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May 11 Moving OnFor various reasons, I feel that it's time to move my blog from MSN spaces, and try a new site. Check out my new blog at: http://darklightwrites.wordpress.com
I'm not importing the old stuff, just starting fresh. I'll leave this site active, but there won't be any new content added. Hope you check out the new blog. Yes, I will write there regularly. March 22 The Easter Bunny"The Easter Bunny isn't a real bunny," Valerie says. "It's just somebody in a costume."
"Yeah," agrees Isaac.
"Do you think it could be your mom or dad or Tony in the costume?" asks Granny.
"Nooooo," says Isaac. "The Easter Bunny only comes when everyone is asleep, so how could it be mom or dad or Tony if they're all sleeping." He says this in such away as to imply that his grandmother might be a few sandwiches short of a picnic for even asking the question.
Later on...
"I'm not sure if the Easter Bunny is a real bunny, or someone in a costume," says Valerie.
"It has to be someone in a costume," offers Isaac. "Bunnies don't grow as big as mom."
"Well, it could be a real bunny that's really nice," Valerie shoots back. "Mom, do you know who the Easter Bunny is?"
"Yes, I do," I reply.
"Who is it?" brother and sister ask in unison.
"Well, if I tell you, the Easter Bunny won't come to you anymore. She only comes to people who believe in her and don't know who she is."
"Oh, ok, don't tell me then," says Valerie.
"Don't tell me either," says Isaac.
Later still ...
"Daddy told me about the Easter Bunny," Valerie says.
"Oh yeah, what did he tell you?"
"That it's magic!"
I have a friend, a guy my age, never married, no kids. He has nieces or nephews, I'm not sure which. He told me he was going to spend Easter at his sister's place and would be buying Easter Bunny stuff for her kids. I related the Easter Bunny story from Valerie and Isaac.
He laughed. "The things kids come up with," then after a pause, "I guess I'll never experience that."
He seemed the slightest bit sad about it.
It's a beautiful thing, believing in magic. March 19 The End of an EraFor fifteen years and two months, I have been going to the same building every day. On Monday, I went there to work for the last time.
I could see the writing on the wall for a while now. A large project recently cancelled in our division, a move towards heading things out of the Belguim site. When I checked my email from home while on vacation and read the goodbye emails from colleagues affected by a reduction in force, I felt a certainty that I would be impacted as well. I have survived through many, many rounds of layoffs, never before being hit myself, nor thinking that I would be, but this time, I just knew I would be on the list. When I returned to work after vacation on Monday to find my phone dead and my email inaccessible, I knew it was time to start packing. My boss and the HR representative were most apologetic that I found out that way, but in a way, perhaps that warning made it a little better than coming in to think all was normal and then being hit with the news.
While I am not saddened by the loss of a job I felt no passion for, I still feel the impact of not being the one to end the relationship. Not that I would have ended the relationship -- the financially sound thing to do was to wait for the severance package, which is good. But still, not being the one to have made the choice stings a bit. And there is a small feeling of humiliation involved with packing up your things and moving out the building, knowing the colleagues you have shared space with for years are watching. The only time I had any difficulty with the news was when people around me started realizing what was happening and came over to say goodbye. I won't miss anything about the place aside from the wonderful people I worked with.
I am still coming to terms with this huge change, and feeling somewhat at loose ends. It's odd, having nowhere to go every morning. But over the last couple of days, an interesting feeling has been growing. Happiness. For the first time in my life, I can do exactly as I please. The severance package allows me the luxury of taking some time to think about my next steps. I look at this as a blessing and a tremendous opportunity to find a new career; one which I can be excited and passionate about. I have some ideas about where I want to go, and have even started taking some initial steps in the right direction.
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. February 06 Define MeFacebook has allowed me to conduct what I consider to be an interesting experiment. And speaking of Facebook experiments, if any of you have some pictures of WWJD, could you please send them to me so I can post them on Facebook without his consent to see if he really will hunt me down? Thanks.
 So, among many annoying things, Facebook has this application called "Define Me". Essentially it allows you to add this box to your Facebook profile where your "friends" can type in words that they think define you. I was interested to find out whether others perceive me the way I perceive myself, so I added the box and
I found this an interesting exercise. Would I define myself the way that others have defined me? In some cases, yes. I'm flattered by the words that people have used (farty notwithstanding). And yet, I can't help but be disappointed by the words people didn't use. However, if ever I decide to return to the world of online dating, I'll have additional fodder for my profile. January 31 It's OfficialI am divorced.
