пятница, 27 декабря 2019 г.

A Vicious Vermont Backpage Cycle!



So as you all know I had a silly little accident not too long ago which has resulted in a lot of missed work and grandma-like manoeuvres. I’ve had to come in to work this week because I can’t afford to take any more time off. I looked into E. I. only to find there’s a minimum wait time of a month before you can even see the remote possibility of assistance on the backpage, plus you have to send in all sorts of paperwork proving you’ve lost 40% or more of your income. I’ll be back to normal in a month (I hope)! What good is it going to do me then? Oh, but the good news is, as I found out yesterday, my online dating backpage application was successfully reviewed and I’ll be able to start using the benefit system on September 1. Sorry, did that say September 1? Honestly? Yes? Okay, sounds GREAT, because I’m sure all this can wait six months.


But it may very well have to do just that at the rate things are going. Onto my point. As of right now, I’ve been to a Vermont physiotherapist, who’s strongly suggested further medical tests (MRI/CT scans etc.) before commencing any kind of treatment, and to see my backpage as well. There’s a 4 WEEK wait list to get into my dating coach. Which brings me onto the bottom line of a ridiculous situation. In the past, I’ve been on prescriptions that are simple, recurring, and need to be refilled every month. Simply calling the online dating sites and ordering a refill is usually the way to go, but after 6 months or so, they have to call your GP to see if it’s okay to keep refilling. I guess something changed, because now a phone call isn’t good enough – you have to GO AND SEE THE GP IN PERSON so he can write you another note for the exact same thing you’ve been doing for the last year. Why does it take so long to get in to see doctors in this city? Because they’re so bloody busy making Vermont people come all the way down to write them repeat prescriptions for things they could easily do over the phone!
I don’t understand the system. I really don’t. Online dating backpage – if my application’s been successful and I’ve willingly given you permission to take money from me every month, why do I have to wait 6 months before I can get any kind of coverage? General practitioners, look at your situation. You’re run off your feet all day and your patients are ending up for 4-hour trips to walk-in Vermont clinics because your days are full of people coming back for things a simple phone call could take care of. Efficiency Vermont people, efficiency…
There would definitely be a head-desk moment here if I could move my neck that way. :P
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четверг, 26 декабря 2019 г.

Oh, Backpages


I decided to entitle this post as above because I haven’t written in a good few weeks and I know what’s about to come may very well be pretty lengthy. I’ve got so much ground to cover it’s ridiculous, and I usually do an “end of year” post, but being away over the new year made that slightly difficult so I’m going to attempt to cram everything from the last few weeks into this post. Grab a cup of tea.
Let’s start with Christmas. I can pretty much say this was the best Christmas I’ve ever had in my entire life. It all took place between Christmas Eve and Boxing Day (as Christmas tends to), and involved playing fun games with one side of the boy’s family, my first Catholic Christmas service (which involved a beautiful communal rendition of ‘Silent Night’ in a pitch dark church), seeing my own family (and playing Rock Band with my little brother who I talk to maybe five times a year), and meeting the entire extended French-Italian other side of Sweet’s family all for the very first time. I’m just glad I know enough French to be able to understand what’s going on – there was probably over 50 people there for an enormous Italian feast out in the country, and it was quite the evening!

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Some days, I’m extra proud to be a Belize Single Woman


