Category Archives: truth

Strong work ethic and stronger cough medicine

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The rattling sound in my chest is an inescapable reminder that I am still sick.  That coupled with the fact that I could pass for James Earl Jones on the phone have steered me from my objective of getting back to work and led me right back to my couch.

I have never in my working life called in sick to just have a day off.   I would never have been able to enjoy a day knowing that my colleagues were doing extra duties to cover my work load because I had lied about my health to have a day of leisure.  Even when I am sick, I have a hard time not going to work.  But this time I didn’t have a choice – this flu kicked my butt.

I worked a few hours on the morning of the 30th and went back in for a few hours on the 31st but my road paved with good intentions quickly became the road home and I spend the next two and a half days curled in the fetal position in my living room praying for the coughing to stop.  I’m not a whiny sick person but whatever this bug was proved that even the strongest people can revert to child-like behavior when they don’t feel like themselves.

Today, after feeling a tremendous amount of guilt for missing so much work, I dragged myself out of bed and made a valiant effort to forget that I am still sick.  I was shocked to open the door to a temperature of -34C.  After only a few seconds of vehement debate, my car turned over and I was on my way to the lodge.  I was greeted warmly by my coworkers until I opened my mouth and spoke a few words.  Their smiles turned to looks of fear and, as they backed further away from me, they all told me to go home.

sick

As much guilt as I feel for not being able to perform my job, my bosses and fellow employees made me see that I was doing them more of an disservice by being there and possibly spreading my germs.  Although I am past the contagious stage, I quickly heeded their advice and am now curled up on my couch once again with three layers of blankets and a hot cup of tea.

On a side note:  I should have realized how severe this flu was when I discovered I haven’t had coffee in four days!!

Last minute shopper’s lament

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I pride myself on being organized, I have lists for my lists, but this year something has gone horribly wrong and I find myself running around shopping for Christmas with four short days until the big celebration.

My Christmas shopping list, compared to previous years, is much smaller because we, as a family, have become financially forward thinkers and have realized that we do not need to spend money on unnecessary items for adults simply to have presents under the tree with our names on them.  Christmas for me is about spending money on my nephews and spending quality time with my family while the two boys sort through the mounds of gifts with their name on them.

I used to bemoan the gift card.  It always seemed so impersonal and last-minute, but the reality of the gift card is that the receiver of the gift card can buy what they truly want.  For the past few years my nephews have been big fans of the gift card – iTunes, trendy clothing shops and Golf Town are among the favorites.

gift card

Each year I strive to think of something that will parallel, nay exceed, the gift card but I come up empty.  As the boy’s interests morph into things that they feel strongly about it is becoming easier to think of gifts that will compliment those interests.  Sometimes the gift card is still the best way to go, especially when I find myself shopping a mere four days before Christmas, but at least I know they will buy something they truly want and I don’t have to keep the receipt for when they want to return that “cool” gift their Aunt bought them for Christmas!!

Are you a last-minute shopper?  Or do you start in June?

100 Word Song – I nearly lost you

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You left so quickly.  I didn’t have time to say goodbye and, in my misery and grief, I nearly lost you.  But your voice permeates my dreams.  The sound of your laughter echoes in my memory.  Those idiosyncracies that used to wear thin are now the moments I cherish the most.

A rider may have fallen, but the ghost of you still navigates those winding curves in my memory.  You will never cease to exist and, although I may have thought you were gone, you will always live on because I choose to remember you.

I hear your distant cry.

~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge – one of my new favorite challenges.  If you haven’t tried this yet, I thoroughly recommend it!!

My holiday spirit in two words

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Today’s world is a far cry from simple.  It is a labyrinth of cultures, race, skin color and vastly different systems of belief.  It is a melting pot of strong ideals and judgement and it is quickly becoming far less tolerant than it once was.

I happen to celebrate Christmas and in the process of that celebration I can be heard uttering two words that, although were once mainstream, are now, by some, thought to be completely offensive.  Merry Christmas.  Two words that contain the ideals of the child I once was and now hold dear the spirit of a celebration that I embrace.

I am not a vindictive person and, when I choose to utter those two words, I am not negating the fact that you may not celebrate this particular holiday.  I am choosing to share my love of the holiday season in my way.  I am attempting to insinuate my child-like joy into the moments of your day by choosing to wish you the best of the holiday season in a way that I learned through osmosis.  There used to be something exceptionally special about watching the joy spread by speaking those two words.  It was like watching a wave of true happiness spread from one person to the next.  Now, instead of riding that wave, it is more like treading lightly on the edge of the water ever mindful of sharp objects in the sand.