For those of you who may be wondering, the correct response to this news, in my case anyway, is "congratulations" or something along those lines. I wouldn't turn down an invitation to a celebratory margarita either. January 22 SmileSo, I'm walking down the hall/street/whereever, minding my own business, when someone tells me to "smile". This does not make me want to smile. In fact, when someone tells me to smile, my first instinct is to throttle them. Good thing I have some self control. At least in this area.
To all you "smile" nazis. What gives you the right to interrupt my personal space and tell me to smile? And what's up with all you people who walk around smiling at nothing? I think you're deranged. January 15 The Bed You MadeI was always one of those people who figured you had to live with the consequences of your actions. Anything else seemed to be the easy way out. In an unhappy marriage? Too bad. You made this choice and now you need to make it work. Divorce would be an admission of failure and just too easy. I thought that it was righteous, I guess, to be miserable for the rest of your life.
I have recently realized that it isn't righteous and it isn't necessary to be miserable for the rest of your life based on a choice you made. That we make mistakes and that in fact, sometimes things happen through no fault of our own. That it is possible to make another choice that negates a previous one we wish we hadn't made.
The most surprising thing about this relevation is that what I thought was the easy way out isn't necessarily easy at all. Making a choice not to be miserable (and by extension, not to make those close to you miserable) is sometimes the most difficult choice you'll ever make. January 08 AmbitionIn response to my previous entry about not making any resolutions, Jimmy commented "I hope you can keep it". I'm not sure if he was joking. Because, a resolution not to make resolutions is surprisingly difficult to keep. It seems that human beings are generally driven towards goal setting and achievement. Although I do know one or two people who seem to have no ambition whatsoever to be any different than they currently are. I find it ... curious. Perhaps they have just given up, they simply don't care, or they are one of those rare breed of people who are blessed with perfect self-esteem and feel that they really are fine just the way they are. Regardless, I just don't get it (kind of like dogs) while simultaneously thinking it must be a very peaceful way to be and wishing I could achieve it too.
It has occurred to me that setting significant goals, especially to achieve something with which we have little experience, is something like a running a marathon. Significant goals take a long time to achieve. And I further theorize that this goes against our evolutionary development. While we've evolved a lot since the cave days, I still believe we are inherently designed to be more like sprinters than marathon runners. Mostly, back then, we sat around conserving our energy for the sprints. We knew that soon we were going to have to hunt something in order to eat it, kill something in order to keep it from eating us, or run away from that which we could not kill. We might not be alive next month (in the event of failure to kill something, whether it was to eat or prevent being eaten, or maybe we just aren't going to be fast enough to get away from that next sabre toothed tiger). Long term goals were irrelevant.
Even today, life is really a series of sprints. Hurry up to get ready for work. Get through a bunch of meetings. Make dinner. Little mini-sprints throughout the day. Since we are inherently sprinters, when we try to do a so called marathon, we tend to break it up into sprints. We set little mini-goals. It seems quite sensible. Break up the big thing into little things. Manage the sprints, since we're good at that already. And yet, much of the time, we fail to finish the marathon. We never lose all the weight, we quit going to the gym at the end of January, we never quite pay off that credit card. Why?
Because though we break the marathon up into sprints, the ultimate goal is still the finish the marathon. Anything else is perceived by our conscious brains as failure. And somehow, that marathon goal just doesn't jive in our limbic brain, the part that thinks that we might be eaten by tigers tomorrow. If we might be eaten by tigers tomorrow, what exactly is the point in running a marathon that doesn't finish until next year?