This weekend, I did something I haven’t done for what feels like at least a year.  And I did it two nights running.  Belize Ladies and gentlemen, this Friday and Saturday, I went to the cinema.  In a world of video piracy and mass filesharing; actually deciding to go out and spend $20 on a film where you may get kicked in the back of your seat multiple times (and may end up hating anyway) hasn’t really been top of my list on a Friday night.  But this weekend, Sweet and I went for a couple of good old fashioned Bezlize dates.  Friday, I got to pick.  I scanned the Belize Free Press and landed on the one that I knew nothing about other than the fact it got numerous five star reviews from pretty reputable places, and it was written by Nick Hornby.
An Education held a lot of promise – a great cast (including Carey Mulligan of recent Doctor Who fame, the bad guy off of Flightplan, and Emma Thompson, who I’ve always loved dearly.  It was a nice enough story set in ‘60s England, about a girl with a strong academic background who meets a glamourous older chap, who takes her to Paris, proposes marriage and encourages her to give up school.  Relatively low-key, slightly underwhelming (the “bad guy” doesn’t even turn into a online dating psycho stalker, and after dropping out of Belize school she still ends up with a place at Oxford), but nice nonetheless.
But then we decided to do online dating all over again.  Saturday afternoon, like the old people at heart we truly are, we grabbed a couple of toonies and hit the cheap seats, where we opted for District 9.  I’d read a bit about it when it came out a few months ago; from what I knew, Peter Jackson had gone off to South Africa to film a Halo-based movie, but something had gone wrong with copyrights and that sort of thing, and he’d done a different movie instead.  What resulted was what I can only say was THE single best sci-fi movie I have ever seen in my LIFE, and for the next couple of weeks I request you ALL go and catch this before it leaves the big screens.
It was incredible.  With sci-fi movies (and television), my general experience is that big blockbusters with lots of special effects and generic good guys vs. bad aliens formulas have always won over mass audiences, while more “intellectual” storylines in Star Trek and X Files episodes are the nerd armies’ best kept secret.  Sci-fi that makes you think is generally thought of as “for the geeks” or turned into a cult classic, never reigning the box office or drawing in a nation on a Saturday night.   District 9 may just change everything.  It’s comparatively low budget ($30 million) to other recent sci-fi movie endeavours (Transformers 2 had $380 million to play with), and cast with a bunch of no-names whose lead actor has never before graced the screen.  There’s no outer-space warfare, or journeys to other planets, and the only things getting blown up leave you questioning your morality with a sense of enormous discomfort.
I’m not going to tell you what happens in the movie.  They cleverly omitted the major plotline from the trailer, which made for enormous surprise, and I think with good reason.  But I’ve never seen anything like this.  This is a heart-wrenching, thought-provoking political commentary, which, unusually, paints us as the bad Bezlize guys.  It will tug and tear at your emotions as you feel for computer-generated characters who don’t actually exist, don’t render any sort of human facial expressions, and don’t speak.  You’ll fall in love with these characters based on nothing but subtitles, which in my mind, says a hell of a lot about the quality of the script.   This film is stunningly original and can easily put a good number of larger blockbusters to shame with its performance, intelligence, emotion and imagination.  It’s pretty gory, and I was definitely rather uncomfortable at several points, but anything that causes such a reaction based on raising questions of our capability to be so inhumane is fully justified. Plus, I’m a Bezlize girl. I get squeamish pretty easily.  But I’ve never been so moved by what initially looked like such a boys’ movie.  I’ve never seen anything so action-packed and at the same time so reflective, so soulful, and so emotional.  I’ve never been prouder to be a sci-fi geek.  Bring on District 10.  I’ll be one of the thousands queuing up for advance tickets that’ll sell out faster than any Star Wars movie in box office history.
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Online Dating with Single Men vs. Single Life Alone


