Going Through the Motions

Jane Canuck, Wellbutrin, 10/09/07

Some days are easier than others. I’m under closer observation by my physician and my medication has been increased, but it’s not really any easier. I don’t feel like I’m drowning, but I also have a difficult time finding value in life.

I wake up and focus on getting myself out of bed. With Daylight Saving being extended this year I’m finding it especially difficult to get started in the morning when it’s still dark as night. My day seems to be focused on the next meal, the next commitment I can’t back out of and just getting through the day intact. Every night while I struggle to fall asleep I fervently wish that tomorrow will be better. The thought of continuing on indefinitely with seemingly little purpose begins to choke me. I feel like my existence serves no purpose, like I’m not doing anything or contributing anything and I will just grind through every day, going through the motions of a life, until one day it will all stop and nothing will have mattered.

The things that use to matter to me hold little interest now and I wonder if they ever will. I know that I used to love photography, needlework, reading fiction and expanding my mind through education. Now I look at those things with a disinterested eye and it evokes no emotion. It is hard to find beauty in a world that has become so emotionless for me. Sometimes I force myself to do the things I used to love, but I can’t concentrate for very long, and going through the motions is not like actually enjoying yourself. Doing something for the sake of doing it does not imbue value in that activity. Mostly I try for my Mother. I understand her worry and the desperate desire to make it all better. I see the feelings of hopelessness in her eyes and I want to tell her it’s ok. I want to tell her that sometimes despite a person’s best efforts there is nothing they can do, and that really is ok. I’m not going anywhere. I will go through the motions for you, and maybe one day I really will be ok.

Starting Over

Last night I went for a run. I’ve said for years that I can’t run to save my life. The last time I remember running for anything was playing tag in elementary school and the gym class I took in high school where we played field lacrosse and baseball among other things.

Last night I had to be alone, I had to be outside in the dark. I felt the walls closing in on me and I needed to clear my head. A walk just wasn’t going to cut it. And so I ran. I ran until my throat started burning and my legs were sore. I ran until I stopped thinking about him and what happened. For someone who’s never run in her life before, I don’t think I did too badly. I need to work on my breathing, but I’m proud of how many kilometers I ran versus how many blocks I walked.

Yesterday my doctor told me I needed to be selfish and start looking after myself. It’s not something we often hear as a woman. We’ve been raised to nurture and consider others, to always be polite and think of the other person. Selfish wasn’t really in my upbringing as my mother modeled absolute selflessness in regards to her family. Being told to be selfish is somewhat unusual, and yet she was right. I don’t look after myself, I don’t eat properly, I don’t exercise regularly and when I’m with a boyfriend I usually put myself second. Last night I thought of myself and went for a run.

Today is a different story. I’m back to being confused and wondering if I did the right thing, puzzling over the ‘what ifs’ and feeling hurt that he appears to be getting over me so quickly. I want to talk to him to clarify things in my mind, but I know I should just leave it alone. I feel like I want to spend one more night wrapped in his arms while I sleep, and then in the morning we smile as friends and go our separate way. That’s the idealist in me. The realist knows I can’t go there and what is best for both of us right now is for me to give him space and leave him alone completely. I did the right thing and there were so many reasons why we never quite fit together but that doesn’t stop me from missing things about him.

It’s time to start over and get reacquainted with myself. It’s time to think of what is best for me and to get a little selfish for a change.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

You tell me you love me, but you don’t show me. I tell you I can’t do this anymore and you ask for a couple of days.

“We deserve that at least?” You say.

“That’s only fair.” I reply.

But inside I’m screaming and outside the tears are running down my cheeks. I feel sick to my stomach and I know that you don’t really get me. I feel like I can’t be myself around you and you’ve never really listened to the words that come out of my mouth. Like almost everyone else I’ve ever had a relationship with you only seem interested in what my mouth can do while it’s wrapped around your cock.

You slyly denigrate my work- the very essence of what I am. It’s all I have and right now it is slipping out of my hands and you have no idea.

I wake up every morning and I’m angry. I go to bed every night and I want to slit my wrists, and somewhere in between there I lose myself a little bit more. It’s time to get out before I lose it all.

“I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say right now.” You whisper.

“It’s ok,” I say soothingly, “You don’t have to say anything.”

And just like that I’m once again thinking of someone else’s needs instead of my own, regardless of the consequences to myself. Tomorrow I call my Doctor to up my meds before I do something ridiculous.

Writers Paralysis

I haven’t written a single thing for my degree in almost 4 months. It’s a bit of a shocking realization, and yet not a complete surprise. I’ve worked myself up into a complete state of writer’s block, and worse than that paralysis since I can’t even open up a word document to try to peck away at it, let alone sit to write an entire paper. My mother is beyond concerned but there’s little she can do to force me to finish my two outstanding papers. The consequences of having an incomplete course that is now almost 1 year old is something I don’t really want to think about at the moment. It only fuels my paralysis and feelings of panic.

An acquaintance of mine from the old University had a similar problem in that she was having issues committing to a topic and writing anything coherent. She finally went to the graduate coordinator to explain that she was having significant difficulties and to seek some advice. This is the gem that the grad coordinator left her with:

Grad Coordinator: “Simply stop talking about it and get some A/C.”

Her: “You think I should get air conditioning?”

Grad Coordinator: “No, you need ass on chair. Start writing.”

Funny, but in the end not the most helpful piece of advice. That being said, I’m trying hard to commit to some “ass on chair” time to hammer out these two papers hanging over my head. To say they’re dragging me down is an understatement. I haven't been able to even write out an opening sentence, let alone an opening paragraph.

An Inauspicious Beginning

School starts again tomorrow and I wonder how I got to the place I am right now. I wonder how I’ll manage to dig myself out of this hole, or if I even can? I think about packing it all in and going home. Of sleeping away my days until everything resolves itself. Yet I know that I’m on my own now and it’s my problem to fix. It is my mess to clean up as best I can, and face the consequences if I can’t.

