So much depends upon

The fall is my busy season at work. And by busy, I mean crazy and flat out. I have a staff of 5 for 4 months and I (along with my colleagues) try to maintain what we call "game face"- the appearance that all is well regardless of the level of fundraising crisis we are now face to face with. So we call the fall- "campaign". And campaign is always busy, the time when all the planning we have done comes to fruition in a maddening pace. 

Combine campaign with family crisis and you gave the reason for a long absence on the blog. 

My mother has been battling metastasized breast cancer for the last 2 years. And one month ago we found out the cancer had spread to her brain and her bones. A sad shock to say the least. So I took a week off to be with my mom as she dealt with the news and as she prepped or surgery. 

That meant taking a week off the week of campaign, leaving the chaos in the hands of my generous coworkers. God bless their support. 

In the end, Mom made it through brain surgery and is recovering well. She is back to driving us all crazy, which means we have reached the realm of normal.  She starts radiation and restarts chemotherapy soon. 

While I may sound cavalier about it, I cope with it as rationalizing it as the new normal. Every time we meet with a new low in the cancer experience, I am able to deal with it (as a mere supporter) as understanding it as the new level of cancer normalcy. 

So this fall has been chaotic. And beyond my best friend and husband, who are both equally understanding and amazing, I seem to go back to one place to keep me sane: "The Red Wheelbarrow." 

This poem grounds me; it reminds me to focus on the basics, because that it what is important. I have stopped and gone back to this poem more times that I can count in the last month, and I am sure I will keep going back many times in the future. 

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

1461 Days

I married the most amazing man 4 years ago today. 

I cannot express how lucky I am to have him in my life.  He is strong, firm in his morals, compassionate, and always makes me smile.  In the six plus years we have been together, we continue to love more, grow together, and learn more about ourselves, eachother and the world around us.  Communicating is easy and sharing our lives is a happy journey.

I am thankful to have him in my life.  He makes me a better person everyday.

Growing

I have to say that in writing for this blog, I am learning more about myself and seeing areas in my life that I need to develop further.  In reflecting on the post I recently put up about friendship, I realized that I was wrong.  Dead wrong.  In reflecting and re-reading, I sounded a little bit like a douchebag. 

I had noted that I was essentially OK with sacrificing one specific friendship if it meant that I could maintain another one.  Upon reflection, I realized they are not mutually exclusive.  And that basically I am an idiot.

I may have mentioned here that I am terribly judgemental.  If not...I am terrible judgemental.  And this unattractive trait is what has stood in the way of maintaining a 10 year old friendship. Knowing when I am wrong and working to recticfy the damage done does help, but only so much.

So I reached out to an old friend yesterday.  It went painfully sideways though.  I sent her a text saying essentially: I see from your notes on Facebook that you are happy and in love and I am so happy for you.  Miss you.  Turns out, I didn't do my due diligence and sent the text to her ex-husband.  Crap.  Nothing like having your ex' happiness rubbed in your face for a good time.  Let us just say that he wasn't amused with my little mix up.

But her response, when I let her know how I messed up, was funny and understanding.  More importantly, it opened the doors for me to be honest as to why I have been MIA from the friendship for the past couple of years.  And I expressed how I hoped we could essentially start from scratch and get to know each other again. (wow, I really sounded like an over-emotional girl there.  But I am one, so whatever).

I don't know what her response will be.  It could go in any direction.  But I hope that we can rebuild.

As I continue to write, I learn more about myself.  The great and the ugly.  And I learned I am not OK with throwing a friendship away.  And as I come up to my 28th birthday in a couple of weeks, I know that I am content with who I am, but will be even happier when I can be the person I know I can be.

Mentally Hilarious

She is not mentally deformed, instead she is mentally hilarious.  So hilarious in fact, she may end up as new moccasins or a rug one day (thanks Lani for the line).  These were taken in one very brief moment of repose. 

Melancholy midnight musings

I have been lying awake for the past couple of hours, so I thought I would get up and write.

What is keeping me awake is a combination of a puppy who won't lie down and sleep; too much coffee throughout the day and a mind that doesn't seem to want to wind down tonight.  I usually don't try and fight the wondering mind, but go with it and see where it takes me.  Some nights I think about work, other nights I get weirdly sentimental about random things and people and other times, like tonight, I think about my relationships.

