Sunday, December 16, 2012
I must be coming down with something...
...because all I want to do is eat warm food and have someone bring me tea. And then cuddle with me, because I am needy and emotional.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
I shall call him...Destructor
I discovered a hole in the centre of the quilt on my bed, complete with little tufts of batting floofed out 0n the surrounding blocks. I'm not currently pointing a finger, but if I were, it would be pointed at Paku. My Skinny-Bee, my Ping-ping, my destructive terror who hides behind a mask of timid adorability. God damn, skinny cat.
Luckily, the quilt is not one of my ultra-favourites. It has sentimental value, yes, as it is the quilt I pieced in my last year in Japan, and is made of a mix of fabrics (a stack of fat quarters I bought in Stratford, fabrics I bought at the Yuzawaya in Tachikawa, sheets from my single bed at the Gaijin House), but it is not a quilt I look at and think, "That is totally my style." My style has changed so much in almost five years, and I can't imagine making a quilt like this one again.
Still, I should have remembered the cats had it in for this quilt. One time, when I was still quilting it, Rodney peed on it when I put it down to make supper. Of course he chose one of the dark red sections, and the colour ran. I had to wash it right away, even though only the very centre of it was quilted. I think I locked him out on the balcony for a while so that I wouldn't accidentally kick him to death.*
Anywhoodle, they are now curled up at the end of the bed, propped up against my feet. You'd think they never had any thoughts toward this quilt other than it being a cherished resting place. Jerks.
*I would never kick either of them to death, accidentally or on purpose, no matter how often I threaten to murder them to death. Which is often.
Luckily, the quilt is not one of my ultra-favourites. It has sentimental value, yes, as it is the quilt I pieced in my last year in Japan, and is made of a mix of fabrics (a stack of fat quarters I bought in Stratford, fabrics I bought at the Yuzawaya in Tachikawa, sheets from my single bed at the Gaijin House), but it is not a quilt I look at and think, "That is totally my style." My style has changed so much in almost five years, and I can't imagine making a quilt like this one again.
Still, I should have remembered the cats had it in for this quilt. One time, when I was still quilting it, Rodney peed on it when I put it down to make supper. Of course he chose one of the dark red sections, and the colour ran. I had to wash it right away, even though only the very centre of it was quilted. I think I locked him out on the balcony for a while so that I wouldn't accidentally kick him to death.*
Anywhoodle, they are now curled up at the end of the bed, propped up against my feet. You'd think they never had any thoughts toward this quilt other than it being a cherished resting place. Jerks.
*I would never kick either of them to death, accidentally or on purpose, no matter how often I threaten to murder them to death. Which is often.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Crisp evenings
Welp, it's getting pretty crisp here in Faro. I pulled out a scarf and my Miss Marple hat for the walk over to the council meeting. The scarf matched my hair perfectly, while the pink hat looked a little odd. Hurray for not caring about what other people think!
Harold told me that he is using the quilt I gave him, and he loves it. When I first bought my fancy dancy sewing machine last year, I was too nervous to even take it out of the box for a month. I had never spent that much money on a household appliance before, and I was convinced I would break it. Harold was the one who pushed me into using it, and the quilt I gave him was the first one I made on that machine. It's not the best one I've made, but it was the first one, and it meant something to me.
I'm hearing lots of things from old friends - sad news, dissolving relationships, depression in its many awful faces. I can't physically reach out and take their hands or give them hugs, but my spirit is out there with Zen-hugs en masse. We're all in this together, on this blue-green rock in space. I love you all.
Harold told me that he is using the quilt I gave him, and he loves it. When I first bought my fancy dancy sewing machine last year, I was too nervous to even take it out of the box for a month. I had never spent that much money on a household appliance before, and I was convinced I would break it. Harold was the one who pushed me into using it, and the quilt I gave him was the first one I made on that machine. It's not the best one I've made, but it was the first one, and it meant something to me.
I'm hearing lots of things from old friends - sad news, dissolving relationships, depression in its many awful faces. I can't physically reach out and take their hands or give them hugs, but my spirit is out there with Zen-hugs en masse. We're all in this together, on this blue-green rock in space. I love you all.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Reflections
Long time, no talk. It's an ongoing theme here at Here Right Now.