What if we just abandonned the marathon entirely? What if we only worried about sprints? Would we be more successful in actually achieving our long term goals if we didn't set any (and yes I realize this flies in the face of all conventional wisdom on the subject)? Maybe instead of setting New Year's resolutions, we should set daily resolutions. It seems to me we'd have a much better chance of achieving the resolution we set out that very morning than some grandiose plan to go the gym at least 156 times this year (just looking at that in writing makes me depressed)! Wouldn't we feel imminently better about ourselves if we achieved a goal we set for ourselves every day? I'm starting to believe that much of my own unhappiness stems from the failure to recognize the joy in every day accomplishments. Always looking for the end of the marathon that we're pretty sure we won't finish is a pretty depressing way to go through life. I don't think I want to do it anymore. January 04 ResolutionsHappy New Year. This year, I make no resolutions. I have enough to feel guilty about without adding the weight of un-kept resolutions to the list. My continuing quest to understand myself, and the reasons for the behaviours I seem to keep exhibiting, in spite of the fact that I don't really want to exhibit these behaviours has led me down many paths. I have seen psychotherapists, naturopaths, hypnotists, neuro-linguistic programming practictioners, healers, and cranio-sacral facilitators to name a few. I have read books and articles on the subjects of changing behaviour and improving self-esteem. They all come back to a common thread. Chances are, when you were little, someone, most likely your parents, because God knows that parents will mess you up. So people are encouraged to look back at their childhood and un-tell the untruths that were told to them and accepted as actual truths. Things like "you're not good enough". Just for example. There are various methods you can use to go back in time, in a manner of speaking, and resolve the issues with these people. Some involve confronting them directly, some involve virtual confrontation. Mimimum effective response I believe Dr. Phil calls it. But here's the thing. I have no memory of anyone who really mattered ever telling me I wasn't worthy. Somehow, for reasons I don't really care to examine (because truly, what relevance do they have today?), I implied my own lack of worthiness. As an empathetic, perceptive child, I decided that the unhappiness of others was due to a failing in me. And so I wonder, what do you do when the only person you really have unresolved issues with is yourself? December 13 Divorce, in 3 (or 4 or 5 or 6 or 7) Easy StepsMy ex and I have decided to get divorced. I suppose we decided this by default on the day he told me he was gay, but for some time now, we've had the intention to make it official. Since we have no issues to resolve and no interest in paying lawyers exhorbitant sums of money to tell us that we have issues, we've decided to go the do-it-yourself route. We (or more accurately I, since if I waited for him to get off his butt and do this I'd be waiting until hell froze over), found an online divorce place called Untie The Knot. For the small fee of somewhere around $200, they will complete the appropriate legal paperwork for you. Divorce appears to go like this:
1. Fill out a huge form and send it to the Untie the Knot people, along with your credit card info.
2. A few days later, receive paperwork instructions from them.
3. Go to the courthouse to file your Application for Divorce:
a. Find parking at the courthouse.
b. Find the Family Law Information Center. Fill out some other form.
c. Sign your name at counter 7.
d. Sit down on the disgusting urine/vomit/splooge stained chairs and wait for your name to be called.
e. Eavesdrop on people's cell phone conversations while you wait for your name to be called.
f. Get up and check how many people are still ahead of you on the list.
g. Laugh at the lawyer who did not hear her name being called cause she was talking on her cell phone.
h. Finally, go up to the counter to submit the application for divorce. Have this stamped by the clerk and given back to you. Stare blankly at the clerk when she asks "how are you going to serve him?" (Thinking -- I served him for 14 years, I'm all done now.) Realize she means how am I going to serve him with the divorce papers. Ahhh.
i. Pay $167 for this privilege.
j. Pay $12 for parking and fight the traffic home.
4. Wait for 8 weeks.
5. Go back to the courthouse (with the ex) to file the Affidavits of Divorce:
a. Find parking at the courthouse.
b. Find the Family Law Information Center. Accidently sign the wrong sign in sheet and wait 20 minutes for nothing.
c. Upon realizing mistaken sign in, approach clerk at Family Law Information Center. Fill out more paperwork.
d. Wait for duty counsel to come out so the affidavits can be notorized.
e. Sign your name at counter 7.
f. Sit down on the disgusting urine/vomit/splooge stained chairs and wait for your name to be called. Listen to ex complain about disgusting seats. Tell him to quit being such a wimp.
g. Eavesdrop on people's cell phone conversations while you wait for your name to be called.
h. Get up and check how many people are still ahead of you on the list.
i. Threaten to rub ex's toque on the vomity chairs while he goes to the bathroom.
j. Dare the ex to remove all the mail from the 800 mail slots and start throwing it around.
k. Look at all the notices on the board to see how many people you know are filing for divorce.
l. Finally, go up to the counter. Listen to overly cheerful clerk go through a checklist for the judge.
m. Pay $280 for this privilege.
n. Provide self-addressed stamped envelopes so the court can mail you the signed divorce order. For $447, I would think they could spring for postage, but, not so much.
o. Pay $12 for parking and fight the traffic home.
6. Wait some more (we are now at this stage in the process).
7. Receive your signed divorce order in the mail. That is, if all goes well. Of course, I do not expect it to go well. Why would it?
