The Animals Hate Me

I was in Montreal, Quebec for the weekend.  It was a surprise trip for my husband and I had been saving all my money to make it a fun, romantic experience.  I just wanted us to have Christmas of our own because his mom has a stranglehold on the holidays.  Because my nickname is "Ang" we called it Angsmas and will henceforth be having Angsmas every year.

While we were there, I found the biggest problem for me was binge eating.  I was going to allow myself to go way over my calories because I figured there was no holding back, it's ANGSMAS!  So the first night, I cheated my veganism and had a flatbread that had a little bit of goatscheese on it.  I felt guilty, but not terrible.

Then the next day,  I ate poutine aka: the least vegan food on the planet.  It's not even vegetarian because it's slathered in gravy.  But I ate it and loved every delicious mouthful.  I felt so guilty about it later but just kept saying shit like "well,  I can have ONE meal a year.  It's not even meat, it's just a little bit of juice and thickener".  

Then my stomach exploded and I drunkenly lay on my bed crying that the animals hate me.  And I started thinking about the poor cows that made the cheese and got turned into gravy.  Then I felt bad about the goats from the night before.  I am too much of a bleeding heart to ever do anything like that again.  I just can never do it again.

I don't want the animals to hate me.

Sorry, did I ask for your opinion?

I find it really odd that I get so much criticism about my marriage.

I am really happy, I love my marrige and I adore my husband.  We're newlyweds, things aren't perfect, but what relationship is?

I have one friend that thinks because we're not doing it like rabbits, our marriage must be bad.  Obviously my decision to marry this person was wrong.  Who could marry someone who didn't hump them like a dog in heat 24/7?

I have a coworker that is convinced that you should never marry anyone you've ever broken up with.  I have to say, lots of people wouldn't be married if tht were the case.   I'm GLAD Matt and I had some time apart for a while.  He was 21 and had never dated, I was 23 and had been round the block a few times.  We weren't in the same place in life. We needed a little time, and now we're awesome.

I don't know, it just irritates me a lot.  Do I not sing his praises enough? what am I doing to make people think this?

Then again, as I'm writing this I'm realizing all my critics are in their 30's and single.  

Figured it all out...

So my last rant was a little harsh.  I was furious that everyone who wanted to change their life gave up. That I was the last one trying and I wasn't sure why I gave a damn anymore.

So I went to boxing and was cheered on by my fellow classmates.  They stopped what they were doing and yelled, clapped and counted me down when I was ready to fall over and die.  They gave me high fives and slaps on the back.  They gave me hugs and they gave me support.  

Then I went online and found dozens of people who always gave me tons and tons of support.  Always there to cheer me on when I did my weigh ins and posted my little victories.  

So now I weigh 249 lbs.  That's 48 lbs down from my heaviest weight.  It's 89 lbs away from my goal weight of 160.  A very HEALTHY and ATHLETIC 160.

I'm going to run a marathon in October 2012.  That's my goal. I want to run a whole marathon and I'm going to start training myself to run this spring.  I'm already building up my cardio with boxing, so I'm getting there.  

I am unstoppable.  I am going to do this.  I will be an athlete.  I will be a goddess.

I am strong.

Angry and Alone

I'm starting to get really fucking sick of everyone in my life who can't see anything through.  I can change my life for MYSELF, but it's hard to stay inspired when everyone around you cops out and fucks off.

My workout buddy is all talk and no action, my mother is a wishful thinker with no ambition, and my husband? Well, he's another story entirely.  He's just a lazy guy who stays inspired to do something for about 30 seconds. 

Whatever.  

I am a strong person.  I went fucking VEGAN.  If anyone can stick to anything, I have proved it is me.   I'm going to kick ass and take names, and if that means that I leave everyone behind in the process, that's their own goddamned fault.

Athlete

I am going to be an athlete. In three years, I am going to run a marathon. I am going to be fit, and firm and strong. I am going to be envied and admired.

I will be awesome.

I know under all this crap I'm an athlete. Under the layers of fat and grossness. There's a muscular girl, a powerhouse.

I will rule the world

Tradeworthy!

I went to the Apprenticeship Connections conference today.

I am going to be a welder. No doubt about it.