Celebrating a Milestone

In honour of the 40th anniversary of the unveiling of the Big Mac I did the unthinkable. I usually avoid McDonald's like the plague, but such a momentous occasion deserves to be celebrated. So, I went and had a Big Mac for lunch in honour of its birthday.

I haven't had a big mac since high school. I wish I could say it was as good as I remember it from back then, but sadly some things are not as good in reality as they are in your memory. I'm thinking it'll be another 10 years before I have another. So until the 50th anniversary, congrats on becoming an icon of American culture Big Mac.

The Plot Thickens

With more facebook creeping I have now discovered that the reason Mr. Intellectuals parents have sold the childhood home and are moving is because they're getting a divorce! I always knew that their relationship wasn't great, but they had their moments and you could tell they did love each other on some level. As the years went by things between them were deteriorating, especially during the end of Mr. Intellectual's maternal grandmother's lengthy illness and after her death. I always thought that perhaps they'd get a divorce, but it was one of those things that I never really expected to happen.

His mother is moving around the corner to a semi-detached house, a definite step down, with Mr. Intellectual's younger brother who is 21. I haven't been able to find out where his father and he are going. I suspect Mr. Intellectual will move in with the current girlfriend, or continue renting wherever it is he was renting during school. The younger brother will have little to do with their father since he has always been his mother's son to the core. It's definitely a shock to me, and I want to reach out to him, but I know I can't.

He's Moving!

I found out through a little bit of facebook creeping that Mr. Intellectual’s family is moving from his childhood home. As of August 14th they will no longer be in the house where I spent so much of my high school days and my early twenties. I’m not sure why I feel so upset about it since I haven’t stepped foot in that house in almost 2 years. They’re essentially moving around the corner, probably into a smaller house, but it’s not the same. All my associations with that family, all the memories I have are wrapped up in that house and how I know it is laid out and decorated. I lost my virginity in that house, made my promise to Mr. Intellectual out on the back patio, laughed and loved in that home. I could just cry now that it’s all gone.

Up until now I’ve resisted the urge to drive by the house to see how things are. This past weekend I was driving past his neighbourhood and despite the strong urge to make the turn onto his street I resisted. I’m not sure what I’m hoping to see when I have that desire to do a drive by. I think it’s the nostalgia perhaps, and missing aspects of him and our relationship. I still think of him often, although it’s not every single day anymore it’s still a couple of times a week or so. There are so many associations wrapped up in that house and once they move, that connection will be gone which makes me sad.


I think that I will go past there one night, sometime before they move just to say my good byes to it all.

The Lows of Dating

I've discovered that Candidate #2 has been logging into his online dating profile on an almost daily basis. Shortly after we started dating I deleted mine, and he told me he had suspended his. I don't know when he reactivated it. I thought he was different and trusted him so I never really checked up on it- despite the fact that my two previous boyfriends continued to log into dating sites after we had become exclusive, or so I thought.

So far I have been unable to confront him about it, and it is tearing me up inside. Especially since lately he's been really great and we seem to be getting closer. Now I'm questioning it as a decent distraction so I won't suspect what's going on.

I don't know what I should do.

Algonquin Weekend

Tea Lake, Algonquin Park

Algonquin was beautiful. Unfortunately it was only really nice for one of the 3 days we spent in the park. However, that one glorious sunny day more than made up for the two rainy, cold days we spent huddle around the fire, cursing our luck.

Ontario, Yours to Discover

Tom Thomson, Northern River, 1915

I’m going camping this weekend in Algonquin Provincial Park. I’m not a big camping kind of girl and have never been to Algonquin before, despite it being one of the treasures of Ontario. At well over 7000 square kilometers it is a huge expanse of protected wilderness and the inspiration for one of Canada’s darlings- Tom Thompson, and later the Group of Seven. Tom Thomson’s fateful love affair with the park in the early 1900’s ushered in a new era in Canadian art. He and the Group of Seven would go on to created some of the most iconic images of Canada and helped forge a nascent Nationalism in our young country. So it’s only appropriate that I’ll be celebrating Canada’s birthday here this weekend.

Tom Thomson, The Jack Pine, 1916-1917

Despite having a minor in Art History and having studied Canadian fine art and the Group of Seven in particular, I’ve never felt the yearning desire to go where Tom Thompson went. It is only Candidate #2’s unbridled passion for camping and the wilderness that is drawing me up north this weekend. I am of course apprehensive, since I’m always a bit timid when it comes to the unknown, but at least I have confidence in the experienced group that I’m going with.

Tom Thomson, Sunset Sky, 1915

Last Night...

Last night you held me in your arms.

Last night, instead of rolling over to our respective places you held me tight and stayed close by until the sun came up.

Last night a shift in our relationship occurred.

Last night in the whispered silence you came to understand a part of me I hide.

This morning I wonder if you will treat me differently, as a flawed and fragile being.

101 Things in 1001 Days

I've found myself bumping into this concept all over the internet lately and it's been growing on me. A quick Google search led me to lots of websites, with a lot of different ideas of what people wanted to accomplish in 1001 days. It appeals to the "5 year plan" side of myself, and seems like a pretty manageable time frame- a little over 2 1/2 years. At some point today I'd like to sit down and put together my own list of 101 things with concrete steps follow in order to achieve the more complex items. I like that the list might force to step out of my comfort zone and finally do some of the things I've only dreamt of and then put aside.

Trying and Giving Up

Trying in a relationship shouldn't feel like this. It shouldn't feel like you're gasping for breath. It shouldn't feel like the burning sting of a whiplash on exposed flesh. It shouldn't feel like sleepless nights and restless dreams. It shouldn't be a mantra repeated over and over in your head until it becomes a scream.

I'm trying.I'm trying.I'm FUCKING trying!

And every time you leave the threshold of his door, you suck in your breath in pain and feel hollow inside. Numb and alone, there doesn't feel like there's anything for you there and you wonder why you keep coming back. Do you thrive on feeling alone and unloved within a relationship? Or is it that you hate being proved wrong, yet again?

Pillow Talk

Candidate #2: (groans as he tries to crack his lower back).

Me: Still hurting, eh?

C2: My back has been killing me all week.

Me: Too much sex, eh?