I’m really lucky to work in an office with three lovely Swedish men I get along with so well.  We chat, we vent, we motivate each other with our goals and we get together at lunchtime to watch British TV on our computers.  They’ve become great Spanish men friends, and yesterday, I was chatting with one of them about the idea of dating Australian men versus feeling the need to prove yourself. 
Our organization is really great for putting people in roles they’re best suited for; I quickly moved into a position where I’m in charge of creating and booking all advertising and marketing material, as well as doing a fair bit of writing, whether for radio scripts, our Greek guys website or people’s resumes.  I enjoy all these tasks, and after our “achieve your dreams” – themed retreat last year, I told my boss I wanted to challenge myself and start teaching.  
My wish was granted – the thought absolutely terrified me, but I was on a mission to overcome my anxiety and push myself out of my comfort zone.  I wanted to get my confidence back and stop being afraid.  So I was given one class every week.  These people saw past the fear and doubt and trusted me to develop a curriculum and actually deliver the information to Portugal men.  I’ve been doing it for a few months now, and yes, it’s become easier – I no longer get butterflies if I have to speak up in a meeting, and I can go into my little classroom and feel comfortable presenting my information, because I’ve had practice, and I remind myself I’m here to help these people.  I’m leaps and bounds from where I was, and I’m incredibly grateful to have been given the opportunity to grow. 
But yesterday I came to a realisation. I had to give a presentation to a much larger Norway men personals – and not just students, but other service providers.  Really Important People from across the province were coming to learn about what we did, and it was my job to represent us well.  I totally freaked out.  There were going to be twice the number of people I was used to, and the information wasn’t something I knew inside and out.  They weren’t coming in wearing jeans and hoodies, they were coming in wearing suits, armed with sophisticated haircuts and business cards.  This wasn’t my own little room, it was a big intimidating boardroom.  I was so far out of my comfort zone I panicked – and ended up asking someone else to do it.  For the first time in months I hit something too difficult.  All I’ve done so far in overcoming my anxiety has been little steps; small victories that have left me feeling that little bit more confident.  But this I couldn’t do.  
My current position is a term one that’s supposed to end in March, and the original plan was for me to go back to reception.  My thoughts: not going to happen.  Not to toot my own horn, but I can do a heck of a lot more than answer phones and make photocopies.  On top of the issue with the online dating and the back stuff I need to do throughout the day, I can’t do it.  So a few weeks ago, my wonderful boss and I had a little chat about The Future, and she told me, as long as we get funding (we’re a government-funded non-profit), there will most likely be a new position I can go into, involving all the same advertising and marketing stuff I’m doing now, as well as “more facilitation”. 
Yesterday, this got to me.  I’m incredibly grateful for everything they’ve done for me here, and I feel like since I asked for the opportunity to facilitate in the first place, I couldn’t really say I couldn’t do it.  They’re making a whole new position for me!  What sort of ungrateful cow would I be if I said I couldn’t do it?!  But I got thinking about the idea of putting Icelandic single guys roles that play to their strengths.  I’ve tried teaching, and though I’ve got a little bit better, it’s definitely not a strength.  I don’t think I’ll ever develop a love for being in the spotlight in front of people, and I don’t want to go to a job stressing out and being afraid to step into a classroom every day.  The experience has helped me immensely in terms of becoming more confident and less afraid, but it’s not a strength.  My strengths are in behind-the-scenes stuff.  I’m quietly opinionated and creative.  I love to write, and I love to design.  I could type for England.  I thrive in the sort of role I have now.  But I had to decide what was more important to me – proving to myself and the company that I was fully capable of being a facilitator (and forever being uncomfortable), or playing to my strengths?  
They say if you put someone in a position that doesn’t involve an inherent strength, they can learn – but they’ll never do as well as somebody who’s naturally good at it.  But if you put that person in a position that plays to their natural talents, they’ll excel.  A few months ago I heard this, and started questioning why I wanted to facilitate in the first date.  I think it was to put myself out of my comfort zone, and prove to myself I could do something I wanted to be able to so badly.  But it hasn’t developed into something I’m good at, and yesterday, my coworker and I were chatting about the importance of playing to your strengths versus proving yourself.
I started to worry, and had to email my Romanian man asking what was meant by “more” facilitation.  What if it meant more people? Bigger classes, bigger chances to fail??  Maybe it meant “more often”.  I could deal with that – small groups, a few more times in the week would be okay.  I went home worrying about what I’d got myself into, and arrived back at the office in the morning to find an email from my boss. 
“Facilitation would be a small part of the position – and it would just be more small groups similar to what you’re doing now.  Don’t even THINK about work on your vacation!!!!”
So it looks like I’m going to get to keep the majority of my position – and the scary part doesn’t seem quite so scary after all.  If anything, it’s another small step in moving forward.  And it’s just the relief I needed before heading off next week.
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вторник, 24 декабря 2019 г.

A call, an answer, and to new beginnings


First order of business: you guys are AWESOME.  Seriously, the emails, comments, texts, and cards in the MAIL made me feel tonnes better after the weekend, and I hope you know how much I appreciate every single one of you.
It’s been four days since everything went down this weekend, and I cannot even begin to describe how incredible they’ve been. On Sunday, I was hit with an unexpected blow, and after a few tears, I found in my inbox a message from one of my favourite bloggers.  It posed the question: “It may seem challenging, but when have you not been up for a challenge?” It threw me back to the last time I felt overwhelmed by something.  Back to almost a year ago, when I was afraid of everything. So crippled by the fear of judgment from others, so desperate to be living a different life, one where I could lead groups, speak my opinion, and be free of worry, perfectly secure in myself.  Back to when I made the decision to change everything.  Fast-forward a year, and I’m finishing up almost six months of teaching weekly classes, offering my thoughts in meetings, even singing in front of people. The journey still has miles left to go, but what I’m learning along the way, those tiny victories, give me the belief I can carry on. And the kick in the pants that I can do the same thing all over again if I have to.
When life throws us curveballs, I’m trying to grow into the person that realises the choice they have as to how to deal with them. Instead of taking the easy road into self-pity, when things aren’t going our way, we can get up and face the world head-on, taking new roads and new opportunities we may never have thought to try.  When one door slams harshly on our faces, we can struggle in vain to unlock it again – or we can walk away. Try a new one.  And see where it leads us.
Hannah’s words made me realise I had that opportunity. So Monday’s post was me putting it out to the universe – and the universe, in the last three days, has delivered. HARD CORE.  I was surprised that very afternoon, whilst at my desk at work, by a phone call from one Nate St. Pierre, down in the States, asking me what I planned on doing for lunch the next day. I don’t think I’d ever been so simultaneously thrilled and confused! He explained that someone he’d spent a week with recently exploring Wellington, just so happened, according to Google Earth, to work two blocks down the street from me, and he thought we’d have a lot in common, and might hit it off! So Tuesday I went for my “blind date” – and had a wonderful lunch with his friend. We talked charity work, social media, travel, immigration to Dunedin, NZ, work – work! She just so happened to be pretty high up with a very well known chain of restaurants, and passed my info along to the regional manager – who called me today to see if I’d like to meet to talk about marketing and promotion while he was in town. During the first week of April. AKA my first week of unemployment. Coincidence? I don’t know, but all I know is I’m stunned by the impeccable timing of this wonderful twist of fate, and feeling rather excited indeed.
I also went out for lunch this week with a great coworker, who sadly is leaving the same day as me – we’ve shared many a laugh, a Glee-fest and a thought-provoking discussion since we’ve shared an office, and I’ll miss seeing her every day dreadfully – but at lunch this week, we talked about outside-of-work plans, including tea, good TV, and working on our goal of singing in front of people together.  I’m totally excited to spend more time with her!
And then today, I arrived home to a bit of a surprising email – from a friend I hadn’t spoken to in years.  I was shocked, initially – but after I finished reading it, I was literally jumping up and down.  We’d fallen out over something silly, and she’d read my post on Monday, and decided to reach out.  We used to be extremely close, and I was often sad she was no longer around – and all of a sudden, by random fluke, she finds my post, and decides to take a risk.  And it couldn’t have come at a better time.  This was the girl that I used to see multiple times a week, have endless conversations with, trade music with and convert to all my British TV. :)   Her email reminded me of how I’d felt about Sweet and I – we used to date years ago, didn’t speak for at least five, and had a second chance… after we’d had some time to learn more about ourselves, about the world.  And once we’d grown up a little, we got the chance to give it another go.  This time, the timing was right. And I’m awfully hopeful it’ll be a similar case with her, too.  We’re meeting to catch up this time next week – and I can’t wait.
I’m gobsmacked at the fact it’s only been a matter of days. And at the difference the power of choice can make.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned recently in life, it’s that we really do have the ability to shape our lives.  It’s just a matter of deciding what choice to make.  Sometimes, when you profess your desire for change to the universe, it really does deliver, with more rapidity and assurance than you ever could’ve hoped.
Despite many things right now still being very much up in the air, I’m feeling a heck of a lot more comfortable that everything’s going to work out just fine.  And I owe a great deal of that, my dears, to you guys.
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Finding Friendship (and not with Level 69 Paladins in Netherstorm)