Ethical Welding

I'm wondering exactly how my ethics are going to factor in to welding. I cannot for the life of me find non-leather work boots that are CSA rated. I've also read that synthetic welding gloves have a nasty tendency to melt.
I stopped eating meat because it made me sick, but it's hard not to get sucked into the vegetarian lifestyle. I really do not want to be surrounded by dead things. I don't want to touch dead things. I just simply do not want to be a consumer of dead things.
I for some reason might be more willing to accept having a dead animal on my feet than on my hands, but I'd rather have neither. I find it really hard to believe that there isn't a demand for synthetic options. It makes me angry.

Seven Changes

They say you'll change jobs 7 times during your lifetime. I think one of my seven times is now.
My company is screwing me over and not paying me out the commission I deserve. Now one of the school boards I work with has dramatically slashed their budget. This means that the highest producing part of my route is now the lowest producing part.

This also means that I'm basically going to be surviving off my hourly wage. My hourly wage is so low, I would be earning below the poverty line. My commission is what keeps us afloat and keeps us comfortable.

Even if I somehow manage to keep my job, which this one school board essentially jsut rendered obsolete, I won't make enough money to live.

So I'm going to welding school. I'm going to sign up and start in January and be done in April. I'll start an apprenticeship as soon as I can and be ready to go

An honest days wage for an honest days work. That's all I want.

My Stalker

I have a coworker who's a little bit off.  He's a smart man; a composer, a talented musician and a technician.  The funny thing is, he is definately a little... weird.  He can't understand social cues at all, it seems. He'll start a conversation with someone and they will continue to work because they are busy.  They will answer him but not become particularly invested in the conversation.  He doesn't understand and goes on and on and on.  He will, in fact, follow someone around and talk to them the whole time.  

For the past year, his person of choice is me.  I hadn't noticed, really.  I was always really nice to him because he was a genuinely good guy and I recognized that he wasn't wired quite right.  Some people avoided him, but I was kind to him always.  It's just in my nature.  Now he follows me. 

ALL THE TIME.

He waits for me outside of the loading dock so he can have his chat.  I can have the van door open and have one ass cheek on the seat and he will come over and talk.  He'll say "I should let you go..." but then he talks again.

This can go on forever. Nowhere is really safe from him.  People at work have noticed that he follows me like my shadow. My very, very tall shadow.  He's started watching the t.v shows I watch and listening to my radio programs so he has thing to talk to me about.

He knows I'm married (happily) and I don't THINK he's interested in me, but I'm not sure. Sometimes it seems like he admires me eerily. He always tells me how good it is that I've bought a house so young. That I'm so responsible. He "forgets how young" I am.

It's gotten creepy but I don't know what to do.  I've seen him lose his shit on people and completely ostracize them, and when push comes to shove I need him to do his work so I can do mine.

I'm a little creeped out.

Dead Leaves

I love the smell of fall. Dead rotting leaves and damp earth smell delicious.   I love pumpkins, spices and hot apple cider. I love wearing sweaters and jeans.  Sleeping with the window open under tons of blankets.  Orange, red and yellow everywhere.  Squirrels frantically collecting food for winter.  Lighting candles for that little bit of warmth and glow.  

Oh, I love it. I love it so much.

I wish it could be fall all the time... I even love cold autumn rain

Not taking it

I'm not taking anyone's shit anymore.  I'm really not.  I told my mother in law what I thought of her attitude today, and it felt good.  I'm going to tell everyone else when they're stepping on me too.  Not bitchily, not evilly, just bluntly.  Frostily, perhaps, but nothing more.

I'm going to speak my mind and everyone who doesn't like it can leave. I don't owe anyone anything but the truth.

And the truth is, I'm sick of everyone's crap.

Livid

Yesterday I met a client that had taken over at one of my schools.  I got to her class just before it started (the kids were coming in, but they were still sorting themselves out). I introduced myself, gave her a catalogue, a calendar and all the things she would need to be a client of mine (well, technically the SCHOOL is the client but the teacher facilitates it). 

Anyway, she asked me to come to meet the teacher night at her school "in case" some kids wanted to rent instruments. I explained that the company discourages us from doing Rental Nights during other school activities.  There's too much going on at the school and you don't get any serious customers.  We need a dedicated evening to explain the process and answer questions to a group all at once.

She said she understood  Four hours later she sent me an email telling me that she already told everyone I'd be coming October 8th at 7pm. She was sorry she didn't know I wasn't "keen" about it.

She didn't ask anyone at the store if I could do it. Then she asked me, I said no, and she did it anyway.

Fucking bitch.