I have felt trapped at times, wondering if I should only articulate the two words that do not seem to easily offend, but “happy holidays” doesn’t encapsulate the true spirit I have at this time of the year.  Sure, it may be less offensive to some, but perhaps they don’t take the time to know the feeling behind the words.  By wishing you a Merry Christmas, I am merely saying that I want you to enjoy your way of celebrating as much as I enjoy mine and somehow inject some of my cheer into your day.

So let me throw caution to the wind and impart my holiday spirit to you on this Tuesday morning.  Merry Christmas to all and may the spirit of the holiday season, whatever your holiday may be, bring merriment to your smile and gladness to your heart.

(this is a blog post I wrote last year, but I felt it warranted being said again as we enter the festive season)

Tomorrow’s Outlines

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This is my first poetry duet with Hastywords and hopefully not my last.  She is truly a talented writer and beautiful person.  I’m sure you’ve already clicked follow on her blog, but if you haven’t you are missing out!

~

I found myself wandering aimless

between several different worlds,

in and out like a homeless ghost

my mind splitting, fracturing

and my perspective splintering

Lost in a cavern of realities

whispers of promise echoing

taunting, just out of reach

unsure of which path to choose

I float in a sea of uncertainty

bleeding colors

The colors of my past are bleeding

hiding lessons learned in a foggy gray

feelings and emotions are muddled

until I feel I may drown, breathless

inside all my lost yesterdays

The canvas of my life stares blankly

looking back at me with ambivalence

urging me to lift my head

beckoning me to not just tread water

but to thrive and embrace what lies beyond

Before despair takes me asunder

I focus only on paths ahead, determined

blurry lines begin to sharpen, harden

into black and white, new outlines

new paths, waiting to be colored in

~

(image credit: Stina Persson)

Freshly bathed in saline

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I am a churning pool of emotion.  I am one of those people who can put themselves in anyone’s shoes to feel the emotion that pulls on their heart-strings.  Sometimes it is a true blessing and sometimes the catastrophic emotional breakdown is embarrassing.  The control of the outpouring of tears in public has been much improved but behind closed doors all bets are off.

Empathy is a gift that I feel truly fortunate to have.  It is easy to be sympathetic and try to understand what another human being is enduring but to be able to delve into that raw emotion and feel the searing scars of that pain as if it were my own enables me to really reach out to that suffering soul and comprehend what they are going through.

That mutual experience of emotion, for me, is not strictly reserved for direct contact with another human being.  I experience the same overwhelming sensations if I am watching an emotionally charged movie, listening to beautifully composed music or reading a consuming book that drips with powerful sentiment.  Last night my face was awash with tears watching a simple television show.  I’m not sure what came over me but the story was deeply touching and as I felt the first tear caress my cheek I knew there were more to follow.

Perhaps part of my longing to write with such feeling is because I want the person reading to have the same experience I had while writing it.  I want the emotion that held my heart prisoner to be injected into the reader with the same paralyzing sensation that I so easily succumbed.  I can only hope that once my novel is complete, the characters that I birthed will be overflowing with angst, ready to cry on a whim and that I can somehow find a way to make those feelings jump off the page.

One part water, one part rabbit, one part nuts

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In the 1987 movie “Fatal Attraction” Glenn Close convincingly plays an intelligent, articulate career woman with a penchant for revenge when her love is unrequited.  This was a very politically correct way of describing the insane nature of her character.  Near the pinnacle of her breakdown, Alex, played by Close, breaks into the house belonging to the object of her obsession and basically makes a soup stock out of the family pet.  My friends and I would use the phrase “bunny boiler” for many years to come after seeing this film.

Alarmingly, they do truly exist.  I’ve met some of them.  Perhaps they were not pressured to the point of bringing a pot of water to a scalding boil and stewing the family pet but they seem to wreak havoc in their own mind-boggling ways.  Obsessive behavior runs rampant and the clear and decisive nature of a normal human brain becomes more of a chapter in a research book than anything remotely resembling their reality.

Instinctively, most men can spot these women a mile away.  When the behavior pattern of a woman deviates from her usual likes and dislikes to mirror his – he becomes moderately suspicious.  When she begins randomly showing up in places that he frequents or becomes obsessed with the hobbies or sports he is into – alarm bells begin going off at top decibel.

I have always felt an inkling of sorrow watching these situations unfold.  Being able to remain rational during the beginning stages of a relationship while maintaining your sense of self is difficult.  Maintaining that rationale at the conclusion of that relationship is overwhelming, but it can be done.  Sure you may have wanted, with every fibre of your being, to be a perfect fit for the object of your affection but it doesn’t always work that way.  Relationships are about learning more about yourself and being able to blend your strengths with another person.  Giving up your interests to absorb theirs will only make you lose yourself in the process.