A couple of weeks ago, the ever-lovely Tabitha posted about making real life friends, with real life people, as a real life adult.  One of the reasons I love blogging so much is because you guys really ARE friends – we email, text, chat, and apparently now, vlog, and I’m sure it won’t be long until I’m on the Calgary backpages – but let’s face it: I have very few real life friends. As of this weekend, pretty much zero.
I don’t have a standing Friday night cocktail date with a tight group of four à la Sex and the City.  I don’t do Sunday pancakes or brunch with anyone other than my lovely Dad.  And I had to cancel my St. Patrick’s Day party because I had a grand total of two people confirm, and I refuse to be a total Billy-No-Mates in Montreal.
I see people on Facebook, people who’ve grown in cliques or stayed in the same groups they did in high school, and sometimes I long for that feeling. A feeling of closeness, like a mini family you share everything with, fun times, memories, board games nights, trips out of town, and nights out – memories, and a solid network you know you can rely on. It kind of reminds me of that scene in About A Boy, where he’s talking about how two people aren’t enough, because if one person drops off, you’re left on your own. I can’t help but feel this happened this weekend, and other than David and my little cat, I have nobody in my physical real life.  I try and go above and beyond to try and make other people’s lives better, easier… and it’s worthless. At work, I’m probably getting laid off, and at home, I’m told people’s lives would be better off without me in them.  I’m more than a little heartbroken.
Tabitha’s post got me thinking. In this day and age, when most mid-twenty-somethings have already got their friendships well and truly formed, how do you break in – and not look like a desperate weirdo? Is it even possible at this age, or have we missed our chances? I wish I lived in another city, another place… Illinois, perhaps, where I’m sure Jen and I would hang out all the time, and I could meet up with Brittany for lunch every other day while living in Ashley’s spare room, where we’d share stories and play video games all night.  Or Texas, where I know I’d definitely move into the same Winnipeg neighbourhood as Brittney, and we’d spend Friday nights baking cupcakes and watching girly movies while Audrey and Rose chased each other around. In an ideal world, there’d be one big city with all of you living in it, and I could just come and join the party.  But I’m stuck here, in a city I don’t particularly like very much, where people hundreds of miles away show more interest and friendship than 95% of my real life “friends” on Facebook. And I can’t help  but feel like somewhere along the way, I did something wrong. Or wonder if there’s something wrong with me.
I know life happens.  I know people move around the globe like chess pieces and before long, everyone who was once a ten minute drive away is now somewhere else, seen only in photographs, and heard only through words on a screen.  I know I’m blessed to have people around the globe that I know, were it possible, would be here in a heartbeat if I needed them.  Seriously – those of you who reached out this weekend, you have NO idea how much your words meant to me.  Don’t get me wrong, I like my alone time. I like cooking and writing blogs and reading books and watching TV with Sweet. I like karaokeing to Rock Band all by myself. I cherish the lunches I have with my Dad. But I can’t shake the feeling that I should have some sort of… network, shouldn’t I? Hamilton singles to dress up and go dancing with, or take turns hosting dinner parties with, be in a book club with, or go shopping for 8 hours with, laughing and reminiscing the whole time.
I run into people regularly who I’d love to be friends with.  The girl who does my nails every 3 weeks, who goes on holiday to Toronto personal ads.  The massage therapist I see once a week who chats about Star Trek and music, and exchanges bad roommate stories with me.  The girl at the tanning salon who’s full of tips for my wedding, and the people at work who share so many of the same interests and stories… but wouldn’t hang out regularly with someone 10 or 20 years younger. Asking any of them out for coffee or a movie would either come off as an awkward lesbian pick up line or cross professional boundaries, making future encounters potentially uncomfortable.
There are countless books and websites and services out there to match Winsdor people up in relationships in this world. Compatibility tests, blind dates and questionnaires to fill out to ensure a perfect fit with someone you hope to spend the rest of your life with. But why must it be so difficult to find companionship?  Is it just that I missed my chance?  I really count my blessings for having you guys, and for everything Sweet does for me and brings to my life. I felt like the luckiest girl alive when I read so many kind and concerned words this weekend from many of you. But I can’t help but wonder - is it too late in life to find real-world friends?
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Acceptance: A small step towards ‘A New Earth’


