Music

I’m realizing more and more that my music taste is all over the place.  From country to classic rock to gospel you never know what song is next on my playlist. Most of my music is tied to memories. For example, even though I’m not a huge fan of Katy Perry I love her song Roar. It always reminds me that I’m capable pod whatever I put my mind to.  Not just because of the cheesy lyrics but because it comes with a really good memory. 

Back when I was in high school I used to help out a lot around the school.  My school was helping to start an outdoor education program in our school board and so I of course ended up helping out.  Loving kids and the outdoors meant it was practically my heaven.  So lunch the one day, me and a few friends are hanging out having lunch when they start setting up a karaoke machine.  They wanted to have a little celebration at the end of the day for the kids.  We decided to have some fun and sing a few songs ourselves at lunch when one of the directors comes over and asks us to sing roar in front of all the kids at the end of the day. Guess he thought our little rendition of it was pretty entertaining.  To be honest, it really was. Me singing plus two boys getting way too into the background singing and the chorus. Their roars were very impressive, simba would have been proud lol. Those woo oh oh oh oooohs were one of the most enthusiastic things I’ve ever seen in my life. 

I was ridiculously nervous and probably would have said no if it weren’t for the guys talking me into it and getting pumped.  I’m really glad they did though because it has always been a dream of mine to sing in front of a crowd.  I’ve been part of choirs for as long as I can remember but I could never get the guts to do a solo.  This was my little solo in front of maybe 100 kids, a few other teenagers my age and some adults.  

It was amazing! My voice broke at one point and we were definitely more to the just plain funny side than talented but I had a ball.  To top it off one of the little girls came up to me afterwards and said I was the best singer.  In comparison to two boys yelling and making lion noises I shouldn’t have been surprised but it really meant a lot to me. 

Maybe my singing obsession is just another mommy issue I have because I do have a very distinct memory of me and my friend when I was maybe 10 where my mom complimented her on her voice and said she should be a singer when we were singing together.  In fact I have no memories of my mom ever complimenting my singing even though she would compliment other girls in my choir. 

Maybe I don’t have a stellar voice but it isn’t bad and plus isn’t that what mom’s are supposed to do, compliment you? Especially as a child.  But I’m realizing that in many ways my mom isn’t the best and doing what mom’s are meant to do, no matter how much she’s insists she is. 

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Music

I’m realizing more and more that my music taste is all over the place.  From country to classic rock to gospel you never know what song is next on my playlist. Most of my music is tied to memories. For example, even though I’m not a huge fan of Katy Perry I love her song Roar. It always reminds me that I’m capable pod whatever I put my mind to.  Not just because of the cheesy lyrics but because it comes with a really good memory. 

Back when I was in high school I used to help out a lot around the school.  My school was helping to start an outdoor education program in our school board and so I of course ended up helping out.  Loving kids and the outdoors meant it was practically my heaven.  So lunch the one day, me and a few friends are hanging out having lunch when they start setting up a karaoke machine.  They wanted to have a little celebration at the end of the day for the kids.  We decided to have some fun and sing a few songs ourselves at lunch when one of the directors comes over and asks us to sing roar in front of all the kids at the end of the day. Guess he thought our little rendition of it was pretty entertaining.  To be honest, it really was. Me singing plus two boys getting way too into the background singing and the chorus. Their roars were very impressive, simba would have been proud lol. Those woo oh oh oh oooohs were one of the most enthusiastic things I’ve ever seen in my life. 

I was ridiculously nervous and probably would have said no if it weren’t for the guys talking me into it and getting pumped.  I’m really glad they did though because it has always been a dream of mine to sing in front of a crowd.  I’ve been part of choirs for as long as I can remember but I could never get the guts to do a solo.  This was my little solo in front of maybe 100 kids, a few other teenagers my age and some adults.  

It was amazing! My voice broke at one point and we were definitely more to the just plain funny side than talented but I had a ball.  To top it off one of the little girls came up to me afterwards and said I was the best singer.  In comparison to two boys yelling and making lion noises I shouldn’t have been surprised but it really meant a lot to me. 