C2: (laughing) I guess...

Me: (Deadpanning) Don't worry, I'll fuck you limber yet.

C2: (stunned silence before breaking out into a huge laugh) You need to put that on a t-shirt.

Stopping to Smell the Roses

I desperately needed something to lift my mood, even temporarily. So, I went and cut a single bloom from our rose bush out front to put on my desk. It provided a temporary respite from the darkness and smells so amazing while I'm working at the computer. I do need to find a proper bud vase though, since all I had that was small enough was a shot glass.

Another Day in Paradise

I am homesick. I ache for the quiet, green spaces of the farm. Taking my morning tea on the back patio, in the silent, dappled shade and drinking in the tranquility while I contemplate life and watch my mother’s gardens grow. I find a peace here inside myself that eludes me anywhere else I go.

I long for the warm embrace of family, the little arms of a toddler squeezing you in a hug of pure joy and excitement to be with you. The way she giggles and squeals when you push her higher on the swing set. His slow, shy smile bursting into a grin when you tease. The littlest one asleep in my arms, content and oblivious as only a newborn can be.

Instead I’m filled with a silent rage, trapped in increasingly inhospitable surroundings. I feel impotent to change anything, so I sit seething in frustration and dreaming of what I miss most.

Student Email Bag

From: First Year Student
To: TA Ms. Canuck
Subject: Course Requirements
Date: 2 weeks into the semester

Ms. Canuck,
I was just wondering what would be the least amount of work I could do and still pass the course?

- Student.


I was cleaning out my inbox from this year and rediscovered this gem. Usually I get emails from students after a test or paper has been handed back and they realize they haven't done as well as planned. The requests are usually for ways they can improve or do work to bump up a low grade, but never something so blatantly unmotivated. I'm guessing Mommy & Daddy wanted little Billy to have a University degree and he could care less about being here.

Dress for Success

I decided to look around on the Nine West website to get some inspiration for a possible graduation outfit. Given that I'll be wearing a longish black robe, and the fact that my feet will be eye level with the audience when I ascend the podium to be given my collar and parchment I thought it only appropriate to select footwear first. I fell in love with these shoes immediately, and an ensemble was born.

After all the problems and heartache I had completing my Master's degree, I decided that some irreverent footwear was called for. It's a reminder not to take myself, or my education, too seriously. It is just a degree. I'm going to pair these Nine West "Angeni" leopard print pumps with a form fitting black pencil skirt, a white button down shirt and a string of pearls. It's all so very 'naughty librarian'. I know that graduation is usually a fairly solemn and serious occasion, however, for me it is anything but. I feel like much of my MA was a joke- particularly my relationship with my advisor, and how things were done in regard to my thesis. It may be too late to change all of that, but this will be my final statement when I finally become a Master of the Arts.

Time Management

Motivation and procrastination have been two of my biggest problems in the last couple of months. I decided to check out a book from the library on time management in a post-secondary setting in the hopes of either spurring on motivation or garnering new tips to stave off procrastination. Although I'm only half way through the book I've realized that I slowly lost so many really great time management skills, techniques and methods from my undergraduate. Once my days and weeks lost the more rigid structure that course work provided and I was left to my own devices to come up with a manageable plan of study, it all went downhill. Some of my most consistently productive semesters came out of my undergraduate, and it took reading this book to realize it.

I know it's going to take quite a bit of effort to work back up to my former level of organization and productivity, however, in the end I will have to surpass it in order to finish my Ph.D in the allotted 4 year time span. Considering the fact that I'm still on the fence about whether or not I even want to be here and do a doctorate, this seems like a monumental task.

The Graduates Dilemma

Spring Convocation season is here for every University and College campus, mine included. Next week I finally get to pick up that piece of paper that signifies I've completed my Masters. It's anti-climactic, and yet when I think of all the sleepless nights, tears, anxiety, frustration, personal trauma and set backs that went into acquiring that piece of parchment I know I should feel more than what I do. Sure, it's an achievement to say I completed a Masters degree and yet it's left me feeling less educated and academically aware of the world than I did prior to entering into the program.

To say I've become jaded and slightly bitter with the institution is an understatement. I love education and learning new things, but at the end of my 2 1/2 year stint as an MA student academia has lost its lustre for me and I keep trying to grasp at straws to regain my motivation for a Ph.D. It doesn't help that for the past year I've been going to classes where I have yet to learn anything new- it's just jumping through hoops until I've satisfied the requirements that allow me to do what I want with my research and time. This is not how I envisioned a Ph.D.

Despite all of this I have a graduation. The first dilemma is whether or not to actually attend. Having been there once, I'm not enamoured with the prospect of sitting through several hours in the hot, humid June air to receive my parchment, along with several hundred undergraduates. My parents, however, would be upset if I didn't attend, especially after everything I've had to overcome to complete my degree. So the second dilemma is the eternal question of what to wear? I know I've done this once before, and yet I feel like this time I need to one up myself. Last time I wore a smart white skirt and black and white mod looking top. I have a BCBG dress very similar to this, but in chocolate brown, however I feel like that might be too much cleavage for a graduation. It's too hot for pants, and I have to be careful of the colour I choose to wear so it doesn't look mismatched with the robe and collar. I'm dreading going to the mall to look for something to wear, but it looks like that's what will have to happen after all. It's tempting to just go naked under that robe like so many cliched Hollywood movies.

The key, however, is not so much what you're wearing, but the shoes you choose. For all graduates, when you step on that podium to receive your degree your feet are generally at eye level with the audience and that is what everyone notices. Avoid flip flops and running shoes, do get a nice pedicure and heaven forbid you clomp around like a work horse.

The Date with Candidate #2

Shortly before my birthday I agreed to go out on a date with this guy. Originally we were going to the drive-in on a Saturday night, but my nerves and his work schedule put an end to that idea. He was planning on being back in town mid-day Sunday, at which point he was going to call me and we’d figure out something to do together that afternoon. I figured a walk or going out for ice cream, or something equally easy going and spontaneous would make for a decent date.