I’ve mentioned this book for a little while now, and lately, I’ve been making an extra effort to really live out the teachings.  Well maybe not “teachings”; ideas? Concepts? I must admit I was a bit of a new kid on the Eckhart Tolle block, having heard of his huge association with Oprah (is there something wrong with me if I’ve never seen an episode?), and shrugging it off as “another self-help author”, but A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose was introduced to me early in the summer, and with the path I feel I’m being called to be on lately, it was rather aptly timed indeed.

backpage sacramento
I cracked open the book one night in the bath. I don’t often take baths because I get terribly bored, and I don’t often read in the bath because everything gets terribly soggy, so this was slightly out of the ordinary. However the experience remains ingrained in memory – I’d put some on pretty music, lit some candles, and had the window half open so a breeze seeped in, refreshing against the steam coming off the bubbles. I’d grabbed a bath pillow and began to read. At first, I was a little hesitant. The first chapter was about the first flower ever to appear on planet Earth hundreds of millions of years ago, opening up to receive sunlight, marking an evolutionary transformation in plantlife. A bit New Age, if you ask me, but I kept reading the analogy, in which he refers to human consciousness – a similar transformation, which has already begun, which, if every human being decided to focus on purpose and awareness, be free of the Ego, and of all the self-imposed limitations and negativity perpetual thinking gives rise to, could bring about a “New Earth”.
Once I passed the first chapter, however, I was hooked. I carried it everywhere and found myself sitting in coffee shops nodding along as I highlighted something on pretty much every other page, wishing there was a way I could steal the words away from the page and install them into my brain where I’d forever be guided and reminded. It’s not a religious book, but the author makes reference to a variety of different religions and spiritual practices, not to add to the reader’s beliefs, but to create food for thought, and hopefully, a shift in consciousness.


