Thursday, October 28, 2010


As if I needed any extra help in realizing the realities of my situation, Mr. Handsome recently decided to make things clearer for me.

Me: You know, I am finally seeing a big difference in my strength. It took long enough, didn't it, for my work-outs to make a difference?

Mr. Handsome: Not really.

Me: What do you mean, "Not really"??? Sure it did.

Mr. Handsome: What I mean is that you forget that you've been out of shape longer than most of your classmates have been alive.

Touche, dear, touche.

Monday, October 25, 2010

I'm Cinderella

Oh, hello there. Me? I'm fine. Still alive, yes. Thanks for asking.

Despite my super-human strength, and abilities beyond any other human's, I too have failures. Yes, it's true. My failure is not keeping up this blog. Oh, and maybe never seeing my family, not getting enough sleep, barely eating, and perhaps having really bad gas -- if you are one of those people who see bad gas as a failure. I see it as a major success.

Anyway, the weeks go on, I keep stumbling through, bringing my head up for air every once in a while. I've turned into a mole (or a vole, depending on which one you think is cuter), and in rare moments, I bring my head to the surface and -- oh, hey!! what happened to all the leaves on the trees?! And why am I so cold??

Yeah, that's basically my life now. Not complaining, just explaining.

Mr. Handsome was out of town late last week AGAIN, so I had the kids to myself. Of course, I was a bit concerned, seeing as I had a ton of work to do (nothing new THERE), but I was also secretly very happy, because it meant actually seeing my children, whom I haven't seen in what seems like forever. We went out for a nice dinner and we talked, and played, and just had fun. It was awesome.

Saturday morning, we all got up extra early to go to the 3D IMAX movie playing across town for which we got some free tickets. Excited? A bit. I was just totally surprised both kids were up. Off we went, half asleep, the first ones at the theatre. And then, the manager announces that the stupid movie feed won't function. Really? Not funny, people. Not funny.

So, no movie, but we got free movie passes out of it. Then we did the breakfast at McDonald's thing, which wasn't all that bad. So, all in all, quite a lot of bonding occurred, which was badly needed at my end, anyway. I miss my kids. I miss my husband. I miss just sitting around, having some time on my hands to talk, to see friends, to just be.

But, it's back to the grindstone. It's almost like I'm Cinderella, and school is the wicked stepmother.

Monday, October 18, 2010

A post whereby I talk about absolutely nothing that has anything to do with anything else in the post

Well, I believe this is the first time in the history of this blog that I've only posted once in an entire week.

I've gone from posting pretty much every day, to four times a week, to three, to two, and now one? Of course, I have good reason, and I know all of you know what it is. 

Where was I? Oh yeah...

My readership is going downdowndown, my Alexa rating is dipping, I have nothing to talk about anymore except how much work I have to do and how much Mr. Handsome likes to see me in a uniform, and lo and behold, my third blog anniversary is just around the bend. Six days, to be exact. If anyone cares.

Which, by the way, I don't. Care, that is. Which is probably pretty obvious to everyone out there because I'm only posting once a week.

See how I did that? Made a complete circle, bringing the beginning around to the end and back to the beginning again? Clearly, I'm a writer.

Oh, and I also realized this past weekend that I actually married one of the mountain men out of the movie "Deliverance". Mr. Handsome's been wandering around the house all weekend with one of his front teeth knocked out, a la Mike Tyson. I can't look at him, although I just realized I've been kissing him quite a lot over the past two days, which I suppose just means I'm blind. And forgetful. And totally non-discretionary.

His cap fell off or something, so now Mr. Handsome has a gap-mouth, I write only lame posts once a week, and my blog is about to celebrate another birthday. Well, at least I didn't once again write about how much work I have to do, how I'm the oldest one in my class, or how we've run out of hair conditioner and I don't even have time to run to the store and get some more.

It's a wonderful world, isn't it? Well, it would be if I could catch one episode of Jersey Shore. I don't ask for a lot, guys.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Not Forgotten

Some childhood memories are never forgotten.

It is surprising that even what might seem like the most mundane, idiotic and immature of events can become such an ingrained part of who you become as an adult.

When I went back to college in September,  I had mixed feelings. Here I was, a middle-aged mom who's been out of school for 20 years, going back, knowing full well that my class would most probably be filled with nubile young things who thought they were pretty darn hot, smart, and amazing. I was scared. Scared of what they might think of me, scared they would laugh at me. Just scared.

I was also very excited to be entering a new and very big part of my life, a part that could make me a much happier, more self-fulfilled person, something I have not felt for a long time.

But, try as I might, those feelings of fear and insecurity kept looming up, overwhelming the excitement that kept trying to keep its head above water.

What it came down to, I finally realized, was that I was trying so hard to fit in, to be "one of them", and I was finding it very difficult, if not totally impossible. And it was bringing me down. Why? I had no idea. Why something as superficial as this would seem so important to me was beyond my comprehension. I was more evolved than this, I would tell myself. Get a grip.