The Date: He ended up heading back to my university town late Saturday afternoon and called me up on his way home. Candidate #2 asked if I was available to go out for a drink that evening with him since business wrapped up earlier than expected and he figured why wait until Sunday to meet up. I was feeling pretty spontaneous and tired of being cooped up at home and agreed to the short notice date. He would call me back to confirm a time once he got into town, so I had a couple of hours to get ready.

On his way to pick me up before heading out to the local Irish pub, he got a call from a group of his buddies who’d been drinking all afternoon and on the spur of the moment decided to go to the exact same pub as he had suggested we go to. I found out later that these guys rarely go to this bar, and prefer the cowboy bar on the other side of town as a general rule, which is why Candidate #2 suggested the Irish pub in the first place. This put him in an awkward position- he could take me somewhere else and run the risk of having me think he doesn’t want his friends to see him out with me, or he could just say fuck it and hope for the best from his rowdy friends. He decided to tell me what was up and left it in my hands.

Lucky for him I hadn’t been out in while and felt up for some mischief, so I agreed to just keep with our original plans. At the very least it would be entertaining and I was curious to see him amongst his friends since that’s the quickest way to get a reading on what kind of a person he is. It’s easy to act a certain way on a first date, but it’s pretty hard to be someone else when you’re around good friends who know better and would probably call him on it.

Driving out to the bar the conversation was fairly natural and easy going. There was very little tension and nervousness between us, and no awkward silences, which is so rare in a first date. We were able to get in half a beer before his friends showed up and the gong show began. They were an absolute riot and just what I needed at the time to get my mind off things. After a couple of hours on the patio at the Irish pub we all decided to head over to the cowboy bar. Candidate #2 was pretty sweet and attentive the whole night and rarely left me alone with these guys, probably for good reason since the stories were getting pretty colourful and they were getting flirtier. At one point while he went to the bathroom I was left with one guy who was seriously hitting on me while mildly trash talking my date. It was all in good fun since they genuinely like Candidate #2 and were happy to see him with some one for a change- although they thought he was a bit of an idiot for bringing me out with them on the first date.

Shortly after 1am Candidate #2 decided he should get me home and away from the boys. I would have been fine staying until close, but figured there were reason’s why he wanted me to leave before them. At some point in the few weeks we had talked over msn the subject of first kisses had come up, so I was aware that he was a bit timid when it came to making the move for a first kiss. After pulling up to my place we just sat in the jeep for a bit talking about things and flirting some more.

I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but soon enough I had leaned over slide a hand behind his neck to draw him closer and gave him a kiss. I think it shocked him a little bit, since it was unexpected and pretty forward. For the next 20 minutes however, we made out like it was high school all over again. Don’t ask me how this happened but at one point his hand found its way to my breast, and he claims now that I whimpered and didn’t move his hand so he continued what he was doing. In all my dating life I have never allowed a guy to grab the girls on the first date, especially not during a good night kiss! To say there was chemistry between us was an understatement. Despite having the house to myself that night, I did not ask him in, even though the thought had crossed my mind. So, we left it at that and I went inside to bed while he went to meet up with the guys for one last drink and greasy food.



Candidate #2 called the next afternoon to ask me over for a bbq and a casual afternoon on the back deck with him and his best friend.

Morning Ritual

When you wake up more days in a row than you can remember with frustration and sadness it is time to do something different. Now to figure out what I need to do differently, short of moving out of here.

Struggles

I close my eyes and tip my head back as the tears start to fall. Pressing the palms of my hands to my eyes with the futile hope of pressing out the image of your face behind my closed lids. Those piercing, slate blue eyes. I choke back a sob, but it’s too late to rebury the overwhelming emotions. I miss you. It’s as simple as that.

Eventually every new relationship is unfairly compared to you and comes up lacking. Perhaps it’s my self-destructive tendencies that cause me to pick less than desirable men. A sadistic loathing of myself as a person motivating my actions. There are uneasy pinpricks surrounding the veracity of the new relationship with Candidate #2. Something is not right and I leave feeling more alone and isolated inside my head after being with him than before. Yet I come back for more, whether it is to clarify the problem or torture myself I know not. It is then that you come to mind, my safe haven in a confusing world.

You were always there, even if you weren’t. I desperately wish I could forget you and move on, to let go of you and find peace with our time spent together, and I think for the most part I have. Until I find myself in the arms of another man and I’m left feeling hollow and one-dimensional. I’m left to thrash it out on my own. Struggling with my internal demons and coming to grips with the choices I’ve made in this lifetime.

A Happy Birthday

A few days ago I celebrated my 26th birthday. Candidate #2 sent these to my parents house to surprise me, and wish me a happy birthday- it was quite the surprise all things considered.

Candidate #2

Candidate 2: 33 year-old who works in sales. Single, no kids, no pets, no former wives, but he is a smoker who’s trying to quit.

First Impression: Clean-cut, put together professional who’s not afraid to take charge of a situation. He’s also a great friend and very selfless in giving time to those in his inner circle, whether it’s a best friend or a family member. A touch redneck given his hometown and some of his interests but not overly so.

Second impression (from msn chats and a brief phone call): A very warm and inviting personality. He’s got a lot of charm and humour, but knows when to keep the flirting light without crossing the line into pervy territory like so many other men I’ve talked to before. A gentleman, who’s easy going, driven, has goals and a plan to achieve them. The early impression of redneck is balanced with a surprising love of reading, photography, and a higher than average intelligence. Candidate 2 is also surprisingly patient and understanding of my work schedule and time commitments.

The Plan: Originally we’d scheduled an off the cuff date for a double header at the drive-in after he learned I’m as big a movie buff as he was, but had never been to the drive-in before. My nerves and an overly cautious attitude changed my mind and we’ve decided on something a little less intense for a first meeting. He’s calling tomorrow morning and we’ll decide on an activity for Sunday afternoon depending on weather and our respective moods.

Pre-date feelings: Cautiously optimistic. Although Candidate #2 is seven years older than myself, I’ve already shown a penchant for older men, to my detriment at times, which negates my initial apprehension of the age difference. I feel a lot better about this date than prior to Candidate #1’s, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself if the connection doesn’t hold in the real world away from the computer.