Kara has a post up that has got me thinking. It's even distracted me from the episode of ST:Voyager I've been looking forward to all afternoon (Collective - in which we meet the adorable Borg children in Season 6).
I know I'm one of the friends she refers to in the middle of the post - I watch as friends and family almost seem to panic as soon as my weight approaches their own. They hop on the newest diet or exercise bandwagon to try and lose some weight. Part of me is happy for them, of course I want to see everyone successful in their own weight loss endeavors. But then part of me is pissed off. Why did they wait until my weight was almost on par with theirs? It makes me feel pretty crappy when it really shouldn't.
Okay, well except for the jumping on the newest diet or exercise bandwagon - unless eating nothing but cornbread is a new diet trick.
I don't know how to explain what I am feeling. All my feels are jumbled together, and it's hard to express them. But, in the interest of emotional breakthroughs, I'm going to try.
There is a part of me that is jealous of what Kara has achieved in the past year, but that jealousy stems from ... shame? Maybe shame is the right word in this case.
Kara has achieved so much, and it has not been easy. I have watched her struggle, but from the outside it looks easy. She has made a commitment to her health, to her emotional well-being, to her family, and it shines from her. Every time I see her, I am in awe.
The shame comes from deep within, from the part of me that says, "You haven't done anything like that, have you? You haven't put in the extreme effort that she has, of course you have no right to achieve what she has. You want it to happen without doing anything differently, when you know that is an impossibility. So sit on your couch and cry like a baby, because that's all you're entitled to at the moment."
It's not that I want to change the way I eat and race her to the finish line. It's that I am ashamed that I haven't done that - that I've let so many years go by, unhappy with myself, and I've done nothing. I don't want to let my bad feelings about myself hurt her progress in any way.
I am amazed by you, Kara. Every day, I'm amazed at how strong you are. Don't ever think that your success is not 1000% deserved, because it is.
So, now that I have those feels out in the open, I'm going to wash the dishes and get back to the Borg.
Kara has a post up that has got me thinking. It's even distracted me from the episode of ST:Voyager I've been looking forward to all afternoon (Collective - in which we meet the adorable Borg children in Season 6).
I know I'm one of the friends she refers to in the middle of the post - I watch as friends and family almost seem to panic as soon as my weight approaches their own. They hop on the newest diet or exercise bandwagon to try and lose some weight. Part of me is happy for them, of course I want to see everyone successful in their own weight loss endeavors. But then part of me is pissed off. Why did they wait until my weight was almost on par with theirs? It makes me feel pretty crappy when it really shouldn't.
Okay, well except for the jumping on the newest diet or exercise bandwagon - unless eating nothing but cornbread is a new diet trick.
I don't know how to explain what I am feeling. All my feels are jumbled together, and it's hard to express them. But, in the interest of emotional breakthroughs, I'm going to try.
There is a part of me that is jealous of what Kara has achieved in the past year, but that jealousy stems from ... shame? Maybe shame is the right word in this case.
Kara has achieved so much, and it has not been easy. I have watched her struggle, but from the outside it looks easy. She has made a commitment to her health, to her emotional well-being, to her family, and it shines from her. Every time I see her, I am in awe.
The shame comes from deep within, from the part of me that says, "You haven't done anything like that, have you? You haven't put in the extreme effort that she has, of course you have no right to achieve what she has. You want it to happen without doing anything differently, when you know that is an impossibility. So sit on your couch and cry like a baby, because that's all you're entitled to at the moment."
It's not that I want to change the way I eat and race her to the finish line. It's that I am ashamed that I haven't done that - that I've let so many years go by, unhappy with myself, and I've done nothing. I don't want to let my bad feelings about myself hurt her progress in any way.
I am amazed by you, Kara. Every day, I'm amazed at how strong you are. Don't ever think that your success is not 1000% deserved, because it is.
So, now that I have those feels out in the open, I'm going to wash the dishes and get back to the Borg.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Where she been at?
I started an entry a couple weeks ago, but didn't get to finish it (I may have been at work, possibly?), and figured it was just easier to start over.