Dear reader, you can stop reading and save yourself now.  Don't say I didn't give you an out when you stab yourself in the eyeball with a fork from the overkill of dejection seeping from the page.

I have this friend, who I have known since elementary school.  We went to high school, college and university together.  She stood by me when I got married, and I in turn stood by her when she got married.  And despite being close for much of the past 10 years, I feel over the past 6-12 months, I am having fewer and fewer of my phone calls returned, more and more of my text messages going unanswered, and just a general retreat from our friendship. 

Is it me?  Is it her?  Is it life?  My first thought is, what did I do?

I immediately go back to eighth grade when, for reasons unknown to me then and still now, my group of friends turned their backs.  I tried to ignore the snickers and snubs and tried to go on as usual, because admitting to myself that I wasn't part of the group, an outsider, hurt too much.  I could never figure out what happened, what I did or what someone said about me.  No one would tell me. It was an awful feeling.  And I feel echos of that now.  What did I do? 

Now, like then, I don't know what I don't know.  I am not always the most self aware person, and can be obnoxious and/or insensitive and not realize it.  I want nothing more for people to call me out when that happens, so I can work to right my wrong(s).  Because clearly I do not have the capability of avoiding the wrongdoing in the first place.  At least let me fix it.


Then I entertain the thought that it has nothing to do with me at all, maybe it is the fact my husband drank so much he vomited the last time, two times, we were over.  The only 2 times in over 6 years he has been sick from the drink - both at her house.  Nice one hunny.

But in all seriousness, I feel nothing mean or malicious in the silence from my friend.  She often gets so busy with work and school and life, the pestering phone calls must be the last thing she wants.  Or is this what happens when you grow up?  People grow apart?  I am by no means close to all or many of the people I went to school with or even as close to the some of the bridesmaids who were in my wedding, so why is the waning of this particular friendship bothering me so much?  Where is the expiration date on a friendship?  Did I pass my best before date?

I haven't even looked at the fact that she is the glue to a couple of other friendships.  As awful as it is, I think I could give up those more distant friendships (if they can still be considered as such) to keep this one friend close.


But I don't want to give up.  I will keep calling to check in.  I will keep texting to let her know I am thinking about her.  Because she is important to me, and I would miss her.  More than I miss her already.

"how to get avoid train wreck women"

So I was looking through my stats the other day and noticed that this was one of the search phrases used when somone connected to this here blog.  I am going to assume that it is a guy who was trying to learn more about the fairer sex.  Oh and he is from the Southern USA.  (I won't get too specific in case he comes back one day, who knows?)

At first I read it as, "how to avoid train wreck women" and I though- good on him for seeking out some tips to avoid the pitfalls of hooking up with a crazy woman.  We all know at least one, and it is never a good scene.  But upon taking a second glance, I see he is not sure whether he wants to attrack or repell said women.

Or maybe he is just covering all of his bases, if he knows how to get these women, then he could reverse engineer that to avoid them too.

Welcome this insight into how my brain works.  It is good times in my head.

Seeking the positive

So I would be lying through my teeth if I said that I don't like the sound of my own voice. I am a talker, a sharer, a look-at-me-I-did-something-good-please-praise-me kind of person.

I am however, really trying to keep my share-everything-with-the-world moments on a positive note.  I have been noticing as of late that there are people who just aren't happy, are really miserable and want to share their complaints point by point with the world.  I don't want to be part of that club. 

This is a new experiment for me.  I have always referenced myself as a complainer, but that isn't who I want to be.  I get too aggravated by those who take the time to post long complaints on Facebook or their blogs. 

Shall I be more specific?  This might piss some folks off but, here we go: 

My mom has been battling breast cancer in her lungs with 2 years straight of chemo- that is tough shit to handle and she handles it with a great amount of positive energy.  Yet there are folks in my life that complain about everything. I want to shake them and say, "Your like is not that hard, suck it up.  You have a job, or you have your health, or you are able to have a family.  Enjoy it!"  No one wants to be constantly bombarded by the negative energy of a bunch of Eeyores .

I am not discounting that everyone has struggles and need to reach out for support from those around them.  But if you are complaining in every post, in every conversation, people are going to have enough and want to distance themselves.