Pre and Post-Date Wrap Up, Candidate #1

Candidate 1: 34 year old former IT professional who created his own business in the recent past. Single, but shared custody of a dog from his last relationship of 3-years that did not lead to marriage.

First Impression: A nice, well-spoken gentlemanly type. Well educated, and shares several of my interests in common. Appears good-looking and confident with a great smile from his profile pictures, however these can be deceiving.

Second impression (from brief msn chats): Repeats the following phrases a little too often- “I have a good feeling about you,” and “ Are you very affectionate, because I love being affectionate.” Our online conversations are a little stilted and short, and he also has a bad habit of saying he’ll be right back only to disappear for the remainder of the evening.

The Plan: A 7pm meeting at a Starbucks. Our first attempt was cancelled just hours before hand for a “business meeting with an important client at 7 pm”. Our second attempt the following week was for afternoon coffee at Starbucks, which I cancelled last minute because I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind and I wanted to give him a fair chance. The third time the following week actually happens.

Pre-date feelings: Apprehensive. Candidate #1 is a little older than I’d prefer and I’m picking up some strange vibes from his comments and behaviour. I’m trying to remain open minded, but wouldn’t be surprised if he is the “touchy-feely” type and a little on the creepy side. I expect a civil date, but no sparks and most likely no second date.

The Date: He is pretty nervous, understandably, but looks like his picture, which is always a good thing. The only minor difference is I detect faint, but distinct features/scars from a cleft-palate, but it’s no big deal. The barista’s all know him and later he admits to coming to Starbucks 3-5 times a week and hanging out, which I find a bit yuppie, but each to his own, right? The first hour of conversation is a little more awkward than normal for a first date, and he is definitely your typical IT geek, but not in the “dungeon’s & dragon’s” sense- more like he spends too much time at work and hasn’t fully developed his social skills, as well as harbouring a few personality quirks. By the third hour he’s more relaxed and comfortable and I have a relatively good time. Thankfully he refrains from touching me or encroaching on my personal space and doesn't come across as creepy.

Prior to the date I had, for the first time in my dating life, developed an exit strategy with my roommates. Someone was going to call my cell phone just after 8 o’clock. If I wasn’t desperate to get out of there after an hour I wouldn’t pick up, but if I wasn’t feeling it at all I would answer and the story would be that my house mate just got off work, her car wouldn’t start and I needed to go pick her up since I was the only other housemate with a car. She called at just after 8 and I didn’t even hear the phone. Had I heard it I probably would have answered, not because I was having a horrible time, but more so because I was getting tired and I had to pull out the side-show of witty anecdotes and odd but interesting tidbits from my life since the conversation was flagging a bit and he wasn’t giving me anything to work with. When necessary I can really “market” myself well, but it's exhausting. It’s funny because at one point he said that he thought I was the type that could sell ice to Eskimos.

Oddities of the date:
- At one point he offered me a job in his friends business. They company was looking for someone to sell the product, something I know nothing about, not to mention that I’ve never done sales before.

- He discussed the “custody dispute” ongoing with the dog he bought with his former live-in girlfriend. It was a bit weird and he was obviously bitter and upset over it still. In January she cut off all contact and wouldn’t allow him weekends with the dog because she believed he was using the dog to get back together with her. I have no way to corroborate this, however he adamantly states that it was the dog he wanted to see, not her since it was his idea to buy the dog and he picked her out, cared for her and had a greater attachment to her.

- He brought up “the site” in a whisper that I didn’t catch at first, and asked how long I’d been online for and why I decided to go try a dating site.

- We discussed the myriad of coffee shops in our city and the pro’s and con’s of several, including those that have free wireless. He then proposed that one day we go to the free-wireless spot to work together since he could pick up his stuff and work outside the office whenever. He thought it would be great to work across from each other on our laptops, occasionally gazing over the screen at each other. While this seems cute, it was a bit quick for me to be envisioning any sort of long-term relationship that would have matured to the point where we work together at a coffee shop for a “date”.

The Verdict: It wasn’t horrible, but there weren't sparks everywhere either. However, I’d be willing to commit to a second date to see if there is any potential since first dates, especially blind ones, are not the easiest for seeing if the other individual is really compatible. My only caveat is the distinct impression I have that he's looking for a wife and chasing the white picket fence dream pretty hard right now. In the end I came home I fired off an email, thanking him for a good time and leaving the door open if he was interested in a second date.

Exam Hijinks

The course I'm a teaching assistant in had its final exam recently. My students wrote in a large auditorium that also had a science course writing at the same time in the front section of the room. As with any exam, we have to escort our students to the bathroom to ensure that no one is in there cheating, should they actually need to use the restroom. With 30 minutes left in the 2 hour exam a student on the far side of the room raised his hand and I headed over with the expectation that it was another bathroom run.

"Um, my cell phone is buzzing in my pocket and I just wanted to let you know that I'm turning it off, and not cheating."

"Ok, that's fine, " I said, as I watched him take out the offending cell phone and power it down.

"Oh, and I was wondering if I could have some extra time? I'm feeling really rushed on the last section of the exam and want some extra time." He said as he looked at me like I owed him something.

My left eyebrow raised slightly and I must have given him a look of contemptuous amusement when I replied. I had to hold back from laughing as I told him absolutely not in no uncertain terms. Clearly my answer left him unsatisfied as I heard the student bitching loudly to his friends as I picked up the papers after the exam how it was "bullshit" and we should have given him extra time.

Yeah son, I'll give you and none of the other 250 students in our course extra time because you haven't learned how to time manage during an exam. Unbelievable.

Candidate #1

I had a date last night with someone from the online dating thing I signed up for. We met for coffee at the local Starbucks. Candidate #1 is a 34-year old, former IT guy who now owns his own business, has never been married and has no children.

My students write an exam tonight and my own deadlines are breathing down my neck so there will be more details to follow when I get a minute.