However, those feelings of ostracization lingered, until one day it occurred to me: these emotions were so strong because they were the exact same feelings I had had as a young child in school. I was always the shy, gawky kid who was too afraid to stand up and be counted. I was different, and I was too afraid to just be me. Instead, I cowered in the back, waiting silently for anyone to notice me. Usually, it was the teacher. 

Oh, I had friends. A few, anyway. But it was always a struggle, a fight to try and remain "important" in their eyes.

Day-to-day living was hard back then. My home life was terrible, and I often wished to be anywhere but there. I had no safe haven.

As a result, I formed a sort of shell around my heart and soul, a tough skin that no one -- no matter how evil or rude -- could break through and hurt me. I decided to be who I wanted to be, and pretend the outside world didn't exist. That way, I could at least be a bit happy with myself, and not get hurt at the same time.

Of course, this type of plan is fraught with false logic. But it worked for me, for a long time. Years.

And that is how I survived. Through familial abuse, through loneliness and sadness, through depression. I had only myself, and I loved myself, although the self-doubt and fear were always looming in the background, always trying to scratch their way back in.

So, as before, once again, I survive. But, even better than that, I belong. I have put my self-doubts away in a back pocket, and I am fine to be who I am. And I am finding that that's okay. It's even better than okay. It's great. And I'm finding that, not only are my classmates accepting me, but I'm discovering that a lot of them feel exactly the same way I feel -- not belonging, wanting to belong, etc. 

Small world, isn't it...

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Stabs of guilt

Can't believe it's already the middle of freaking October, and by that I mean HOLY CRAP, TIME IS MOVING WAAAAY TOO FAST!!!

And then I ask myself, 'Poodle, how does this happen?' Does time actually go faster at various moments in the space-time continuum, or is it that my brain finally exploded and caused me to lose track of a few months?

I'm voting for the brain explosion, because that's how I've been feeling. There is just so much to do, and so little time for any of it. In fact, I feel totally guilty keeping up this blog because really? I should be studying. Or doing a load of laundry. Or buying a turkey.

Oh yeah. It's Thanksgiving this weekend. Awesome.

In fact, I LOVE Thanksgiving. One of my favourite holidays, because it's full of food AND PUMPKIN PIE, which has been my favourite pie of all time since I was in utero. Oh, and by the way, whipped cream just ruins it. You're welcome.

So, usually at this time of the year, I'm all excited about the prospects of eating copious amounts of perfectly-roasted turkey, mashed potatoes that have been mashed to perfection, sweet potatoes, parsnips, Brussels sprouts, and ye olde favourite: CRANBERRY SAUCE! It's also extremely exciting thinking about a long weekend, because we all need those.

However, this year, my weekends (long weekends included) are filled with nothing but studying. I knew things had changed when I was happy Thanksgiving was coming because it would give me an extra day to study for that week's courseload.

Sad, I know.

And yet, I'm plugging along, with nary a frown on my face, except when I really think about things, and realize that I have a lot of work to do, and not enough time to do it, and I haven't been able to enjoy the beauty that is Fall in these here parts of the country, and that I haven't seen my family enough (which makes me very sad, actually). Especially when I call Dee to see how his day was, as I sit in the hallway at school (STUDYING, what else?!), and he tells me he was stabbed in the hand at school by the class psychopath.

Well, that's just swell.

I wanted to pack up my bag and come home right then and there. But I couldn't. 

As it turns out, Dee was fine. However, I was not, and still am not. But it's something I'm going to have to deal with in one way or another because I (and my family) knew this was going to be the case going into the paramedic program. It's more work than two full-time jobs, so just grin and bear it, yo. MUCH easier said than done.

Meanwhile, I am going to enjoy this Thanksgiving weekend, and I know I'm making all of my American friends extremely jealous right now. Don't be envious. Just be thankful.

Monday, October 4, 2010

A nice way to be

I started writing a post the other day in the midst of my paramedic schooling fog, and then I had to stop because the dog screamed out in his sleep, and when I finally went back to writing it, I totally forgot what the hell I was writing about, and nothing I had written made any sense whatsoever, so I had to hit delete and here I am.

My brain is mushy, like a nice big pot of Kraft Dinner left on the stove just a tad too long. My needs are many, such as more sleep, regular meals, less stress, and more time with my family. But I'm not complaining, although I'm sure it sounds that way. In fact, I'm happy. Really, really happy.

This program I'm in is beating my butt, but it hasn't got me down. Well, it does at times, I won't lie. Like last week, when I had to redo a couple of tests because I didn't lift people properly. I am too hard on myself, and I know it, and yet, I continue the self-harassment. In the back of my mind, there's always this little voice saying I'm going to fail, I'm not good enough, I'm too old, what do I think I'm doing...

I tell it to shut up, but it continues to harp, slowly winding its way into the centre of my full brain, attempting to convince me to give it up and do something easier.

So, although I spend pretty much 99 per cent of my time either at school or at home studying or reading, I'm loving it. I go to bed at night exhausted and sore, my belly full of painkillers and sleep inducers. But I wake up excited, happy, wanting to go on, wanting to learn, wanting to do it all.

I haven't felt this way in a very long time, and I have to say, it's a pretty nice way to be.

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