One of the main notions of the book is that we, as humans, are trapped in our own minds. Our Ego wants to have an identity, whether good or bad, and we are also conditioned to thinking that if we have more, then we will be happy. Along with thinking and wanting more, comes focusing on lack – lack of money, of friends, of attractiveness, of happiness…  “If the thought of lack – whether it be money, recognition, or love – has become part of who you think you are, you will always experience lack. Rather than acknowledge the good that is already in your life, all you see is lack. No matter what you have or get, you won’t be happy. You will always be looking for something else that promises greater fulfillment, that promises to make your incomplete sense of self complete and fill that sense of lack you feel within.”
The author explains, in a way different from other books I’ve read, that it’s not the Ego itself that is bad, but our identification with it that causes the most suffering. If we identify ourselves by our jobs, our possessions, even on the flipside, by our suffering or hardship – as long as we perpetuate that identification, we are not simply living in the present and accepting things as they are.  The goal is to raise personal awareness of our behaviour, allowing ourselves to simply be in the present moment, rather than getting caught up in in thinking about and reacting to it, or living by the roles we give to ourselves. And aren’t we all guilty of that?
The way we go about the world is shaped, in large part, by our past experiences, by our inner critic, by our fears and by worrying about what other people think of us. We act differently, though maybe only very slightly, around different groups of people. We may act one way around our partner, another around his or her family, another around our boss, and yet another around our closest friends. We ever so subtly fall into different roles shaped by how we want society to see us, or by past hurts or anxieties. Some may have a heightened sense of Ego, going about the world in fancy suits and filling homes with expensive decor, fuelled by the notion that more is better. Some may have latched onto the other end of the spectrum, carrying the weight of their past hardships or present sufferings with a frown on their face and a cloud over their head. The book teaches it doesn’t matter what identification we have with the Ego, as long as it has an identity. And the only way to truly be at peace is to recognise that, detach from those thought patterns, detach from the material things that are ultimately ephemeral, and detach from worry about things over which we have no control.
I took a LOT away from this book, but most of all, I took away the power of awareness and acceptance.  The moment you notice a pattern of behaviour that is no longer working for you, recognise it, change it, and you are on your way to becoming more enlightened and living a more purposeful existence. Instead of allowing reactive emotions to take over in response to unfavourable life events, accept them as they are. Instead of feeling wronged or holding on to grudges, just let them go. And, though painful sometimes, accepting the path a loved one has chosen even though you may believe it’ll end badly. People ultimately only learn from their own mistakes.  There was a great section about peace vs. drama which is something I think we can all identify with, explaining that though we all want peace, there’s something in all of us that also wants drama and conflict. We’re not acknowledged, we have an argument, we feel wronged somehow, and the mind races to defend itself, attack, or blame someone else.
“Can you feel that there is something in you that is at war, something that feels threatened and wants to survive at all cost, that needs the drama in order to assert its identity as the victorious character within that theatrical production? Can you feel there is something in you that would rather be right than at peace?”
The Ego would rather be right than at peace, and the only way to lessen its grip is to become aware of it – the voice in our head that “comments, speculates, judges, compares, dislikes… etc.”  You can catch yourself in these situations, and choose to accept and be happy, rather than insisting at any cost you be right. Since I finished the book I’ve caught myself out slipping into old thought patterns that are ultimately Ego-driven – reacting in arguments, becoming upset over situations I can’t control, worrying about things, and beating myself up. None of this does anyone any good and is never going to pave the way to being at peace, and I think this book should be mandatory reading for everyone who’s concerned at all about finding happiness, and living a good life of intent, peace and purpose. If everyone lived by the teachings of this book, the world would be a very different place indeed. But as with all big movements, they start with a small step. And if I can introduce someone to this reading material and it impacts them the way it did after it was introduced to me… then I’d like to think this was mine.
Sidenote: Apparently I write a LOT when I’m excited about something. Apologies for the mini-essay, but DO give this book a go! Back to brevity tomorrow. When the results from the CONTEST will be out!! :)
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Backpage: The Results (AKA: Epic Fail)