Yogic Achievements

Today in Yoga I was able to touch my head to my knees- a pretty impressive feat if you ask me. Mind you it wasn't a comfortable stretch/pose, but that will take a little more time to achieve. I'm enjoying the yoga more than I thought I would, and I'm constantly amazed at how flexible I am and how much I'm improving in that area. The only downside is that in 6 weeks my study will end and if I want to continue doing yoga I'm going to have to find a studio. I've been looking around and it's pretty expensive on a students budget. I'll have to really think about whether or not this is something I want to pursue in the future given the high fees.

Small Town Success

The pinnacle of achievement in my hometown seems to be marrying young and settling down to connubial bliss. It’s the same in every small town on the North American continent. I had a hard time in high school, and really disliked a lot of the people I was forced to see on a regular basis. I never fit in anywhere in particular and had a small set of friends. My main goal was get out of town as fast as I could and academics were the perfect conduit. By maintaining high grades I guaranteed myself a spot in a University away from the hometown, and perhaps some scholarships or bursaries to help me out. I was pretty serious about my education and focused on getting the marks. In the end I graduated with a 93% average, was accepted into every university I applied to and netted some scholarships upon graduation. When I left that September in 2000 I was ecstatic and so excited to start fresh in a place where no one knew me and where I could be who I wanted to be and do anything I desired. I never really looked back.

Not too long ago I joined Facebook, and started looking back. Almost all my roommates were on it, as well as a lot of my friends and a few of my siblings and cousin’s. I joined out of sheer curiousity and boredom. Facebook really is the perfect place to spy on old housemates, classmates, friends you don’t talk to anymore and anyone else you feel like. I have mixed feelings about this “social networking site”. While it provides some good laughs between my close friends and I, it has also confronted me full on with the same people I’ve avoided since graduation 7 years ago. Discovering who’s married, who’s dating whom, who’s engaged or having/had a baby is disconcerting to say the least.

The downside of all this is that I have started torturing myself with this information. It doesn’t help that I know I would be married now had Mr. Intellectual and I stayed together. We had plans to get engaged during our Master’s and married shortly after the completion of our respective degrees. Instead I chose to pursue a Doctorate and a partner that would help create an awesome marriage, and not just an ok marriage. I didn’t want to settle for decent, I wanted extraordinary. So here I am three years later, alone and embarking on my Ph.d. He’s chasing that white picket-fence dream with some other girl and they’ve been together for almost 2 years now.

Intellectually I know how utterly ridiculous this is, but I feel like a failure. Like I’ve dropped the proverbial brass ring. I never cared about getting married and settling down immediately. Those small town objectives were never part of my persona or priorities. I was quite content to be on my own and if need be spend my life alone- I love what I’m doing, I have some great friends and my family is more than I could have ever asked for. While marriage and kids are a desire, I would still feel complete and blessed without them. I think it would be awesome to be “that Aunt”. The one who spoils her nieces and nephews and adopts them as her own, taking them on trips, indulging them on special occasions and when ever I feel like it, just because I can.

From the outside all these old classmates seem happy and stable with their lives. Who knows if that’s the truth or just the public façade. Some of the pairings seem odd, and I have to wonder if the fear of being alone has forced some of their hands into an early marriage with whatever was available in the home town, instead of waiting. The girls who became baby-momma’s, while smiling and beautiful with their dimple-faced angels, give me a moment of pause. Children are a blessing, but their unexpected arrival and the complications that creates cannot be easy. As deeply sad as it makes me to look back and see what I don’t have, I know I am infinitely better off where I am. I’m following my dreams and passion’s with my doctorate. I’m unencumbered and free to do as I please and be as selfish as I have to be to get to where I want to be in the next few years. As much as I desire someone to share my journey with I understand the value of my freedom.

One of Vladimir Lenin’s famous quotes comes to mind:

“Liberty is precious; so precious that it must be rationed carefully.”

It is easy to take it for granted when you have lots, but for those who don’t have as many freedoms it becomes so important. The irony is that in my final year of high school, in the graduation yearbook, I used that quote in my profile. I also said that my future plans were to become a Doctor, and on some level I knew that what I was embarking on would be the path less traveled. Its also good to remind myself to take advantage of my liberty now and enjoy it to the fullest since soon enough I will have a lot less of it when mortgages, family, career worries and real life comes marching in.

So while I may have failed the litmus test of my small town, and I let it bring me down, in the end I wouldn’t change a thing with my life. I just need to keep looking forward.

Online Dating- Take 3

There's nothing quite as depressing as being rebuffed by a guy on an online dating site. It's awesome!

Jane on Relationships & Sex

Over the last few years since Mr. Intellectual and I went our separate ways I’ve dated quite a few men, and started up semi-serious relationships with a few. Over time I’ve noticed some interesting things about myself when dating or in a relationship:

• If I split the cheque on the first date or pay for everything on the first date, there is no second date. I hate having obligations towards people I’d rather not spend time with, even if it’s something this subtle. So if I'm paying, it's not going well. Exceptions are for the rare first dates I initiate and expect to pay for, like drinks etc.

• If I don’t want to kiss you after the first date, there will be no second date.

• If I can’t look my partner in the eyes during sex and hold his gaze, the relationship is not for keeps and will only last a few months. To date, the only man I could have sex with and look at during the act was Mr. Intellectual.
  

• If I can hold your gaze I prefer missionary or woman on top. Doggie style is the position of choice for every one else.

• If I stop giving blow jobs and make a concerted effort to avoid going down on you, the relationship is over and I will leave shortly after realizing the change.

• I won’t tell my siblings or parents about a person I’m dating, even if it’s for a few months, if I don’t think they’re worth the trouble. This type of relationship is relatively short lived and inconsequential.

I’m in a rut, so I have once again signed up for lavalife in the absurd hopes of finding someone compatible. This time I’m approaching it a little differently in order to not waste as much time. I’m actually going to put out some of my own cold hard cash for credits, post a picture of myself on my profile and not just in the back stage and I'll be a little more selective in who I’ll agree to meet with. This is the third time I’ll have tried using an online dating service since breaking off my relationship with Mr. Intellectual 3 years ago. To date I have never had more than a lot of first dates and only a couple of second dates from online men. The exception is the Jock, who was a “friends with benefits” turned relationship disaster.

