Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Opportunities For New Beginnings Sometimes Take Us By Surprise


So I mentioned that my laptop died. I lost my writing, my music, my pictures; pretty much anything in electronic form that meant anything to me was lost into the abyss of broken hard drives. I decided I could react in one of two ways. I could be devastated and focus on the negative, writhing in agony over all the things that I lost OR I could look at it as a positive; a chance to start fresh. I decided to go with the latter. I bought myself a new writing journal and decided to keep my writing in 2 forms, my notebook and type it out on my laptop. I bought a fountain pen which makes me feel very artistic and old-school while I write in my notebook which has Edgar Allen Poe gold-embossed on the cover. It's kinda a treat to sit and write in it. It occurred to me as well that the typing aspect could be used as an easy way to edit my work as I go.

I also decided that I would branch out my music tastes. I've been asking people what kinda music they are really into and giving it a listen to see if I can find anything inspiring. So far that's been working well for me. In the last week I've found 3 new bands which I am really digging right now.

Most importantly though I came up with the plan to set lots of small goals for myself right now. Little things which are easy to accomplish so that I can give myself a little boost of self-esteem in a time when I may not be feeling at my best. So far that's been working well too.

So there you go. One bad turn of events triggered a landslide of good events. Its funny how things like that happen. Just when you think nothing can get worse...it gets better.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Life is a Lesson in Coping


So I've realized that coping with what life throws at you is an art; one I have yet to master. I'm obviously done my summer classes since it is nearly December. I've now come mid-way through yet another busy year of University. This school year finds me trying to balance school, my child, and my sanity in solitary while my husband pursues his Master's degree in another city. We manage daily phone calls but they are more just brief check-ins to make sure we are both still alive. I have seen my husband in total for a week and a half since September.

Throughout these last few months my laptop has died with all my school work and writing dieing with it, my daughter has tested every possible boundary in every way imaginable and my mental health which I thought was stabilized with meds has taken a slight dip into the negative. I've had to drop a class from my 3 classes therefore prolonging graduation even more. So suffice it to say I've been coping but it's been difficult. Some days I feel like I'm in water up to my neck, balancing on algae covered rocks and my feet keep slipping.

If anything all of this has taught me yet again the importance of taking time to sustain inner peace through whatever means necessary. Whether that be by going to counseling, being active, eating healthier or just simply some time for myself doing something I enjoy. I think most importantly though is forgiving myself for not being perfect and not being able to do everything at once. It doesn't mean I'm lazy, or less of a person...it just simply means I'm human and have limits. Realizing your limits and respecting them is important for everyone but I think probably more so for someone who struggles with mental illness of any sort. As much as I'd like to think I'm just like everyone else It's important for me to remember that I do have an illness and I do need to keep that in mind when setting goals.

Life is a learning process and some of us learn at a slower pace than others. I don't think thats a bad thing, just the reality of how things are.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Sorry for the delay...


So I decided that in order to possibly finish my degree faster, I would take summer classes. I knew it would be a lot of work seeing as how it is very sped up but I didn't realize just how sped up and busy I would become. Let me give you an idea.

Classes began May 11. Since then I have had 12 hours of lecture a week. 3 hours 4 days a week. I have read 4 novels totaling 1198 pages and am currently reading 2 more novels simultaneously.

I have read 7 short stories and written an in class essay on one of them. I am currently writing a 1500 word essay on one of the short stories as well due on June 8. On top of this I work weekends, usually only 10-15 hrs but still.

I am also trying to narrow down topics for a 4000 word essay due July 14. (roughly 15 pages)

Can anyone say stress much?

Luckily I love the classes I'm in; the topics are inspiring, the books are amazing, and the Professors are witty and engaging. Unfortunately despite these things, I barely have time to breathe.

I will however make my best efforts to update you. Expect short posts and less witticisms than normal but I will make my best efforts as I miss my blog or rather the idea that people may read my blog out of genuine interest. (This could point to some narcissistic tendencies on my part).

See you on the flip side.

Friday, May 1, 2009

I don't have the Swine Flu but I may have "Baby Fever"


So I've got this problem.

Every time I see a baby, whether on T.V., a movie, the subway, or any other number of scenarios, I want one. I don't just think to myself "It sure would be nice to have a baby." I actually ache down to my core for want of one. Maybe it's because I'm nearing that big three-oh. Maybe it's because my daughter is nearing the tweens and I long for those days when she was oh so small. Maybe it's because my sister is on her second in as many years and I want to have what she has. Or maybe I'm just the type of person who wants kids. Whichever way you slice it, I want a baby.

This wouldn't be a problem save the fact that my husband doesn't want a baby. Sure I've already had a baby. I've experienced it; but I did so alone. My daughter happened before my husband did. What I long for is the whole kit-and-kaboodle: The jumping up and down pregnancy test from excitement; The Doctors visit where you and your husband smile in anticipation of the big day; The lamaze classes; The picking out baby names together. I want to do it right.

Now I don't know that kids are out of the question entirely. My husband may want kids down the line. I've asked and I usually get some vague answer which tells me more that he doesn't want to hurt me than he'd like to have kids, but he doesn't say no. Which is something right?