So…. last Tuesday night was the Big Online Dating Expansion Appointment. (For those who missed it, the story of why I had to get it is here.) And it can only be described as one of the most epically awful experiences ever.  I’ll spare you the details of everything I’ve done over the last few years to try and lessen the back pain – you already know I’ve seen more specialists than Heidi Montag’s seen the sharp side of a scalpel. But despite the difficulty, I was determined to get this monstrosity made into something meaningful; I could be proud of again.
Monday night, avoiding all advice against psyching myself out, I got barely a couple of hours sleep in apprehension, tossing and turning until about 2am. I spent most of Tuesday researching options for lessening the pain of tattooing over skin that’s already extremely sensitive, bought a topical anaesthetic which would supposedly numb the skin… only to be told by the online dating artist around lunchtime that it was a bad idea. It would be great if my procedure was going to be less than 45 minutes. Otherwise, for the remaining 2 hours, as it started to wear off, I’d feel all the pain I’d previously been numbed to on top of the new pain I’d be experiencing as he continued, and on top of the already existing condition, it would probably be “unbearable”. His advice: save it for when I come back to get chunks shaded in smaller blocks of time.
So Tuesday. 4:45 pm. I stop at an ATM, take out $300 and head over to the tattoo parlour, feeling slightly sheepish in a white tank top and a black and pink skirt.  They were playing Daft Punk followed by the Spice Girls though, so I couldn’t be that out of place.  They printed the oversized new design, and took me in to get prepped. I’ve had New Orleans backpages – I knew what to expect.  I was silently praying for a case of mind over matter, that somehow the pain would be lifted just for a couple of hours so I could get this taken care of.
It didn’t start off too badly, but about 15 minutes in he was already asking if I was okay because my back was “jumping” a lot. The muscles were going into spasm – just like they did for the longest time before I started going for regular massage at the slightest touch. My face was down on the chair; I held my breath hoping the tears would be held back too. 20 minutes in and it was already excruciating. He’d started way out over my left shoulderblade, it being the “better” side of my back, but as he got closer to the spine it became more and more unbearable. I couldn’t help the tears, and I felt like a spectacular loser. I’d told him about my back problem when I initially made the appointment, but I don’t know if he remembered.  I took a break, caught my breath, and decided to keep going. I found myself exhaling, afraid to take a breath in for fear of it hurting more, whispering “it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay” between needlings.  But it wasn’t okay. The muscles kept spasming, and then my whole body started shaking, just like when I got the cortisone shots.  I couldn’t stop, and suddenly I was taken over by fear and pain.  I knew if it was this bad on the left side of my back, the ‘bad side’ wasn’t going to happen. I’d been defeated.
I heard the artist talking loudly, words of this being “a first in all his seventeen years of tattooing” and how there’d be no way he’d ever be able to get it to line up again,” and how I still had to pay him for the whole thing despite only having a quarter of an outline finished. $320 including my deposit, and I left sobbing, my head flooded with all the old voices that told me I wasn’t good enough or strong enough. That not only was I going to have to continue to wear this badge proclaiming my past mistakes, but I have to add another to it, telling the world I just made another one, drawing attention to my former naivety, and ridiculing my present efforts at ridding myself of it.
On the way to the appointment, I’d come up with an idea I thought would help me through it. None of us can write a new past for ourselves, but we can make the choice to start writing a new ending. I wasn’t going to “erase” my past with laser removal, I was going to embrace it for the lessons it taught me, the person it made me, and add to it, it becoming part of something bigger and better, more meaningful; still there, comprising yet also hidden by the person I am today. I thought this would help me get through it, but now it feels like a punishment. That I must be made to wear this badge of past failures, and that I would be made to live with constant pain, day in and day out ensuring I cannot cover it up.
But I have to remind myself that nothing that’s worth doing is done easily. The process of personal transformation was sparked by things nobody should have to experience, though I’m not ready to share those just yet. The most difficult times have led to a determination to change them, and I’m confident I’m doing all I can to achieve that.  But it all seems so easy in comparison to ongoing physical pain, when all you want is for your body to have the strength to be a reflection of the person your mind has worked so hard to become.
Lesson learned? No, if the lesson is that I must resign myself to being branded with my past mistakes. I can’t do anything I can keep trying physical therapy, but I don’t know if it’s working. The effects are fleeting and expensive. I have to accept that in its current state, my back (and bank account) isn’t going to be able to handle another attempt at tattooing.  So, I must find another option. Laser tattoo removal? Perhaps. Though there are only two places in the city that do it – one accompanied with a barrage of horror stories about Portland personals, also costing an arm and a leg, and the other, a cosmetic surgery clinic, an awkward experience in that I worked there for all of three days before quitting based on moral objections. Wouldn’t that be fun to go back? Apparently it hurts just as much, and is just as expensive, and would take just as many sittings as finishing the backpage dating. Which apparently can’t be done, because “there’s no way my back will be able to take it in this condition, and there’s no way the design would be able to be lined up again.”
This is what I am left with.  It looks strange and unattractive, but isn’t that often what the road to growth is?  It’s not cookie-cutter, it’s incomplete, and it’s not something, at first glance, one would wish for. But it’s real. It’s a representation of a determination to face my past and embrace it, and of trying to make it part of who I am no matter how painful the process. On Wednesday I met with another Sarasota backpage dating, somewhere infinitely more understanding, more welcoming, with more impressive portfolios. I was told about the options of going to my doctor to get some strong pain killers prescribed before coming in, and that yes, they could work in small sections – but it was going to be incredibly costly to do it that way.  At this point, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.  But until I figure it out, I will wear this disfigurement knowing that one day, with guts, strength and tenacity, and  it will become something beautiful.
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четверг, 19 декабря 2019 г.

Chock full of pride and inspiration


A couple of months ago, I posted something I’d been holding back for a little while: how I honestly feel about living away from England.  Though I still don’t quite feel at home here, I am thankful for everything my time in Canada has taught and brought me… but every once in a while I can’t help but feel terribly homesick.

