face. His thin hair which was always unruly and that I always liked to pull to tease him.
So, was it better to have gotten out and experienced life even though the experiences I would soon come to have could hardly be described as positive?
Or would it have been better to stay in my hometown? God knows when I would have moved out of my parent's place and gotten a job. I might still be living with them. Or maybe I would have eventually conformed and found myself an office job and a local, down-to-earth boyfriend whom I would have moved in with. I refused to conform, which is why I was still living at home and not working, apart from office cleaning two nights a week.
I suppose what happened was meant to be. Life is never smooth. We are all bound to have bad experiences. That's how we grow. Cocooning in my childhood room forever and avoiding any unpleasant experiences with the real world versus heading out there and facing hard times? Clearly I would still choose the latter despite knowing what I do now, I would have just made different choices that's all. Living at home at 21 and living in a fantasy world had its comfortable aspects yet I remember lots of moments of tears and loneliness, thinking I'd be alone forever.
Some things I've learned is that the whole does not revolve around me and not all people have good intentions. I think I've become better at distinguishing the rotten apples from the good ones.
Anyway, I sure hope I've changed some since then. Sometimes I worry that I have come full circle and am right back where I started without any progress. I know this isn't the case but living here plays tricks with my mind. It's almost like living in the Twilight Zone.
Watching myself on video was as always a self-conscious, embarrassing affair.
Frizzy dark hair that hung in disorganized curls around my face. Round, bulging face with thin lips and prodtruding teeth. Hovering around the punch bowl, sipping the welcome drink with the delight and curiosity of a kid who's just been allowed to have alcohol for the first time.
Conservative light blue skirt suit that I had bought inspired by Jackie Kennedy. Shoulder pads that made me look larger than I really was.
When this video was shot I had had virtually no life experience. I remember being so idealistic and naive. I reckon that I was also regarded as something of a freak because I was living at home and had still not had a boyfriend, had not even dated, and didn't have a job or any prospects for the future. I didn't have a life. I was living inside my head, always captivated by some celebrity. For several years it was Elvis, then it was JFK jr, then for a very brief time it was Bryan Adams. This was how I survived. Reality was so boring that I had to obsess about something in order to just get through the day. With Elvis it was more though. I still love Elvis, just not in such an obsessive way as back then.
Idealistic youth. This was when I still believed that everyone I met really was nice and when I thought that everything was about me. I didn't need to go to any effort with people because it was enough to just show up and be me. I could see that in the video. My social skills sucked ass and to top it off I was kind of a snob. I don't proclaim to be perfect in the present but at least I'm not as bad as I was back then.
This was before I had been in a relationship and therefore still held the belief that love was like in the movies and there would be a prince charming out there somewhere waiting for me.
15 months later I went to Canada for the first time, and the rest is history.
I find myself wondering how much I've really changed since that video was filmed. Do I still look like that? We always think we look better now compared to in the past but that's not always true. We just don't want to admit that we really look like that. Given that this was 15 years ago I would assume that my face has changed somewhat.
Personality wise I would say I am more polished and more cynical. Not that I'm a polished person, but compared to 21-year old me I am. There weren't very many places to go but up on that score.
Then there were the relatives and friends in the video who have passed away since this birthday party. It was particularly sad to see the grandparents. Seeing my grandpa with his large, black glasses that were always kind of crooked on his thin face. His thin hair which was always unruly and that I always liked to pull to tease him.
So, was it better to have gotten out and experienced life even though the experiences I would soon come to have could hardly be described as positive?
Or would it have been better to stay in my hometown? God knows when I would have moved out of my parent's place and gotten a job. I might still be living with them. Or maybe I would have eventually conformed and found myself an office job and a local, down-to-earth boyfriend whom I would have moved in with. I refused to conform, which is why I was still living at home and not working, apart from office cleaning two nights a week.
I suppose what happened was meant to be. Life is never smooth. We are all bound to have bad experiences. That's how we grow. Cocooning in my childhood room forever and avoiding any unpleasant experiences with the real world versus heading out there and facing hard times? Clearly I would still choose the latter despite knowing what I do now, I would have just made different choices that's all. Living at home at 21 and living in a fantasy world had its comfortable aspects yet I remember lots of moments of tears and loneliness, thinking I'd be alone forever.
Some things I've learned is that the whole does not revolve around me and not all people have good intentions. I think I've become better at distinguishing the rotten apples from the good ones.
Anyway, I sure hope I've changed some since then. Sometimes I worry that I have come full circle and am right back where I started without any progress. I know this isn't the case but living here plays tricks with my mind. It's almost like living in the Twilight Zone.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Not succeeding
Can't seem to lay off the sweets. I have gone to the gym twice this week and am planning either gym or skiing tomorrow, but I have not been able to stay away from the good stuff. Last night I drank beer and ate olives and pretzels. Today I bought some mixed candy. I also made scones for breakfast, which were out of this world.
Now I'm cooking a fairly healthy dinner. Starchy yet healthy, although considering the fact that the Greek style potatoes that are currently roasting in the oven caused my eyes to sting when I opened the oven to check on the food, we might be having this meal without potatoes. I have never cooked with mustard powder before and this recipe requires mustard powder. It had no scent in the jar but I suppose the strength of it comes out when it gets heated up, because the whole joint reeks of something similar to horseradish. My eyes are stinging now and I'm sitting in the livingroom and the oven is closed.
Fortunately the veggies are roasting in a separate dish so they should still be edible. We might just have the chicken and veggies only and chuck the potatoes, unfortunately. Domestic Goddess, my ass! I am no domestic goddess. However I do try. Tonight I am attempting pan fried chicken breast stuffed with fresh mozzarella and smoked turkey. We'll see. I'm not great at cooking meat. Those scones this morning were a complete success but give me a hunk of meat to cook and I tend to fail miserably. I made a moose stew the other night and even though the meat simmered for an hour and a half it was still tough and dry.