8. Wait 31 days for the divorce to become official.
9. Go back to the courthouse for your Certificate of Divorce. Which will no doubt involve:
a. Find parking at the courthouse.
b. Find the Family Law Information Center. Fill out some other form.
c. Sign your name at counter 7.
d. Sit down on the disgusting urine/vomit/splooge stained chairs and wait for your name to be called.
e. Eavesdrop on people's cell phone conversations while you wait for your name to be called.
f. Get up and check how many people are still ahead of you on the list.
g. Finally, go up to get the certificate.
h. Pay $19 for this privilege.
i. Pay $12 for parking and fight the traffic home. So, if you're thinking of getting divorced in Ontario, there's your primer. Enjoy. December 04 Lost and FoundI wonder whether you remember the things I remember.
I could ask you now, but I am afraid.
Not of the asking.
But of the answer.
I wonder whether you remember the things I've forgotten. November 14 DreamsI've had strange dreams lately. I'm somewhat known for my strange dreams. Actually nightmares. I don't have them often anymore though.
The other night in my dream my left hand caught on fire. For no apparent reason, it just burst into flames. I didn't panic, I just decided to put out the fire. So I blew on it, but that didn't work. Then I tried to smother it, but that didn't work either. I let the tap run on it, which also didn't work. Then I started to panic. I think I woke up then. I also dreamed that I was living in the apartment that I lived in when I moved out of my parents' house. It was a cockroach infested one bedroom. In my dream, my parents and sister were also living with me. Some guy was living there too, but I don't know who he was. Well, in the dream I knew who he was, but he isn't a person from my real life, just a dream person. In the dream, I was sick or depressed and sleeping a lot. I woke up to find my mom vacuuming. I decided that I should move and went looking for a newspaper to look for apartment listings. I could find many days worth of newpapers, but the classified section was always missing. This seems to be a recurring theme in my dreams -- not being able to find or do something I feel I desparately need. Repeatedly mis-dialling the phone or having the phone not work when I need to make an important call, needing to pee really badly and being unable to find a toilet (or at least a toilet fit for human use). I suppose everyone has these sorts of dreams. I have long ago given up trying to analyze the meanings of dreams. I figure they're just a way to keep your subconscious busy. October 14 FearI am afraid of a lot of things. It's astonishing that I get anything done really, considering all the things I fear.
I'll give you and example. At the beginning of November, I will go to Shanghai for work. Now most people would look upon this as an amazing, possibly once in a lifetime experience. To go to a country so far away and so different from their own. I am pretty much petrified. I am scared of being in a place where I will have nothing in common with the language. I have such mixed feelings about going. I want to go, to see something I may never get to see again, but I'm afraid. When I've traveled in Europe it's always been to places where English was widely spoken, or at least the language had enough in common with English or French that I could get by. This will be different. I'm lucky, however, that my former boss is now living in Shanghai (I'm not sure I could overcome my fear enough to do that), so I will have a dinner companion for Sunday evening. That will make things much easier, since the rest of the week will be consumed with work.
I am afraid of a lot of things. But I do them anyway. You would think that this would make things get easier. But it doesn't seem to. October 06 Water and WillowsI have a thing for weeping willow trees. There is something about a weeping willow that draws me in and makes me feel calm. One day, I'd like to live in a house that has a weeping willow. It would probably have to be a big property since I understand that they have really invasive root systems which can wrap around plumbing and damage your pipes. But something about those trees makes me feel serene. It seems to me that one of the houses we lived in when I was a little girl had a weeping willow tree. I wonder if I just imagined that.
I often think that I'd like to live near the water. For some reason, being near water has the same effect on me as the willows. It calms me down, just to look at it, to hear it.
Maybe one day I'll be able to buy a big property near the water with a weeping willow tree in the yard. October 05 Remember I Told You to Mark the Date?October 27th starting at 5pm. We shall celebrate the auspicious occasion of my birth by deep frying some turkeys. All are welcome. If you'd like to come, fire me an email and I'll send you directions. September 22 I Have An AnnouncementI have completed my income tax returns for 2005 and 2006. Yes, I am aware they are well overdue. This has been hanging over my head for 2 years. No more.
I am so excited about this, I could do a little Snoopy dance.
Next on my hit list: filing for divorce. September 17 Woe is MeMy ex and I share custody of our children. This means that the kids live with us an equal amount of time and we share in all decisions related to their care & feeding.
When we first separated, we were on a week with him, week with me schedule. It worked ok. Then he proposed that we try a 2-day/5-day schedule. He had a colleague in a similar situation and it was working well for him. I was pretty skeptical, but like most things, you don't know until you try, so I agreed to try it out.