If relationships were easy, we would learn nothing about ourselves and what truly makes us happy.  It is the bumps in the road and those unexpected detours that make us truly think about our ultimate happiness and how much of ourselves we are willing to lose on that journey to self-discovery.   The failure only comes when you are not true to your heart and true to your beliefs.  Becoming something other than your genuine self will only negate the process of discovering that true happiness.

I do believe that I have gained enough wisdom at my age to know when the subject of my attention has a vested interest in the qualities that I possess.  I have learned to be grateful for my wit and intelligence and I have faith that they are qualities that someone will appreciate as they are – not a warped version of them to blend into the color palette of their life instead of my own.  I have finally learned the value of being myself.  It took a while to get here, but the pilgrimage was worth the sacrifices along the way.

With that knowledge in hand, I can go forth into my next relationship knowing that I put my self-worth first and, more importantly, that their pets will be safe from harm.

A heaping dose of perspective

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Picture 260

(It doesn’t look like this now, but it will soon)

The Heaven’s have aligned and I am back home after twelve days of living in a hotel room with my puppy dog.  I can’t even find the words to describe how it feels to be home – and that is a first for me!

I ran the gamut of emotions while I was under that temporary roof.  I was grateful to have that roof over my head and friends who cared enough to offer me a plethora of living options, but my frustration was undeniable.  I’m sure the bureaucratic red tape at a certain energy company tangled the process and elongated my hotel stay by at least five days.  But, I digress.

I flipped the breaker myself earlier today and was warmed by the glow of light coming from my windows.  In the days preceding I had been stopping by to check the progress of the work and my house sat lifeless on my property.  No light emanated from my windows and it sat as a cold, empty shell where there once was life.

There is still a noticeable chill in the air, inside, but I am home.  All of my electronics work and nothing else was damaged in the ordeal.  The only thing I had to do was call Bell to help download the guide for my satellite to get it working again.  The lovely woman I spoke to was in the Philippines.  I’m sure you have all seen the news of the devastation in the Philippines and, while she was personally unaffected, members of her family have lost everything.  We had a very fortuitous conversation that allowed me to truly put my seemingly overwhelming problem into the perspective it deserves.

I still have a home.  I still have all of my belongings and I have a large collection of friends who would be there for me if I ever needed them again.  I didn’t lose everything.  I don’t have to wonder how I will recover from such a devastating loss and I don’t have to mourn family and friends who didn’t survive.  These last twelve days were really just a hiccup in my existence.

670,000 people are now homeless and countless have not survived in the Philippines.  It really makes my previous rants seem so selfish and I will keep those people in mind the next time I want to complain about an infinitesimal problem in my life.

Oh yeah, well wait ’til you hear what happened to me….

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Perhaps this is a rant or perhaps it is a series of casual observations that have manifested into cause for a blog post.  Regardless of the reason, these words interrupted my sleep and wanted to be written.

Each one of us has a collection of friends that is as diverse as the hues throughout the color spectrum.  And although we tend to gravitate to like-minded individuals, there are always the few friends that add the spice to our lives – those people who share similar interests but sometimes deviate so far from our idea of normal behavior that we simply shake our heads and wonder why.

During my 44 years on this revolving Earth I have met a myriad of characters – it comes with the territory when you work in hospitality.  But I have only experienced a few people who live their life by one simple standard.

keep-calm-its-all-about-me-3

(image credit: keepcalm-o-matic.co.uk)

Every story ever told seems to pale in comparison to what this person has experienced.  If you have faced medical issues, they have narrowly escaped amputation.  If you were in a car accident, they were extracted from an accordion, that used to be a vehicle, by two fire departments using the jaws of life.  You will never have one experience in your life that this person has not endured more suffering under the same circumstance.  There is no conceit involved.  They don’t ever claim to be the best at anything in their life, but they most definitely have encountered every situation in a more personal and more painful way.

Over the years I have learned how to spot these people fairly quickly.  They don’t tend to hide in a crowd for long and I have learned to limit my conversation about any personal issues for fear of hearing another calamity that is monstrous compared to my story.

Perhaps during my next encounter with one of these people I will suggest that they should live in a bubble!

Five Cold Toes (Trifextra Challenge)

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It lurks waiting for food,

never hiding behind a rock.

It has a certain penchant,

for neither pants nor frock.

It waits patiently in my dryer,

taking no more than a single sock.

socks

~

Written for the weekend Trifextra Challenge – It’s now time for some Trifextra fun. Thirty years ago, Roald Dahl published the book Dirty Beasts, a collection of poems for children about weird and wonderful animals. The last poem, however, is called The Tummy Beast about a boy who thinks there’s someone living in his belly. Your Trifextra challenge is to write 33 words on a beast in an unusual place. No swamps or forests or caves, we really want you to take your beast out of its comfort zone