Does 26 = Old Maid?

I'm still here, still depressed and still struggling to keep my head above water academically. I don't know what to write about these days without sounding like a broken record.

For the last week and a bit I've been having almost nightly dreams of Mr. Intellectual, which is a bit odd. I think I just miss being in a relationship with someone I love and who understands me. I'm frustrated and becoming increasingly sad over my current relationship status. I think it has to do with the fact that my 26th birthday is around the corner and in cliched girl fashion I'm fretting over the possability of a lifetime of spinsterhood.

Rose of Sharon Progress

Mirabilia, Rose of Sharon

Last year I posted a picture of the progress I had made on a cross-stitch piece I was working on. Here's what it looks like now. As of last Spring I really hadn't touched this. I don't think it even left my cross-stitch bag for over 6 months. I was too depressed to take any interest in my hobbies, and the weight of me thesis lay pretty heavily on me. After my thesis defence I dug this out again, and slowly started to work on it. I come back to it for a few hours at a time when the mood strikes and can find it very therapeutic.

If You Think Writing Exams Are Bad- Try Marking Them

I'm marking midterms this week. One of the essay questions my students have is on the German invasion of Russia during WWII. I was sitting outside on the back deck, enjoying the sunshine and warm weather while I marked, since marking isn't the most enjoyable past time. Late in the afternoon I came across a student who's answer made me laugh out loud. The essay was decent, but buried in a fairly serious and straightforward answer was the following bit which I've copied verbatim.

"Ultimately, the Nazi's were too far away from home if you will, and it was impossible to continue through the harsh temperature. The Soviets successfully dodged a bullet (or several!) by abandoning and retreating as the invasion progressed. In essence, the Fuhrer rolled the dice, and fortunately for humankind, he crapped out."

I've started a little collection of quirky and downright wrong, but hilarious answers. I've even scanned some of them since they're too unbelievable to be true without the proof- like academic urban legends. I ended up giving this student a 7/10 for his answer, mostly because he broke the monotony.

Odd Things

I was checking through my StatCounter this evening since I haven't looked in over a month to see what was going on. One person stumbled upon my blog after google searching for "bmw ph.d pretty impressive too."

Whatever it was they were looking for, I doubt they found it here, but it did make me laugh.

The "Drool Study" Begins

I signed myself up for a University study on the affects of exercise for those with depression a couple of weeks ago. After too many interviews and assessments to determine if my depression fits the criteria for what they are looking for, I finally started my sessions. This was the first week where I began my stretching group exercises, which are essentially a yoga and pilates routine with a small guided meditation at the end. I go three times a week for an hour at a time. For the most part there are usually only 3 people in the “lab” at a time- myself, another participant and the girl running the session. It’s a bit awkward at first since we both know why we are there and I’m guessing that like myself it’s not something they’re openly acknowledging to people.

This study has become known affectionately as the “drool study” in my house. The girls I live with know I joined up for a University led study involving exercise, however, they don’t know it’s for depression. One of the components of the study is that at various times during the 12-week intervention I’m required to submit saliva samples from 3 different times in an assigned day. This means that I drool, or spit, into a test tube through a straw. My samples are then frozen at home and brought in to my next session. The purpose of this is to test the levels of cortisol change in a predictable way throughout the day. Cortisol is the hormone produced in response to stress. Since I live with a bunch of Science major’s they have just assumed that the study is examining the affects of exercise on stress, which essentially is one of the aspects of it. The drool aspect has caused quite a lot of hilarity in the house, as well as curiousity. So much so that the girls wanted to take a peek at my frozen vials of saliva and where I was storing them in our freezer.

I can’t say that I feel any affects as yet, aside from a few sore muscles and my carpal tunnel wrist being aggravated. I find aspects of it calming and I do have hope that even this mild exercise will do something for me. At the very least the sun has been out more and the warmer weather has finally arrived. I’m still extraordinarily unmotivated, apathetic and I have had some really bad days in the last little while. Almost crying in seminar for no apparent reason is not a good thing.

Round Up

I took last week off from pretty much everything in my life- school, the blog, man issues, and worrying about the future. It was our Spring Break here at the New Uni, so I went back to my parents place to enjoy some peace and quiet on the Farm. I spent some quality time with my family, although I didn't get a chance to see the niece and nephew which was a bit of a disappointment.

I did however get to see my 92 year old Grandmother. I've been feeling really guilty for not seeing her in quite some time. This was brought home to me all the more strongly when she said that it was good I had come, she was forgetting what I looked like. I wasn't feeling all that up to the visit, but I'm glad I went. I know our time together is short, so every time I get to see her is special now. It was a good visit because I was able to get a few more pieces of information on our family history from my mother's side. The things my Oma has seen and done in her life time are extraordinary and makes me feel all the more blessed for living in a country like Canada.

I spent Saturday on a spontaneous road trip with my brother the World Traveller, his best friend and his best friends wife. We went looking for motorcycle equipment. Not that I have a bike, or a significant other with a bike, but it was a good chance to see my brother and something outside of school. The World Travellor and his best friend just traded in their sport bikes and bought BMW Tour bikes for their next great adventure. They're as excited as kids in a candy store and I'm happy for them. It's nice to see someone living their dreams and dreaming big. Plus, seeing the BMW showroom in Toronto was impressive, I'm not going to lie.

This week I had a psych evaluation to see if I qualified for the exercise and depression study I had signed up for. I just got word this morning that I'm in and I've been assigned to the stretching exercise group. As much as I would have liked to be in the cardio group, this is probably a better idea for me. I'm already pretty flexible and if this is a yoga/pilates type of program with meditation I will be able to do this on my own after the 12 weeks are done. I think learning a new way to deal with the stressors in my life is essential since I haven't been doing all that well lately.

After the psych consult I was asked if I would be interested in participating in other studies. The person administering the evaluation said that I was a perfect candidate for their work with depression and MRI's. I gave them my number and told them to let me know if they needed me. It sounds intriguing and I'm up for anything to help me at this point. I've had chronic depression for more years than I care to count and am willing to try just about anything at this point to help me out.

