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    This is our corner of the Internet. We're happy here. We're definitely "we" -- this blog is a group project. We all post as "My Own". This is where we write the things we can't say on our own blogs for one reason or another. We hope you like it here as much as we do. We hope you'll stick around.


  • Ever since my son moved out, he's been acting like he was raised by wolves. He blows off family events with no explanation and without calling, he blew off my birthday without even an acknowledgement, and won't respond to messages (I know he's safe because his sister tells me she's had contact with him - he's just being an asshole to me).
    Now, I know that young people need to establish their independence when they leave the nest, and I'm not suggesting he should be dropping in several times a week to chat. After all, he has his own life, and I'm trying to respect that. But I ask the blogosphere - is common courtesy too much to ask? Especially since I'm still paying several of his bills?
    I have officially, as of this evening when I stood stark nekkid on the scale, lost 20 pounds.
    It only took me all bloody winter (the first 15 were easy and seemed to melt off... the rest I'm going to have to work for, I think).
    It's awesome, I'm happy with myself, but at the same time, I'm feeling secretive about the accomplishment.

    Probably because saying anything:
    A.) acknowledges I needed to lose weight
    B.) points out I still have a way to go
    C.) could 'jinx' the progress.

    But you know what, I tried on a button up shirt in a clothing store two weeks ago, and it didn't fit. I went back to that store today to return something, gave the same shirt the old college try...
    And it fit.

    I've not worn a button-up shirt (that wasn't several sizes too big) in ...

    Over a decade?

    It's like I've reached this weird crossroads though. I'm happy, I have 5 pounds to go before I leave the 200s behind...
    And I've wanted that more than anything... but now I'm kind of dissatisfied with it all.
    Men still look past me, and only see a chubby girl (I'm not completely thick, I know I'm pretty, but the pounds hide things).

    So now it's become, what do I want?
    What's a new goal?
    Should I be realistic and hope for 175 in the next year and stick there at what is basically the lightest I've been as an adult (and is totally reasonable and a 'comfy' weight for me)?
    Or should I actually try to be a fit healthy athletic person?
    I've always dreamed that I would be ... well... thin, I guess. I remember in high school wishing I could just get "back" to 140 -- and even then, that was the most active I'd ever been.
    And in this town, where image is supreme, it seems like that's what I should be going for.

    But it looks just so unobtainable.
    It's like rounding this this one little landmark just reveals a whole lotta road in front of me.

    And instead of being inspired, and invigorated...
    I feel overwhelmed and disappointed.

    I'm starting to think I just may never get married. May never find "the one" and may never have a family beyond the one I already have.
    It's not what I want. I want desperately to be in love again, but everywhere I look the people I meet aren't single and the people I once knew are getting married.
    At least I've not entered that "always a bridesmaid" cycle yet.
    But it's unnerving.
    It was one thing when the guy I had a crush on in high school married his sweetheart just a year or so into university.
    But it seems this is the summer of marriage for people I went to school with, and it's all just very bizarre.
    I've not even had SEX in 10 months let alone find anyone worth spending any real time with.
    It's depressing because it makes me wonder what is so WRONG with who I am that I can't attract even a semi-interesting, moderately good looking love interest.
    My dad calls upon me often to do him favours. I don't mind, really. I owe the guy my life so I'm happy to oblige in times of need.

    Today my father calls me and says he needs a huge favour. He had forgotten his insulin at home and he was already at the airport. He needed me to fetch his meds and bring them to him.

    Which I did. I dropped everything and flew out the door.

    After thanking me, my father tells me that if he wanted to, he had the option of picking up his meds at his destination at the local Wal Mart.

    I wonder if I just past a test and jumped up a few levels on my dad's love-o-metre.

    Or maybe he just likes to boss me around.
    Sent wirelessly from my BlackBerry device on the Bell network.
    Envoyé sans fil par mon terminal mobile BlackBerry sur le réseau de Bell.
    Why are the other mothers at our local children's playgroup so damn cliquey?  Actually they are more than cliquey- some days they are stuck up bitches.  But I smile.  Make small talk.  And think about how many more days until they move on to another town.

    Turn down-time into play-time with Messenger games Play Now!
    I was just pulled over for the first time.
    And I'm still shaking.

    It was stupid, it really was, and I know it. I had just submitted my information to change over my registration and insurance a week ago, and it occurred to me today, as I was driving home that I hadn't heard back from them. I started the process, but couldn't finish everything because my OLD old insurance company hadn't faxed over my driving/claims record.

    And as I left this morning, I saw my little green folio that holds my old insurance and old registration sitting on the counter, but forgot to put it back in my car.

    So when I saw a police car behind me on my way home (after a LONG day, I might add), I drove the speed limit (okay, 5-10 above, it would look suspicious if I didn't speed a LITTLE, right?). I didn't want to draw attention to myself.

    And when I saw those red and blue lights flash, I nearly had a heart attack.

    That heart attack nearly became a hernia as my first-time-pulled-over jitters made me stutter and shaky. That only made matters worse, because then I became convinced that it looked like I was lying, and got more anxious. That anxiety reached a tipping point when he told me I was going to get a ticket for something like 800 dollars for no insurance and no registration.

    So I did a little yoga breathing, decided the tax return I was going to put on a debt would just have to go towards paying a ticket, and really it was my own fault.

    I guess the guy took a little pity on me, or at least believed part of my story, because I only walked away with a 80 ticket -- which they'll cut down to 60 bucks if I pay it in the next month.

    I swear to god, if I ever really do something wrong, I would never ever ever hold up under any sort of interrogation.


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