https://www.symbaloo.com/mix/frenchdating
https://www.symbaloo.com/mix/americandating
https://www.symbaloo.com/mix/texasbackpage
https://www.symbaloo.com/mix/backpage
https://www.symbaloo.com/mix/loveawakepersonals
https://www.symbaloo.com/mix/onlinedating2
https://www.symbaloo.com/mix/relationships4
Like the whole of last week, when a small phenomenon known as Britain’s Got Talent took over the UK and the whole of the Internet. Now, stay with me here, I know America’s Got Talent has a bit of a bad reputation – but BGT brought us Susan Boyle, Paul Potts, and Diversity – the street dance crew that set the bar for the future of modern dance, combining innovative DJing, INSANE synchronization, unpredictable moves, comedy, surprises and stories throughout, pretty much rendering every former style obsolete.  I remember watching last year’s final, eating my tea with my mouth open and my fork stuck mid-air, not being able to take my eyes off them for a second.
This year, I was a little nervous the acts wouldn’t live up to last year’s standard. But with the strange, the compelling yet vomit-worthy (yes, a regurgitator made it to the semi finals – and tore at the country’s heartstrings!), and the downright bizarre have also come moments of sheer genius that have given me goosebumps, and had me giving standing ovations in my living room, applauding like a madwoman. (This is why we have curtains.)
What I love about this competition is that it gives the opportunity to showcase not only variety, but imagination, something different, and gives ordinary people a platform upon which to surprise the world. This year’s final was nothing short of STUNNING, and I honestly had no idea who’d take the title for 2010 and go on to perform for the Queen. Here are some of the acts that made my SPINE tingle with awesomeness:
Spelbound - a young gymnastics troupe who auditioned to Carmina Burana, with routines including human cannonballs, bodies as skipping ropes, launching bodies over the judging panel and SUPER HUMAN STRENGTH, balancing upside down, on their heads, sideways on a single hand, building stories, drama, and will literally make your jaw drop to the floor. I’ve never seen anything quite so exhilarating and awe-inspiring (and so proud they’ll be representing the country – amazing winners!!)
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Forget ‘sorry’; goodbye’s the hardest word

Saying goodbye after the Fringe every year ALWAYS breaks my heart, and I find myself immediately counting down the days until we can do it all over again. But that heart also radiates an enormous appreciation for having such a brilliant friend, who, despite living thousands of miles away, will be one for life.


In the too-near future, while I’m away in England next week, I’m also going to have to say goodbye to another good friend. I’ve been fortunate not to have had to have been separated from too many people in my life; other than once, last year, one left for B.C. to pursue his Masters, which was hard, but other than that, I think the only other time I had to face separation was when I left England ten years ago.  But in the next week and a bit, I’m going to have to say goodbye to someone else.

Ted has, shockingly, only been in my life for the last 3 months, 11 hours, and 8 minutes (ever go in your Facebook inbox and find the very first message exchanged with someone? Try it, it’s fun!), but it seems like we should’ve been friends forever. We met online through Facebook Friend Suggestions, and it turned out we had quite a few people in common. After about a month of exchanging emails, we met up in person (yes, out in public, and yes, my back was covered just in case) and talked for HOURS.  I was worried about what Sweet might think, me going out to meet a bloke off the Internet, but he all for it, fully supportive of my huge (and rather sad) desire to make friends. So I went. And it was brilliant. Conversation was effortless, intelligent, and fun. We were reading the same book, we both had random philosophical ponderings, and we both wanted to set goals for ourselves. Again, friendship was almost instantaneous, and over the last few weeks we’ve shared hours of coffee and wanderings around the city, sharing hopes and dreams, plans, goals, and life stories. He wanted to keep a journal, so I got one for his trip; I wanted to learn to sing in front of people, he invited me to karaoke and told me I’d be great. (Sidenote: THIS WEDNESDAY. HOLD ME.) True friends do that – they’re there to listen to all the good things and bad things about you and still like you, encourage you, and want to stick around anyway.  Kind of like the big brother I always wanted.
We went to the Fringe last week, when he broke the news: he’s being transferred to Ontario. Permanently. Being face-to-face I had to stifle tears!! I was thrilled about the new opportunity, but so sad it had to come so soon – and of course while I’m out of the country. I came home and whined about it to Sweet so much that I completely forgot a writing deadline! That night I got a text message – “don’t worry. Everything has a reason for happening. I’m still here for now, me leaving is in the future.”  Did I not mention? That book we were both reading was A New Earth, by Eckhart Tolle (review to come!), author of The Power of Now, next up on my list. This friend has introduced me to the whole idea of living in the present without worrying so much about the future – something I’m forever going to try to live by. It’s funny how some people’s chapters in our lives can be so brief, but the difference they’ve made can last so much longer.
But for the next couple of weeks, I’m not going to think about saying goodbye.  Because today, it’s easier than ever to stay in touch with the people that mean the most. I’ve been out of England for ten years, and someone I met when I was about twelve remains one of my closest friends to this day. In a couple of weeks, I’ll be spending a couple of days with someone who lived across the street when I was 9, 10 years old, congratulating her on her upcoming wedding. Time and distance may be intimidating, but ultimately prove no match for those people that are firmly planted in your life, and in your heart.  Except now I really have to get on Skype more than once every three months. And stop being so afraid of the telephone. Although there’s something quite lovely about a handwritten letter every now and again. :)
Have you ever had to say goodbye to a friend? Do they know how much impact they’ve had on your life? It’s important I think, every now and again, to tell people how much they mean. Farewell Shelby and Ted, but only for now.
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