It's been a long time since I wrote - during that time, I accepted that I was not providing the best home for Aki and surrendered him to the shelter in Whitehorse, said goodbye to my work as the minute-taker/scribe for a local group, and focused on getting myself back to a more even keel. For the most part, I'm there now.
I'm getting ready to head out to Ontario to celebrate my middlest sister's nuptials, and to work on cleaning out my old bedroom at my parents' place. That's going to be tough - even though I haven't needed/wanted anything that was there (with a few exceptions - Hamish Hamilton Book of Princesses, you are coming back to Faro with me, never fear!), I know that as soon as I sit down to go through the process of decluttering, I will be hit with massive waves of paralyzing nostalgia. Going to have to fight my way through it, I guess.
As I watch Rodney sleeping on a pile of laundry that's supposed to be in the machine, and listen to Pakuchi rustling around in the drapes, I'm feeling pretty good about life. I've got good pals, a great family, and some kickass projects waiting for me when I get back here.
Don't you worry about me.
It's been a long time since I wrote - during that time, I accepted that I was not providing the best home for Aki and surrendered him to the shelter in Whitehorse, said goodbye to my work as the minute-taker/scribe for a local group, and focused on getting myself back to a more even keel. For the most part, I'm there now.
I'm getting ready to head out to Ontario to celebrate my middlest sister's nuptials, and to work on cleaning out my old bedroom at my parents' place. That's going to be tough - even though I haven't needed/wanted anything that was there (with a few exceptions - Hamish Hamilton Book of Princesses, you are coming back to Faro with me, never fear!), I know that as soon as I sit down to go through the process of decluttering, I will be hit with massive waves of paralyzing nostalgia. Going to have to fight my way through it, I guess.
As I watch Rodney sleeping on a pile of laundry that's supposed to be in the machine, and listen to Pakuchi rustling around in the drapes, I'm feeling pretty good about life. I've got good pals, a great family, and some kickass projects waiting for me when I get back here.
Don't you worry about me.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Goodbye, Mr April
So, uh, I think I'm taking Aki to the Animal Shelter in Whitehorse tomorrow.
He's too much for me to handle - he's huge, he's dominant, and today he actually bit me (as opposed to the nips he has done before).
I'm conflicted and sad about this, but I think it's probably for the best all around.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
明けましておめでとう！
Akemashite omedetou! Happy New Year!
A new year dawns, complete with the promise of new blog entries, full of apologies about not writing ^_^
In looking back over the past year, I'm pretty grateful for all my experiences. It wasn't the worst year ever, it wasn't the best year ever, but everything I experienced has put me on the path to becoming a more awesome person.
I'm thankful for coming to terms with my depression. When I think of how many years I have been wandering around in a fog, I'm amazed that I made it out of bed every morning. Since beginning treatment in September, I have made great strides toward becoming a fully functioning member of society ^_^ Okay, maybe not great strides, but some little baby strides.
I'm glad I took Aki in. He's a handful, and when he destroys things I often wonder if he's worth it, but when he leans in so I can skritch his chest and lets out a big sigh, I know I did the right thing. Also, he gets me out walking, which helps with the whole "too depressed to exercise" thing.
I sold some quilts! Quilting has been a hobby for me for many years now, but it's never been something I thought I was good enough at to make any money. I love doing it, and am happiest when my quilts find a home where they are enjoyed, but to think that I can earn some of the material cost back is pretty awesome.
I have a great network of family and friends. My parents and sisters are awesomesauce, and I am looking forward to seeing them all in June for Hezz's wedding. My friends in Faro who look after me, my friends back in Ontario who remind me of my roots, and my friends overseas who remind me of who I have been and will be again...I wouldn't be myself without them.
But, this wouldn't be a proper New Year's Day post without some goals for 2012, so here they are:
1. Be furiously happy. I discovered this concept earlier this year via The Bloggess's presentation at Ignite Evo - this video right here. If this means taping pictures of velociraptors all over town, gluing rhinestones to my truck, or taking a half-day every Wednesday to play with the dog, I want to do it. My parking spot is marked with a "Beware of Velociraptor" sign, and it makes me smile every morning. Do ridiculously silly, stupid things.