Romantic Evenings

Matt and I didn't get a vacation this summer. With the deaths among friends and coworkers, illnesses and everything else, we didn't have a chance.

So we're going on a dinner cruise in Bracebridge.  A night where I can wear a real dress, and he can wear a suit.  We will have dinner on the water and dance into the evening.

I'm so excited to have a real husband and wife night out.  I can't wait. Oh, I can't wait.

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!

Anyone who says they don't work for the money is full of it.   I think working is about making money, and money allows you to live.

Work to live, don't live to work!

Thus, when I found out that a local jewellery store is paying $80-120k a year for salespeople, I brushed off my resume.

Sure, I'll miss the fun of driving around all day, but for 80k I would do damned near anything.

All Hallows Eve!

Usually on Hallowe'en, Matt and I don't do anything.  Last year our friends invited us out last minute and we scrambled through my dad's work gear to find some last minute costumes.  It wasn't the greatest outcome.

This year, we will actually do something good!

Matt is going to go as Flavor Flav, which is hilarious because he's so white he's nearly transparent. He'll be wearing the big clock necklace, fake gold grill and viking horns.  It's going to be fabulous.

I am going to be a jellyfish.  I have decided that it is a very random and easy to make costume that should be easily recognizable.  I'm kind of excited.  YAY JELLYFISH!

Dear Penningtons

Thank you for carrying bras with a cup size larger than a DD. As I'm sure you are well aware, it's nearly impossible to find such sizes outside of expensive boutiques. I have been buying bras from you (and your sister company, Addition-Elle) for years. What I'm wondering is exactly WHY you decided to discontinue any band sizes under 40. 40... are you serious? Exactly how can you justify carrying cup sizes as small as a B, but no band sizes under a 40? That's INSANE. Not all well-endowed ladies are thick in the ribs! Where the hell am I supposed to find my bras now? Do I have to frankenstein your cups onto a La Senza band?

I saw a 46B today. 46B. How common a size could that POSSIBLY be? You carry size 12 pants, but not smaller bra band sizes. What would a size 12 WEAR?!

I'm pissed that I have a gift certificate for your store that I basically consider useless now.  I don't even want to shop at your store.  Next thing I know you'll be selling pants with a 54" waist and a 26" inseam.  Exactly WHO is your target market? 

Let me know when you figure it out.

Hurt

I was dogsitting for my mother and her boyfriend this weekend. My mother has the two dogs I grew up with,  Jack Russells names Cooper and Shilo.  Her boyfrtiend, Steve, has an old chocolate lab named Fletcher.  We (my husband and I) renamed Fletcher, Chesterfield.  This is due to the fact that he's the exact colour of brown as my mom's leather couch.  Chesterfield now responds to his new moniker without hesitation and he's a lovely old boy.

When I was dogsitting he wouldn't do anything I asked. He wouldn't go outside, wouldn't go in the basement where he eats and sleeps.  I thought he was being stubborn, I raised my voice at him. He just looked at me sadly.

By the end of the day yesterday I noticed he couldn't scratch his ear, and he could barely stand.  He was in terrible pain and he was favouring his back legs (both of them).  My brother and I had to carry him into the house because he couldn't even walk.  The poor guy, he's the sweetest dog ever and I had been cross with him for two days.  

Mom and Steve took him to the vet. He has arthritis, apparently so they loaded him up with anti-inflammatory and codeine injections.  He's lost 10 lbs of muscle because he can't exercise.  I love him so much, I can't bear the thought of him being in pain all the time.  The thing that makes me sad is I don't think Steve will ever be able to let him go.  They think he might be able to live another 3 or 4 years.  I wonder whether Chesterfield wants to live that much longer.

It breaks my heart.

Aggression

As much as going back to work freaked me out a little bit, I can't believe how happy I am to be back.   The normal bedtimes and wake-up times, the routine of packing a lunch... all that plus the physical exertion.  Running up and down stairs, across parking lots, carrying things.  Many things!

In five days of being back to work, I feel fitter, happier and much more focussed.

My life lacks focus. I think that's why work and structure are good for me.  I'm even more excited to start boxing classes.  I have a certain kind of competitive streak that is enhanced by agressive sports.  Soccer and martial arts always kept me fit and happy.  I can't wait to box.  Everytime I close my eyes I see my self gritting my teeth, grunting and slamming a gloved fist into a punching bag.  I think it's going to be pretty spectacular.  I can't wait to go and get my anger out, to work up a good sweat and to fall in bed exhausted.