So after recognizing that there are bits of that in me, I said, "Enough of that."  And so my first step was to keep my Facebook postings on a light and generally happy note.  That has been a relatively easy task.  Next step - stop complaining about everything else in my day to day conversations.  Weening myself off the negative.

I have a long way to go, lets not kid ourselves.  But it took until now for me to realize that if I can't stand complainers, people must really not like when I whinge and whine about work or my commute or about all of the other complainers that annoy the snot out of me.

First step - be positive.  Second step - stop talking about myself so much.  Bah, then what will I have to talk about?

*KNOCK KNOCK* ... Is this thing on?

Ok, so it has been a while.  I was taking quiet, self-reflective time to meditate and seek out my authentic voice. 

um...

If that makes you respect me more in the morning, then you can believe that.

Really, I was just busy.  Busy with work; busy with sweeping twice a day due to a shedding dog and busy with the summer line up of trashy TV.  I had many great intentions to post some off-beat thoughts and musings combined with poor quality point and shoot photos, but that really didn't pan out now did it?

But I love and missed all 12 people who have ever accidentally linked into my blog.  Especially you, you crazy IP address from Russia.

So the plan is to not make a plan.  I will write when I have the urge and the time.  Because with this here blog, I am not seeking to be a Somebody, I am ok with just being just one of a gazillion nobody bloggers.  Although I do get a kick out of the many bloggers who think and write as if they are capital "S" Somebodies in the social media world.  I love observing self delusion.  I prefer the somebodies (small "S") who have so much to celebrate in their nobody worlds.  But whether you are a nobody, a somebody or a Somebody, I will read all of your archived posts way back to 2002, I can't help it.  I must consume. But I will judge you while I read.

But what goes around, comes around.  You can feel free to judge me.  In fact, judge me based on the content or the fact that I made the error of cutting my own bangs this morning.  It is never a good scene when I cut my own hair.

So I have to head out now.  You are cutting into the premier of The Bachelor Pad.  Seriously.

I am a bad blogger

Ok, it has been a month since I have last posted - a good blogger I am not.  But too bad, that is how it is.  Life- it happens, and while activities and conversations are documented in my brain as good fodder for the blog, I haven't taken it that one step further- to the blog.  I am a bad blogger.  Good thing, I do not see this as a financially viable way to sustain myself.  Good thing I have a day job - and it isn't blogging.

I will spend some time over the next couple of days getting some things up here and out into the interwebs.  I will attempt in documenting our travails and goings ons as of late, including:

• The drive in theatre - first trip there this year.
• Day trip with the dogs out to a lake and a very long and bumpy gravel road.
• A trip on a boat with my mother, and no one was pushed overboard.

In the meantime, please look at our beasts - Marla and Tucker.  Marla loves the mud, and loves to bring it in the house and spread it all around.  One day she will have a mop attached to her tail and she can for once clean up after herself.

Skinny Jeans

They really aren't for everyone.

If the fashion industry said to jump off a bridge......

Sweet sweet shoes

Ok, finally a post about shoes.

I once had a problem, it almost needed an intervention.  I am addicted to shoes, I love them, I would kill for them.  Being a big girl means clothing styles can be limitted, but I can always dress an outfit up with shoes.

A while back, however, I decided that far too much money was being spent on this addiction hobby.  So I decided that I would make what I had in my closet work, and haven't purchased much in the last year, choosing instead to re-tip old shoes. 

I have fallen off the wagon.  5 words: Army and Navy shoe sale.

I was lucky enough to have a meeting downtown this morning, a mere couple of blocks from the A & N.  I thought, "What could be the harm just taking a little look?"  The first day was yesterday, so the crazy women had already gone through the store like well made up Tasmanian Devils.  And with free parking, I knew as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I had made the right decision.  Time to shop.

With much restraint and thinking pragmatically, I only left there with 5 new pairs of shoes.  Only 5.  I hear you chuckling, it is ok, it is my addiction and I have come to terms with that.

I decided that I needed some new shoes for work, as my current ones are on their last breaths, and nothing is worse than wearing beat up, worn out shoes when out meeting with volunteers and donors, or anyone for that matter.  So with my basket in hand, I grabbed 10 pairs on the shelf and started trying them on.