Maybe my singing obsession is just another mommy issue I have because I do have a very distinct memory of me and my friend when I was maybe 10 where my mom complimented her on her voice and said she should be a singer when we were singing together.  In fact I have no memories of my mom ever complimenting my singing even though she would compliment other girls in my choir. 

Maybe I don’t have a stellar voice but it isn’t bad and plus isn’t that what mom’s are supposed to do, compliment you? Especially as a child.  But I’m realizing that in many ways my mom isn’t the best and doing what mom’s are meant to do, no matter how much she’s insists she is. 

He laughs when I cry

He can always tell when I’m crying. Sometimes it’s easier when we are cuddled up on the couch and I soak his shirt. When we are on the phone he knows too. He knows when I am close to crying by just the sound of my voice, I didn’t even know my voice changed. 

Usually he gives a little chuckle and says “You’re crying aren’t you?” That’s for the less serious stuff, like sad movies or when I don’t even know why I’m sad.  But when I don’t even know why I’m sad is usually the more serious stuff for me. That’s then the sadness drags on for weeks because I don’t even know how to fix it when nothing’s wrong. 

Sometimes he doesn’t notice, like last night. When Tracy, or “the mom” on How I Met Your Mother’s boyfriend died at only 21 he thought I was just tired. But something like that hits close to home. 

I know I get my worrying from my mother and as much as I try it’s still there. Nights like tonight when he hasn’t answered his phone in hours when he normally takes minutes always make me think the worst for a second. I know he’s just busy with his business but I still have to stop myself  from wondering if he was in a car accident how long would it take for someone to let me know.

Accomplish

So I’ve been in a but of a funk the past few weeks. If you’re wondering what I mean, pretty much I’ve been feeling off, sad, just the kind of feeling where you have to fight to feel happy.  Even when you feel like you finally fought off the sadness it just seems to sneak back at night as if you never fought it off in the first place.  

What tends to happen when I get in this mood, because it happens every once in a while, is that I become a tad clingy with my boyfriend because he is great asst cheering me up.  Sometimes that’s all I need.  But I guess not this time.

I’m starting to realize that most of the time when I feel like this it’s because I feel like I’m getting nowhere, like I’m just spinning my wheels. I’m not accomplishing anything and nothing good is coming out of me at this point in my life. What good am I if I’m not masking the world a little better.  Which is a lot of pressure… and likely the reason this feeling is recurring. Because it’s not my responsibility to be constantly accomplishing things. 

On top of that, if I choose to accomplish things with my life then I can’t complain when I sit around like a lazy lump that I haven’t accomplished enough.  If I want to accomplish things I need to actually get out there and do shit. And when I do make the world a little bit better I need to acknowledge that. 

I will never be useless because I will always be capable of making the world better.

Starting

So my boyfriend has started watching How I Met Your Mother, which has been great since I love that show. What makes it even better is that it gets me out of watching the last few Adam Sandler movies that are left on Netflix.  Trust me, some of those movies should not have been made. 

So we are watching HIMYM tonight and it’s the episode where Ted is trying to start his own architecture firm.  Pretty much he spends the whole episode trying to get every detail right instead of phoning clients.  He eventually admits to Robin that he is just so scared to get something wrong.  He almost wants to never start so that he can never fail.  Which sounded super corny then, and I’m sure sounds just ambit as corny now, and yet I do the sane thing all the time. 

He’ll ice even been skiing it with this blog.  I think about writing almost every night but decide I’m too tired and it wouldn’t even turn out good.  I’ve done that for months.  Seriously, look at the date on my last post and you’ll see. It’s pathetic. 

So, I’m back. I’m writing and just like before I’m not afraid of the little mistakes.  If you worried about every little think you didn’t know how to do before you started, you’d never start. 