So now, I have the kids every Monday and Tuesday evening, he has them every Wednesday and Thursday evening and we alternate Friday, Saturday and Sunday. It works out quite well. The kids seem to do better on this schedule than they did on the full week (less stress when it's switch time) and they quickly learned which days were mommy's and which were daddy's. It also allows us to plan any activities we'd like to do, as we always have 2 nights a week in which we can participate in something without having to find a babysitter. <rant> I must throw in that if one more person at work asks me if I can switch days with my kids' dad in order to be able to attend early morning meetings on Tuesdays I will lose it. My kids come before work. Their schedule is important to them and I will not mess with it. Interestingly enough, probably the only person who didn't ask if I could make this adjustment was my most recent boss. Who left the company on Friday.</rant>
So anyway, mostly, everyone is happy. If we need to adjust for the odd random event, like a vacation or work travel, we manage that. If the kids have notice that things are going to change, they deal with it well.
There's just a couple of little things that bug me. The daycare my kids attend has a Parent's Night Out once a month during the school year. For $10, you can have your kids stay at daycare until 10pm. Gives parents a chance to get out and do something. It's always the 3rd Thursday of the month. Meaning I never get to take advantage of it, since the kids are never with me on Thursday night.
This year, at Valerie's school, there's an option to participate in a pizza lunch program. Once a week, the kids get pizza for lunch. Sure enough, on a Thursday. No break in lunch making for me.
Now, I know that I have it good. Many divorced fathers can't be bothered with their children at all. Many single mothers have all the responsibility for childcare, except for the every second weekend with dad situation. I'm happy that my kids have a father who is involved in their lives. Because caring for children on your own is probably twice as intense as with a partner, I appreciate the fact that I do get some downtime.
But sometimes, I can't help but feel put out that I never get to take advantage of these little bonuses. Why can't they do this stuff on Tuesdays? September 03 Voices From the PastNot so long ago, maybe about a month or so, I was on an outing with my kids when my phone rang. It was a number I didn't recognize, but I answered anyway (I am a savage call screener). And heard a voice I recognized instantly, even though I hadn't heard it in almost 20 years. I guess my letter reached it's destination. For a brief moment, I found Scott. I was somewhat shocked to hear from him, but at the same time, not. He could hear my kids in the background and asked me about them. "How old are they?" "What are their names? Tell me one of them is named Scott." For his part, he told me he had an 11 year old son, and another baby due in September. Different mothers. We couldn't talk much -- I was running around Storyland with the kids and my cell phone was dying, but he told me he'd call me back later that night. For some reason, I didn't think he would. He didn't. And I didn't try to call him.
Somehow, I thought that talking to him would make me happy, but it made me want to cry. I think it was the news that he was expecting a baby. I guess I hoped that he would be where I was -- alone. Perhaps I was entertaining some old fashioned, silly romantic notion that we would have one of those first love reunions that are always so popular in Harlequin Romances.
As I clean up my house, I keep finding odd reminders of him. Old pictures wedged into a photo album. Last night, as I took my grade 8 graduation certificate out of it's old frame, I noticed that there was an area at the back for classmates signatures. Second on the list was Scott, his name followed by "LF". Love Forever. The letters were intertwined with the bottom of the "L" making up the lower bar of the "F". Whenever Scott signed anything he gave to me -- notes passed in class, crazy letters after he moved, he would write that intertwined "LF" after his name. For the longest time, I thought it was some kind of weird "4". Then one day it dawned on me. Love Forever.
Of course I don't really believe that 13 year olds can truly be in love. Puppy love, they call it. But as much as it is possible for a teenager, I loved him. And I know that he loved me. I'm pretty sure I haven't felt quite that way about anyone since. And I'm almost certain that no one has felt that way about me. July 24 TruthOnce again, I find myself compelled to quote from Jann Arden's latest entry.
You can’t always write down what’s inside of you. It’s impossible to articulate every thought, every wish and every secret, desperate, prayer. And it’s even harder to convince people who are reading what you write down, that they may not know exactly what it is that you intended to express. Words are complicated little things. They have so many rooms inside of them, that it’s hard to know which room holds the real truth.
Often, perhaps more often than not, it seems to me that people do not understand exactly what I intended to express. This is the most difficult part of writing, because when it seems that people have not understood my intent, I tend to feel the need to explain further. And somehow, when you have explain further, the joy of writing the words is lost.
I am only just starting to realize that I don't need to explain. That people read with their own filters and those filters necessarily influence their understanding. I cannot change their understanding. Attempts to do so are frustrating and fruitless.
And I am just beginning to entertain the possibility that perhaps I didn't even know what I intended to express when I wrote the words. I just know that I am compelled to write them down. |
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