I can't wait.  I hope I get yellow boxing gloves.

In the car with a killer

Last night I had a horrible nightmare that I was dating this new guy at work named Chris.  Chris is 35 and just recently moved back from New Zealand.  I find him odd but fascinating.

In my dream, I lived at my old house.  My parents were not divorced.  The whole thing felt incredibly real, and that's possibly why I woke up in a cold, terrified sweat.  

Chris met my parents and was introduced as "Chris Sweet" (later in the dream I somehow realized it was actually spelled 'Suite' as is "tout de suite"; French for 'fast' or 'quickly'. Actually, it really means immediately but I was dreaming so i forgive my poor grasp of French).  Regardless, my parents loved him.  He is tall, muscular and oddly good looking. He has travelled to 30 countries and speaks bits of many languages.  He is wordly and intriguing.  He passes their test.

We leave the house, and he starts to say things that scare me.  I don't even remember what they were, only that they were full of menace and I was terrified.  I tried to run from him and he told me he was going to go home to my parents.

My legs were like concrete... I think he's drugged me.  I can barely move, but I manage to run into the brush of the greenspace we're walking near.  There are houses on one side, so I drag myself through them.  I can't go to the front door, because he will see me.  I cannot get help, I'm too drugged to talk.  

Chris leaves.

I assume he has gone to do something to my family.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, but I can't press the buttons.  My hands are rubber and they won't work.  I try to voice dail but my words are slurred and messy; the phone can't understand me.  I'm crying.  I am so numb but I try to drag myself on, trying the phone over and over again.

I finally dial my parents number.  He answers.  I can hear him faking a side of the conversation, fooling my parents into thinking I am on an errand.  He whispers evil into the phone.  I'm crying.  Slurring and begging for him to leave them alone.  "Come home soon, we miss you" he says and hangs up.

I try to call everyone's cell phones, but nobody answers.  My house is 5km away and I can only crawl.  I can't find help, I am scared to come out into the open.

I call my house again... "hello?" says Chris.

I wake up

***

Today I had to drive 550 km with the man who drugged me and was going to kill me in my dream.  I thought I was going to vomit all morning, the sweat of the night before was out in full force.

The sad thing is, he actually seems to be a really nice guy. 

Life Interrupted

I had to sit Matt down to have a serious conversation about our lives.  I need to preface this by saying that I love him dearly, more than anything.  

As much as I love him, I want to smack him sometimes.  

We moved to Newmarket because I got a decent job in the area.  By decent, I mean I get about 14 weeks off a year and make pretty good money (for someone who has no university degree).  As good as my job is,  it's dead end.  I will not go up from here.  I am at the end of the line.  The only thing that would ever happen is I would get a "richer" route (which just means I would be driving in more urban areas. Eww).

I have no pension, no good benefits.  I don't know how I could ever really retire.  

Matt is the assistant manager for a video store.  Video rental business is going down the tubes.  He works terrible hours for not so spectacular money.

I sat him down and had the "5 year plan" conversation.

I need to go to school to open my own jewellery company.  We cannot live on his income if I quit and go to school.  Matt is the sort of person who is scared of change. As much as his job sucks, he is good at it and won't leave until it goes down the tubes entirely.

After a serious talk, he realized that it was true, he needed change.

So now he's going to be an electrician's apprentice... 

but he doesn't want to have to drive any real distance.

It makes me die a little bit inside.

Shiny Things

I've had many blogs over the years.  Blogs about angsty teenage thoughts and deviancy.  Blogs about trying to find my place and getting my life together.

Blogs about things that I like to remember, but not to be constantly reminded of.  I'm not sure that makes sense to anyone but me.  It makes sense though.  There is a place and time for everything.

Now is the time for life changes.  I always thought that I needed to change my life when things weren't stable; when I wasn't happy.  Now I realize that being unhappy was when I just had to suck it up and get through everything.  It's only now that I'm in a place where I can REALLY make the big changes I need that will last a life time.

I'm 25 (26 in less than a month).  My husband is 24.  We own a house, and a cat.

We're happy.

We just both realize that at some point we need to start implementing a 5 year plan.  Something that will make sure that we're going to STAY happy.  We need to just make sure we always have something to work towards. 

I guess that's what this blog will be about. 

The bits of string that pop up everyday, and the shiny things at the end of the road.