Anyone that ever accomplished anything, did not know how they were going to do it. They only knew they were going to do it.

– Bob Proctor

Turning Around

Have you ever felt like everything is just wrong. Your job, your house, your family. Just everything. Maybe you even thought other parts of your life were great. Like your vacation, that was going to be amazing. You couldn’t wait for it. But then its like the poison that has seeped into your life somehow messed that up too, to the point you barely enjoyed it.

How does that even happen? I think sometimes it just does, but it’s up to us how long it hangs around. Now please, dear God, learn from my mistakes and don’t let yourself mope around with that attitude for a month like I did.

Today, the fog lifted. Not even joking though there was so much fog tonight and it was beautiful. I let myself enjoy it. I took the long way home and enjoyed every beautiful minute of it. I sat outside and read even though it looked like it was about to downpour and enjoyed every last drop of sunshine. I went for a walk around the block for no reason other than I felt like it and out of nowhere, between houses I saw a deer. Then not two steps later the cutest raccoon. And right after a bunny. And I’m talking I’m in a random neighbourhood in Toronto where there should not be deer. And then not two seconds after these other animals literally house after house. I’m describing it horribly and you’re probably thinking big whoop she saw some animals, but for the first time in a while I was finally feeling like I was in the right place at the right time.

Normally, I would take the ugly normal route and let the storm stop me. Normally, I wouldn’t go outside cause it looks like it’s going to rain so what’s the point? Normally, I wouldn’t take a random walk in a boring neighbourhood. But today I said screw it, normal obviously isn’t working. I need to stop finding excuses for why I can’t do what I want, or enjoy myself, or be happy.

Nuclear

So I live right near a nuclear power plant, I’ve lived near it my entire life. My dad has worked there and very soon I’m going to be working there. Normally I don’t even think twice about it. But I’ve got to admit that when they test the alarm system it kinda reminds you that nuclear power plants can be dangerous. 

It was just going off two seconds ago and I knew it would because they had left a message on every phone around here about it. Weird part is the thing wasn’t even that loud. Like quiet enough I definitely could have slept through it, which is very reassuring in the case of an emergency. Maybe the joke my dad’s always saying about how we are in the fast fry zone has more truth to it then you’d think. 

Another thing I’m just realizing is I have no clue where the alarm sounds came from. Its not like there are big megaphone around here our anything. I’ll give them that, they hide their sounds system well. Honestly its just a normal neighborhood around here. If it wasn’t for a giant power plant beside our beach you wouldn’t even know.

You probably think I’m crazy if you have no experience with nuclear energy. But I promise I didn’t drink any cool aid. Thing is you can’t constantly think about it and it really doesn’t affect your life that much. You get used to having a big hunking power plant there.

Plus you may not realize but people who fly often tend to get more of a dose of radiation than a lot of workers at power plants. Same for people who get a lot of CT scans and X rays. Heck eating a banana even gives you about as much radiation as I get from living near a power plant for a year. So before you think I’m crazy for being so calm just look this image over.

If you have any other questions about nuclear energy just ask. But please dear God do a little more research before believing the publicity stunts that go around telling you it’s all bad. Nothing is all bad.

Future

Sometimes I wonder if there is something fundamentally wrong with me that I barely spend any time thinking about the future. When asked whether I spend most of my time in the past, present, our future, I answer past no hesitation and expect everyone else will too. See the thing is, is that I was wrong. Most people spend the majority of their time dreaming about the future.

I didn’t even notice until my first boyfriend asked nude what I dream about and I couldn’t think of a thing. I had to really shit there and think before I came up with a few small dreams, which in his opinion barely counted. But I must not be that messed up because he’s still dating me three years later. And he is definitely a great balance for me because he thinks enough about the future to compensate.

I got thinking about all this because of a book I’ve started reading, Stumbling on Happiness. One of the chapters was talking all about Phineas Gage. Ever heard of him? No? Well if I describe him as the guy who got a pole stabbed through his head and lived does that help you ring any bells? 