2. Work harder at failing. This is self-explanatory to me - as much as I want to just be automatically good at new things, statistics show that there is a correlation between practice and perfection. Note - I am not interested in perfection, per se, but in proficiency. I know that I need to fail at things in order to become any good at them. (Right now, I'm thinking about the free-motion quilting aspects of my life, but I'm also signed up for archery at the Rec Centre on Thursday nights, and I'm just letting my fellow students know in advance - y'all should probably be standing behind me when I let the arrows loose - just sayin'...)
3. Forgive more. I know that I am carrying around baggage from years ago. Sometimes, it feels like I've been carrying things around for centuries. This year, I want to release more of those suitcases of guilt and anger and hurt feelings and hopelessness. I don't want to be bent under the weight of things I haven't faced and haven't forgiven. (This may require some wine, though. And chocolate. And Kleenex.)
4. Leave my main bad habits behind. This one doesn't need to be expanded on in public ^_^
5. [REDACTED] Sorry, this one is personal, too.
So, that's what 2012 had better shape up to be - furiously happy, full of failures, and free of past hurts. Woooo!
A new year dawns, complete with the promise of new blog entries, full of apologies about not writing ^_^
In looking back over the past year, I'm pretty grateful for all my experiences. It wasn't the worst year ever, it wasn't the best year ever, but everything I experienced has put me on the path to becoming a more awesome person.
I'm thankful for coming to terms with my depression. When I think of how many years I have been wandering around in a fog, I'm amazed that I made it out of bed every morning. Since beginning treatment in September, I have made great strides toward becoming a fully functioning member of society ^_^ Okay, maybe not great strides, but some little baby strides.
I'm glad I took Aki in. He's a handful, and when he destroys things I often wonder if he's worth it, but when he leans in so I can skritch his chest and lets out a big sigh, I know I did the right thing. Also, he gets me out walking, which helps with the whole "too depressed to exercise" thing.
I sold some quilts! Quilting has been a hobby for me for many years now, but it's never been something I thought I was good enough at to make any money. I love doing it, and am happiest when my quilts find a home where they are enjoyed, but to think that I can earn some of the material cost back is pretty awesome.
I have a great network of family and friends. My parents and sisters are awesomesauce, and I am looking forward to seeing them all in June for Hezz's wedding. My friends in Faro who look after me, my friends back in Ontario who remind me of my roots, and my friends overseas who remind me of who I have been and will be again...I wouldn't be myself without them.
But, this wouldn't be a proper New Year's Day post without some goals for 2012, so here they are:
1. Be furiously happy. I discovered this concept earlier this year via The Bloggess's presentation at Ignite Evo - this video right here. If this means taping pictures of velociraptors all over town, gluing rhinestones to my truck, or taking a half-day every Wednesday to play with the dog, I want to do it. My parking spot is marked with a "Beware of Velociraptor" sign, and it makes me smile every morning. Do ridiculously silly, stupid things.
2. Work harder at failing. This is self-explanatory to me - as much as I want to just be automatically good at new things, statistics show that there is a correlation between practice and perfection. Note - I am not interested in perfection, per se, but in proficiency. I know that I need to fail at things in order to become any good at them. (Right now, I'm thinking about the free-motion quilting aspects of my life, but I'm also signed up for archery at the Rec Centre on Thursday nights, and I'm just letting my fellow students know in advance - y'all should probably be standing behind me when I let the arrows loose - just sayin'...)
3. Forgive more. I know that I am carrying around baggage from years ago. Sometimes, it feels like I've been carrying things around for centuries. This year, I want to release more of those suitcases of guilt and anger and hurt feelings and hopelessness. I don't want to be bent under the weight of things I haven't faced and haven't forgiven. (This may require some wine, though. And chocolate. And Kleenex.)
4. Leave my main bad habits behind. This one doesn't need to be expanded on in public ^_^
5. [REDACTED] Sorry, this one is personal, too.
So, that's what 2012 had better shape up to be - furiously happy, full of failures, and free of past hurts. Woooo!
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