Let's hope this chicken thing I am trying tonight will at least be edible.
Now I'm cooking a fairly healthy dinner. Starchy yet healthy, although considering the fact that the Greek style potatoes that are currently roasting in the oven caused my eyes to sting when I opened the oven to check on the food, we might be having this meal without potatoes. I have never cooked with mustard powder before and this recipe requires mustard powder. It had no scent in the jar but I suppose the strength of it comes out when it gets heated up, because the whole joint reeks of something similar to horseradish. My eyes are stinging now and I'm sitting in the livingroom and the oven is closed.
Fortunately the veggies are roasting in a separate dish so they should still be edible. We might just have the chicken and veggies only and chuck the potatoes, unfortunately. Domestic Goddess, my ass! I am no domestic goddess. However I do try. Tonight I am attempting pan fried chicken breast stuffed with fresh mozzarella and smoked turkey. We'll see. I'm not great at cooking meat. Those scones this morning were a complete success but give me a hunk of meat to cook and I tend to fail miserably. I made a moose stew the other night and even though the meat simmered for an hour and a half it was still tough and dry.
Let's hope this chicken thing I am trying tonight will at least be edible.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Things are a bit out of hand at the moment
I'm feeling about jumbled up in my thoughts at the moment. My mind is all over the place and my eating habit are atrocious. Fortunately this week I have been doing well when it comes to teaching, somehow.
I woke up around 3:00am this morning, needing to use the washroom. As I got up I felt bloated and unhealthy. I started thinking about my health and how in the past few months I have gained around 7 lbs. I just cannot seem to get back into the habit of going to the gym 3 days a week and curbing my craving for chocolate. I crave it all the time. Every day. To top it off, right now I am going through an extreme lethargic period when it comes to cooking. Rather than spend some time preparing a healthy meal, we've been hitting the fast food restaurants.
This stops today.
Not only am I going to the gym today but I am making a serious attempt to quit eating chocolate and I am making a moose stew with loads of veggies and chickpeas for dinner, served with wild rice. I am going to eat a smaller amount, because I think, I know, that this is the key to losing weight. Going on a diet is useless and just plain masochistic. I remember all too well the days when I used to go on a diets. When I was 18 I got up to 165 lbs at one point. Sure it's not as though I was obese, but it's still too much for someone who's 5 foot 6 inches.
I lost 22 lbs in one month, but I did it the unhealthy way. I basically starved myself. I ate a lot of vegetables yes, but a plate of chopped up tomato and cucumber is hardly a meal. And there were days when I would only drink protein shakes. The day after I would binge like there was no tomorrow. The beginning of an eating disorder. Fortunately it didn't go that far.
Anyway what I am trying to strive for now is that equilibrium that I had back in my university days. I was happier and more fulfilled and I worked out regularly without fail. Because Nick worked evenings all the time I ate dinner on my own most days, and when you eat alone you're not picky. A bowl of soup and a sandwich would suffice for dinner. Now I can't only think of myself. Nick has to eat too, and he's not happy with a bowl of soup or a plate of veggies. I suppose I should serve it anyway, and let him make his own food, but if I do I know he will fry up some unhealthy crap that I don't want him to eat.
Anyway, screw the fast food places and bring on the home cooking. I have to make time for the gym somehow. I've been working out once or twice a week lately, which would be alright if it wasn't for all that chocolate and potato chips I tend to scarf down in the evening.
So I suppose I will make an honest effort to get my act together.
If I don't blog about it again, it'll be because I failed in my attempts.
I woke up around 3:00am this morning, needing to use the washroom. As I got up I felt bloated and unhealthy. I started thinking about my health and how in the past few months I have gained around 7 lbs. I just cannot seem to get back into the habit of going to the gym 3 days a week and curbing my craving for chocolate. I crave it all the time. Every day. To top it off, right now I am going through an extreme lethargic period when it comes to cooking. Rather than spend some time preparing a healthy meal, we've been hitting the fast food restaurants.
This stops today.
Not only am I going to the gym today but I am making a serious attempt to quit eating chocolate and I am making a moose stew with loads of veggies and chickpeas for dinner, served with wild rice. I am going to eat a smaller amount, because I think, I know, that this is the key to losing weight. Going on a diet is useless and just plain masochistic. I remember all too well the days when I used to go on a diets. When I was 18 I got up to 165 lbs at one point. Sure it's not as though I was obese, but it's still too much for someone who's 5 foot 6 inches.
I lost 22 lbs in one month, but I did it the unhealthy way. I basically starved myself. I ate a lot of vegetables yes, but a plate of chopped up tomato and cucumber is hardly a meal. And there were days when I would only drink protein shakes. The day after I would binge like there was no tomorrow. The beginning of an eating disorder. Fortunately it didn't go that far.
Anyway what I am trying to strive for now is that equilibrium that I had back in my university days. I was happier and more fulfilled and I worked out regularly without fail. Because Nick worked evenings all the time I ate dinner on my own most days, and when you eat alone you're not picky. A bowl of soup and a sandwich would suffice for dinner. Now I can't only think of myself. Nick has to eat too, and he's not happy with a bowl of soup or a plate of veggies. I suppose I should serve it anyway, and let him make his own food, but if I do I know he will fry up some unhealthy crap that I don't want him to eat.
Anyway, screw the fast food places and bring on the home cooking. I have to make time for the gym somehow. I've been working out once or twice a week lately, which would be alright if it wasn't for all that chocolate and potato chips I tend to scarf down in the evening.
So I suppose I will make an honest effort to get my act together.
If I don't blog about it again, it'll be because I failed in my attempts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)