See in the book he came up because he was a big part of the reason that doctors believed that the front part of your brain doesn’t do anything. Which is kinda hard to blame them when you think that a pole went front his cheek to the top of his head and he was still fully functioning the rest of his life, although supposedly he had some major personality changes.

Anyways, that belief that the front part of your brain didn’t do anything led to lobotomies being performed. Because removing the front part of the brain shouldn’t do any damage if it doesn’t do anything anyways. But it turns out it does. Initially they only noticed that it reduced anxiety and therefore thought it was great. But eventually they realized that it completely gets rid of the human ability to plan and dream about the future. 
When someone who had lost the front of their brain was asked what they would do later they did not have a clue. They even described thinking about it as being asked to find a chair in an empty room.

This is definitely my anxiety talking but i wonder if it’s possible to have a smaller frontal brain region than average. I wouldnt be surprised if I did. But I’m also reassured because anxiety is tired to thinking about the future so the very act of me thinking and worrying about this shows that my prefrontal lobe is alive and well.

Corny

Realistic. Cliche. Plausible. Why do we even use these words. Let’s be honest, I do too. I’m always saying how things sound corny and so they aren’t as nice sounding. It drives my boyfriend crazy. But honestly what are the purpose of these words.

When we read stories we have our own worldviews and perspectives which skew them in our own way so how are we to say if a story is unrealistic. Why does it even matter if a story sounds cliche.

If you have two real stories side by side how can one be less plausible than the other? Maybe it’s not that either is more plausible its that we cannot believe other truths than what we know. 

I’m starting to realize that the level of cornyness I percieve has nothing to do with the level of truth things hold. So whats the point of even observing the cornyness?

Researching Toads

​By 1984, I’d been avoiding my novel for a year or two. It seemed to me a risky venture. I’d read extensively in science fiction, speculative fiction, utopias and dystopias ever since my high school years in the 1950s, but I’d never written such a book. Was I up to it? The form was strewn with pitfalls, among them a tendency to sermonize, a veering into allegory and a lack of plausibility. If I was to create an imaginary garden I wanted the toads in it to be real. One of my rules was that I would not put any events into the book that had not already happened in what James Joyce called the “nightmare” of history, nor any technology not already available. No imaginary gizmos, no imaginary laws, no imaginary atrocities. God is in the details, they say. So is the Devil.

-Margaret Atwood

If you haven’t heard, Margaret Atwoods book, the Handmaids Tale, is being made into a tv show… on Hulu :(. Cause honestly who even has hulu. But if you’ve read the book then you are probably excited like me about the fact that it even is getting a show. I swear I’ll find a way to watch it. Got to make a friend who uses hulu.

But that is not what I’m writing about, that’s just how I found this quote. See Margaret Atwood wrote an article about the Handmaids Tale in the NY Times and as I was browsing around on the internet I stumbled into it. I left a link to it below if you want to read the whole thing. The super long quote i took from it which is above is what really hit me though.

See I want to write a book, as I’m sure many many of you other bloggers out there do. Thing is my original story idea had magic, and curses and all this crazy stuff in it. So even though I had a gut feeling about it being the book I wanted to write, I left it. I wasn’t happy eith what it was about so i just gave up for a good while.

That is I gave up until recently. I decided to take another crack at it recently and started trying to find out a way to translate the core of my story into the real world. It was like a puzzle or maybe more like a balancing act. I wanted to leave the main parts the same whiel at the same time stripping it of all its magic and giving ut more meaning. 

I finally figured out a way to do that but now I feel all the pressure of researching the millions of things that I don’t know about. Everytime I think of writing I realize yet another thing I should research first. Not that I hate research or anything. It is just I want every detail to be perfect before I start writing.

I’m just so busy trying to get all the toads in my imaginary garden to be real. Margaret Atwood gets it. And if she can get stuck for years stubbornly planning a book and have it turn out absolutely amazing then so can I. Looks like I’ve found a new role model.