He just says for certain that he doesn't want kids now. He's going into a Master's program. I'm completing my undergraduate degree. He figures now isn't a good time, which I totally get. But if life has taught me anything it's that the heart wants what the heart wants. That and that things will eventually sort themselves out.

So I guess we'll see what develops.

(Pardon my pun. )

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

For Shame...


I sit here this evening ashamed of myself; not as a person but as a would-be Canadian writer. For years I have dreamed of writing not just for my pleasure but for the pleasure of others. I have looked up to authors such as Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, H. G. Wells and Aldous Huxley as shining examples of what I wanted to someday evolve into; shining examples of what truly great and substantial writing should be. Embarrassingly not once did it occur to me that there was a comparable writing. I mean obviously there are Canadian authors, and I had heard of Margaret Atwood and Margaret Laurence, but for whatever reason I dismissed them. Not as unworthy of reading but I believe it was part of what some Canadians face; an inferiority complex in comparison to the United States. I feel that considering 90% of what is available to me on television and media is American I can hardly be blamed for feeling insignificant.

I now feel myself feeling quite proud and pleasantly surprised. I will be taking some Canadian literature courses during the summer term and have been reading course material now to get a head start. I find myself reading a novel which I have never heard of, from and author who I am not familiar with, and wondering how such a sparkling gem of literary wit escaped my notice all these years.

I do not profess to be the most intelligent nor the most informed literary student but I AM an avid reader and have been for at least 23 of my 28 years. I have a propensity for searching out new authors and new genres out of sheer curiosity.I am slightly surprised, in light of this, that I have not sought out more relevant -and by relevant I mean Canadian- literature.

Regardless here I find myself for the first time in quite some time, as most of my reading now consists of textbooks, completely and utterly enthralled by a Canadian author. This surprise is compounded by the fact that he wrote the novel almost 70 years prior to my birth. Not only do I associate with the characters but I feel absolutely transported to his little town of Mariposa. The novel which I speak of is
Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town by Stephen Leacock. If you haven't read it I highly suggest it. It follows the events and humourous characters in a small Ontario town and even though the setting is nearly a century past, manages to stay startlingly relevant in the portrayal of inner workings of small town society.

So here's my epiphany I've been leading up to. Canadians have made a substantial literary mark on the world. That may not mean a lot to some people but to me that means my inferiority complex is unfounded and I also have the potential to someday *knock on wood* make a substantial literary mark myself.

So wish me luck! Oh, and rave wise.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

So I decided to look up my blog for old times sake


So I'm sitting in my apartment feeling slightly stir-crazy and then it hits me... I started a blog a while back and rather than sit here and wonder what to do I could do something. I know, crazy thought huh. Work with me here. So I think to myself, "How does one find a lost blog?" The Internet is a vast wasteland of media and random blogs. Should I put up a picture hoping someone brings my poor blog home? Then it occurs to me. I'll Google some of the words I had in the blog title. Well that didn't work very well. Try Googling "ravings lunatic". Surprise! I'm not the only one. Apparently my title wasn't as witty as I had previously thought. Scratch that idea off the list. What else might work. How did I find my blogging engine? I Googled blog! *type into Google search bar*. Brilliant! Oddly enough I was still logged in.

So now here i sit with pen...err keyboard in hand, relaying how I found my sad little lonely blog that only I know about (I can only assume since there is nay a comment on my page). Why am I here you ask? (Well you didn't but my story requires I presume you do) I need distraction. My husband --previously mentioned, never named-- has angered me off to the degree that I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. Not because I did anything wrong but because I hope to convey just how infuriated I am with him. For those of you who aren't married, husbands know their wives are mad when they get kicked out of the room, they sleep with one eye open when the wife refuses to sleep in the bed. What ispired this wrath you ask? Well I have the good fortune of being married to a man who --by his admission-- is stubborn. Not normal stubborn but ridiculous, bang your face on things you're so frusterated, stubborn. If he decides the sky is green, and you point at the sky and show him it's blue, and ask all your friends what colour it is and they say blue, and you talk to sky experts and they say it's blue, he'll still insist it's green.

The man makes me boil.

Anyway, he INSISTED that I was doing something that I know I wasn't (not that it matters but he thought my finger was in my mouth, resting on my teeth to be specific, and I maintain it was not in my mouth). You cannot possibly know how infuriating it is to have this sort of conversation with someone.

"It was in your mouth"

"It was not in my mouth it was on my lip like this"*demonstrates thumb on lip*

"I saw it in your mouth"

"Well you saw wrong because my finger was near my mouth but it wasn't in my mouth"

"I saw it in your mouth"

"There is no way you saw it in my mouth. It wasn't in my mouth. I can understand how you might have glanced and thought it was cause it was near my mouth but it wasn't acctually in my mouth"

"I saw it in your mouth. I know what I saw. I'm not delusional"

Now here's the part where I, despite all that is stacked against me, resist the overwhelming urge to slam my face into the table. It's bad enough to know someone is wrong, but even worse when they will not even meet you halfway. Regardless, I am now mad, he is now sour cause I yelled at him, and my back will hurt in the morning because the couch is old and has springs missing. Tune in next time for the episode where we argue about who touched the remote last.

Sleep well and rave wise.