The first pair to come home with me were these.  While they look a little basic, the heel juts out and has a very interesting look on.  And they are super stable, and as I am uber clumsy, stable is a good thing.


The second pair to find a new home, are these suede beauties.  The heel is shiny and a little hard looking, while the purple suede is soft and girly.

These are the ones I am most excited to wear.  What you cannot see in the photo is that there is a peep toe.  And the leather is so soft. Mmmmm soft.

The other 2 are basic.  No pictures needed.

But I think you should be proud of me.  In fact, really, I deserve a friggin' medal.  I showed restraint and a sense of level headedness that even impressed myself.  I went with the pragmatic, functional route and purchased only those that fit and that I would wear for work.  And since I am in heels everyday, these were sound choices.  I did some research online and it looks like I got about $600 worth of shoes for about $150 before tax.  Not bad I say.

But since I am off the wagon, I may as well stay off.  I will go back this weekend to find some totally crazy shoe(s) that I may only wear once.  I love them.  I will kill for them.

In Bloom

  Spring has sprung,

the grass is riz.

I wonder where the birdies is.

That is what I remember my Grandpa saying about spring.  Funny how certain things stick in your head.

Spring is here and that means there is life sprouting all over the place in our yard.  And because we spent hours in the yard this weekend trying to fend off complete wilderness, I want to share the bloom with you.


We have rhodos, lots of rhodos.  In fact there are 8 different coloured rhodos on our property and they all bloom at different times.  Like this pale pink one, which tied to bloom during winter, and decided it was better off to wait until spring.




 

The lilac smells even better than it looks.  Too bad it is way in the corner.  Nobody puts lilac in a corner.

And we have the big bald spot the dogs have worn down in their endless games of tag. Other games include: bring all the destroyed balls to the middle of the yard and find random pieces of cardboard and bring them to the middle of the yard.

Not to mention the giant holes in the yard, another favourite dog past time.  We have 2 husky mixes, there are MANY holes.  Lets just ignore the fact we paid $800 last year to get our yard in order (I love throwing away our money).

 Back to happy thoughts.  This is my favourite, the red rhodo that is just coming into bloom.  I like to think of it as superior to the others, but not snobby.





 And with all of this bloom we have this - 12 yard bags of clippings, trimmings and all of the sticks, twigs and bark collected by the 2 critters.  It never ends, from April to December, bags and bags and bags.  This alone was Sunday's haul.

But after all of that yard work, we have this masterpiece of relaxation.  The hammock.





And we can finish off the day of slaving over the yard to keep up with the Jones' by sitting in the patio with left over Christmas lights.



Please don't judge.

Self Discipline

I have none. End of post.

Not really.

The latest manifestation of my lack of discipline is sleep. I have turned into a 10 year old that doesn't want to go to bed when it is her proper bed time even though her eyelids can barely stay open and she is only semi-conscious.

I am a rational and intelligent woman; I know that staying up until 1am will kick my ass six different ways the next day. And I don't have a good reason for being up. I read (books, blogs), I might play a mind numbing game on the computer, or sit zombie-like in front of the TV. I am never doing anything really constructive with my time, no hobbies or chores.

I think I need an intervention.

And the crazy thing? I love sleep more than almost anything, and yet I still can't get my butt to bed at a decent time. And when I finally get to bed, I lie awake because I have mucked up what once was a "normal" sleep pattern.

There is no help for me.

Does anyone else stay up for no apparent reason?

I didn't marry for the money.

My dad always used to say to me and my sister: "Don't marry for money, just hang around rich guys until you find one you like."

I didn't listen, go figure. I married for love, how cliche of me. And now I have to work for a living to pay the bills instead of lounging by a pool by day and attending cocktail receptions with the who's-who by night.

So my hubby (who has yet to select a moniker for my blog) turned 30 this weekend. And instead of partying up with the boys or having a big surprise party at our house, he kindly came with me to the big event for a dance company that I am on the board of. It was the final performance for the production that had been 2 years in the making. And he came to support me. Even though a contemporary dance performance may not have been his first choice for a 30th birthday celebration.

I am so grateful for his support, even when it takes away what rightfully should have been a night all about him.

(I did try make it up to him with a surprise trip to Vegas, hockey tickets and a nice homemade meal. So I can't be all bad?)

