And now the sun's about to fade away

The has been a profound shift in some of my thinking lately. Not just about the ability to wear leggings un-ironically anymore. About outside. I KNOW RIGHT? We have been planning halfheartedly to do something with the prison yard* and this year we finally bit the bullet and found someone to build us a deck. And a new set of stairs. Ok, it was the stairs we really needed as our neighbour (whose back yard looks like a magical fairyland of awesome-but she did tell me yesterday that weeding that thing was "fucking awful") rebuilt hers last year and since they are attached. Well.. glargh. Also Lily dog can go down them without her back legs touching a single one they are so steep. And squishy. In a really bad way.

It's supposed to happen this week y'all. A DECK. At least it faces North so the dreaded yellow face won't be around too much. And now we have to outfit the fucker! It's gonna be bigger than my bloody bedroom. Which is not in fact, bloody. But holy shit outside furniture is expensive! And I can't find a swing that I like yet. Oh the trials of too much right?

Today is supposed to be 34 degrees (which is only 93 for you in the great SOUTH OF ME) and I am already sweating like a whore in church (miss you Dad) and I have an ingrown hair in my armpit, and I can't imagine being anymore uncomfortable (hi weight gain! fuck you!) but I'm sure I'll manage to feel it before the day is out. But not outside. At least not yet.












*the back yard. which is fenced with chain link and is barren of all goodness.

I walk the line

Lately I have been talking the talk. Out loud, to other people even. I have been buying clothes that fit and flatter. I have been posting body positive images and articles on my facebook. I have been taking back the words fat, chubby, chunky. I have been scolding my husband when he has moments of body image bullshit. Great right?

Until today. I busted out the scale and weighed myself and saw that all the weight I had lost, every single pound is back. I think I had held on to that last 5 pound ideal and it was allowing me to be OK with what I was. And that is fat. I worked so fucking hard to lose that weight. It was in a time when everything else was spinning out of control, and I was victorious in this one aspect of control. I looked amazing. Everyone said so. Then when things got easier, I eased up. I was getting scary skinny (even now the idea of that thrills me!) and had been told. So I let in some ice cream. My personal kyrptonite. And I evened out. For a few years I held on in this wonderful mid-weight status. Yet never feeling super comfortable.

Then the pain began. I really should preface this by saying I've always had back pain. And hip pain. And other pains, but for a while there, back when things were rotten I self medicated with a heaping helping of THC. In fact, I'd probably still indulge if it didn't give me the all-mightiest case of anxiety and paranoia. All good things must come to an end. So, when that happened, we after years of tests/chiro/physio/everything else, determined that I had the PAIN. Or fibromyalgia. Whatever. But it meant taking drugs that caused weight gain. And I'm embarrassed to admit I held out for months because of this. But in the end common sense, and overwhelming pain won out and here I am. It wasn't an easy road to walk, we had to tweak, change and mess around with the what feels like the giant handful of drugs I take everyday, and when we did I'd gain some weight. My Dr and I have have a pretty great relationship, he listens to me. And sometimes we conspire to see if I can lessen  any of the drugs I take. Then I gain weight. Then I gain weight.

I am straight up not gonna lie and be all, no I only eat fallen fruits and unicorn dreams. But I haven't significantly changed my diet except to eat more fruit (because I read on weight watchers you can eat all the fruit you want. FUCKING RIGHT?) and I eat more rice now. But it has been the same as the last few years.  I have been slowing down because PAIN. And I was ok with that. Until today when that scale was all..... HAI FATTY. The talk I've been talking doesn't feel like the walk I've been walking. I'm all BODY POSITIVE! ACCEPTANCE!! but I feel like a failure, cause my mouth has been writing cheques my ass can't cash.

licorice rainbows ain't always fallin' at my feet......

As part of my ever expanding list of hobbies/shit I like to do, I am trying my hand at some new to me stuff.

 It's pretty gratifying to pop out a finished product in an afternoon.

Of course I do need to mount them, and deciding on that is fairly tough, hence all the loose bits of paper all over the house.


I can almost feel spring on it's way. Despite the giant piles of snow that come and go, and the enormous amounts of little doggy foot prints that dot my white kitchen floor (again I ask, WHO THOUGHT THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA?) I can almost see the spring. We've kept our red Christmas lights up on our front window, and while I do love them, I think I need to pull them down and get something lighter up there. Oops, I just remembered, we bought new windows this weekend. And while they won't be in for 4-6 weeks, I reckon the lights should still come down and make way for a brighter room. Also: I won't be doing any window washing. Why bother?

Maybe next year .... maybe no go

How I love finding old music to revitalise my playlist (right now named kittykatboogie, fuck I have got to re-name that) when it gets stale. The whole Duran Duran catalog? Brings back memories of goofy dances and head movements not done since I was in gr 10. Muscle memory is pretty amazing isn't it? I'm trying to learn the concertina, and have learned 4 whole songs (terribly) that include such crowd favourites as Frere' Jacques. Don't expect my greatest hits just yet.

 Being alone is something I've been dealing with for sometime now. It's not usual for me to spend so much time by myself, Chris and I are constant companions. I know how lucky I am. I actually really enjoy my own company (and the dogs of course, they make me less crazy when I'm talking to them not myself right??) and have a myriad of ways to entertain myself. I love the thrill of new hobbies, the newness not rubbed off by familiarity. I have some new things I'm trying out (besides the concertina) to see what sticks. I do love my fibre stuff, but am having some RSI issues. Exacerbated by my gaming habit. I mean who the fuck gets video game elbow? Me. le sigh.

I've discovered I love reading crafty blogs, I have even got a little book beside the compy to write down the stuff I want to copy/imitate/rip off so I don't forget them. It's even more awesome when I remember actually to use it

I'm having some fibro shit lately, and some things my sweet seeester in law calls "stinkin' thinkin'" are creeping around my mind-head-brain. I'm doing my best to kick them to the curb and an infusion of 80's tunes is a good non-medicinal way to start. Blargh I am tired of this whiny bullshit.

This year I am intending to keep my hair one colour for the whole year (not done since I was maybe 13 or 14 SO LIKE 30 YEARS OMG OLD) so I have wisely chosen pink. It's fucking amazing how many people feel the need to comment on it. Little old ladies LOVE it. Like I had a rinse accident. People who I never would have thought, come right up to me to tell me how much they like it. Never a bad thing to get strokes from strangers. DIRTY. Also, I'm trying to keep a gratitude journal beside my bed. Every night I force myself to write something that I am thankful for/is awesome/why my first world problems are so truly minimal in the grand scheme of things. Some nights are much harder than others to actually find something. I need some re-assessment skills stat. :/

Happy Valentines Day to everyone who reads this. Remember that you are loved, you are beautiful and you are amazing. You really are.