This all ties back to how the hell you balance your life. Did I make the right choice about spending his birthday as we did? I don't know. But I married for love, and the decision was a little easier that way.

Dinner with love

I get to see my father and step-mother about 3 or 4 times a year. They work outside the country, working on contracts 6 months at a time. And while they were home we scored a dinner with them, and I so treasure that time!

They are home for a quick stop before heading to their vacation home in Hawaii (ahh the life they lead, I am jealous). They came over for dinner and I can't help but wish they were around so much more.

I am generally the black sheep of my family. Except with them. I like feeling normal, I won't lie. And with them, I do.

Tonight we had a great meal with good wine - they are amateur foodies like us. I was glad to be able to cook for them (and have them appreciate what went into said meal and appreciate the wine) and laugh and tell stories. I know it will be another 3 or 4 months before we can do that again.

I even got to vent about being the black sheep and share the strange family stories they missed out on while they were gone.

My dad makes me feel normal. I am not the crazy one, dammit!

Ode to the Sucky Inny Thing

Maybe we don't know each other well enough yet, maybe this might turn you away from our budding friendship. But I am pledging my love to the sucky-inny-thing. That nude body wrap that sucks in all and makes ladies like myself just slightly less rolly polly.

I love them so much I haven't worn much else for 3 years - much to my husband's dismay.

I once read a line in a fluffy novel about how putting one on made the lead lumpy heroine feel like a "slug in straw". My bff and I laughed and laughed as we knew that feeling. I have shoved myself into said straw everyday for the last 3 years that I now feel oddly free and loose if I don't have one on.

For you men who happened upon this post accidentally, I apologize.

And for the women who don't have extra layers they need to strap in, let me let know know what we larger ladies do to feel a little more streamlined in our clothes. It is like trying to squeeze into a wet suit pair of panties that go right up and over your extra tummy bits and right up under your boobs. And it is nude...it is not even a colour. But things are snug and I know I stand a little taller for being a little less wide.

I love these things, I have maybe 8 or 9 different pairs and styles. The hubby, I am sure, can't stand them, it makes it difficult to get to the fun parts for him, but I wouldn't trade them in for anything.

Who needs sexy panties, when I can have a nude tube of cloth sucking me in? And besides, I can always have sexy shoes!

The Start

Where does one start their blog? Do I bust out something funny and ironic right off the bat and then have to continuously live up to that level? Or should I just lay out who I am and hope that my bio will be enough to bring you back to check in again?

I think about other beginnings: LOST has the opening eye, the bible has the whole Genesis thing and "Happy Birthday" starts with "happy". (That is probably the first and last time I will make a biblical reference as that exhausted my knowledge of it). But these 3 are all good hooks, but not really my style.

So. Maybe I should just stick with what I know...me.

My name is Shan. I am a married twenty-something. My husband (who doesn't want to be named on here, but I have yet to think of something interesting to call him) and I have been married for almost 4 years. We have no children, not for lack of trying. And we have 2 crazy dogs - Tucker and Marla.

I work outside the home in the not-for-profit sector. I range between loving my job and loathing it depending on the particular work at hand. Is that so different than most working people in the world? I should clarify that my loathing is for working in general, not for my actual job! I am however, extra lucky because I get to work with my best friend of 10 years, which helps (she too will need a name, I am not sure if she wants me to use her name).

I am a know-it-all by nature. I still remember my grade 6 basketball coach getting mad at one of my know-it-all moments and throwing a basketball at my head yelling "You DO NOT know everything!" I don't think it has sunk in yet. I guess with this trait also come the bossy trait (I am the oldest of 3 kids, it isn't my fault). I do a lot of apologizing in my life for being a bossy boots. I just like barking orders. Others do not like it so much.

I have a kooky, interesting and sometimes tragically odd family. Lots of fodder there. I also foresee many apologies.

I, like so many other women, try to balance a career, a marriage, constant trying for children and trying to find myself somewhere in all of that. Everyday I feel like it could go careening off the edge or smash into a brick wall, but I keep steaming along.

I come with many quirks and issues. I dislike noise. I constantly struggle with and lose the battle with my weight. I get annoyed when people don't say "Bless you" when I sneeze, although I am not superstitious or religious. I would rather sleep than do anything else in the world.

But that is about it for now. Here we go.