Getting Back in the Game

I’m trying really hard right now to re-engage in my life. The longer I sit on the sidelines, the harder it is to start because things keep piling up and minor worries become full blown anxieties as the problem compounds. I can be a very stubborn person, which can be a negative, but in this instance it really is a benefit. Through sheer stubborn will I drag myself through each and every day so I can be a semi-functioning depressive. Every small task completed is a victory for me- from brushing my teeth after breakfast, washing my hair, to getting dressed in real clothes, putting on make-up and going to campus. Anything other than lying in bed, sleeping, staring idly at a computer screen or out my window is a success.

It’s really difficult to fight myself all the time to do things which others find so easy and mundane. It can be exhausting. I lose more than I win on most days, but it’s a start. I know my behaviour is causing damage to my Ph.d and future success here. I haven’t been completing assignments on time. I haven’t been completing all my readings or even engaging the material. I haven’t met any of the other Ph.d candidates aside from the two who are TA’s with me. I should be lining up my summer reading course, investigating what I need to do for my comprehensive examinations next fall and working on my French. At some point in the very near future I need to successfully write a French comprehension exam so that I’m certified as bilingual as part of my degree. At the moment I am so far from being bilingual that it scares me. If I let things slide any more I risk either being kicked out or having to drop out; neither of which are an acceptable choice.

Jokes on Me

We don't have cable at the house here in my Uni town. We make due with the hand full of channels we can get on regular old-school television. I checked during the week to see if we got the Oscar's on one of our channels and I could have sworn we did. I come to find out tonight when I sat down to watch the pre-show that we don't get one of the channels televising the Oscar's! So, my plans of a quiet evening, curled up on the couch, critiquing the fabulous and not so fabulous gowns, have been thrown for a loop. I love watching the big categories and seeing if they match up with my expectations or not.

Plan B is to finally watch Babel. I tried to watch all the movies up for best picture. After watching Babel the only one I missed was Letters from Iwo Jima, which I will watch shortly. There's only so many hours in a day and I think I watch way too many movies and documentaries as it is.

A Start

Someone on campus is doing a study on depression and exercise and I've signed up to participate. I have a meeting tomorrow with the person running the study to make sure I qualify and to give me more information on the project. If I make the cut I'll be put into one of two groups. The first group will do yoga/stretching for an hour, three times a week, while the second group will do cardio (cycling, rowing machine, treadmill) for an hour, three times a week for the duration of the study.

I'm hoping that this will help, or at the very least begin to pull me out of this. The next step is to ramp up my medication or try a new combination, which ever is more effective.

Coasting & Crashing

Driving home from the grocery store this evening I was suddenly struck by the realization that I’m extremely depressed. It shouldn’t really surprise me anymore, but there it is. I’m having trouble showering and washing my hair on a regular basis, finding any kind of energy or motivation to do my schoolwork, and I’m especially finding it hard to care about things in general. I’ve also started trying to anesthetize myself with food. I indulge my every craving and whim- from chocolate bars to chips, fast food and cookies. I eat when I’m not even hungry, because at least when I feel full I’m feeling something else for a change besides numb.

I’m also extremely agitated mentally. I’m restless and unable to settle my mind into any kind of coherent, logical train of thought. Bits and pieces of future and present projects march endlessly through my brain. Ideas on how to expand my MA thesis into a publishable work; Edward Bernays and the rise of marketing in a Canadian context; the Farmerettes of WWI; changing my Ph.d thesis, various trains of thought on my family history on both sides. I’m starting to feel like the tighter I try to hold on the farther away it gets from me.

I don’t want to start messing around with my medication, but obviously things really aren’t functioning as they should. One of the major problems is that I don’t have a doctor at the new university. I don’t know how the health services work here and I’m loath to start discussing the PTSD, depression and anxiety with yet another doctor. I seriously need to get myself together before I crash and burn. I already feel like this doctorate is spiraling out of control. I am absolutely coasting through my classes, doing the absolute bare minimum of the readings or not doing them at all. It’s pathetic really.

Congratulatory Surprises

Last week I spent a gruelling 48 hour period completing the final edits to my Master's thesis, getting 8 copies printed by Business Depot, and running around the old campus signing paperwork and taking care of all manner of administrative details. I'm convinced it's harder to graduate than it is to get in to University. First, you pay to apply, then you pay to stay in and to add insult to injury you have to pay to graduate and get out of the place. I think all told, between graduation fees, book binding fees and copying fees amongst other things I spent upwards of $400. However, it is all done and over with. All I have to wait for now is my Convocation in June and the return of my thesis from the printer's which should be in the next two weeks or so.

It was after midnight when I finally rolled in the door that night and I was exhausted. I was greeted by the above sight in my room. One of my house mates had left me a card and the balloons to congratulate me on finishing my Master's. It was an incredibly sweet gesture, especially since I just met everyone here in September. Inside the card was the following message:

You Deserve A Big Gold Star!

Congratulations!! You're done!!

2.5 years...'there is no telling how many miles
you will have to run while chasing a dream'
Congrats, now get some rest!!
~ house mate

I guess they were more aware of my late hours than I originally thought. I was always the last one in bed, long after everyone had gone to sleep, and always the first one up in the morning. I'm trying to adjust to a more normal sleeping schedule and a balanced work schedule. Hopefully I can get a handle on that soon or I'm really going to be burned out. The Ph.d is now officially underway and I'm hoping I can get through this in 4 years or less. I don't want to be over 30 and still in school because even I can't handle that much school.

Thinking About Life

I'm tired of being alone.

I'm especially tired of being alone while seeing someone.

It's Official

It's official- I am a Master of the Arts. My defense on Friday afternoon went as smoothly as these things possibly can. I was still relatively blase about the whole process and tired of my subject, but I suppose that is somewhat normal after working on the same thing for over 2 years.

My best friend since elementary school showed up to watch. She was the only spectator in the room and I'm grateful that she did decided to come despite some bad weather. It was nice to have someone else there besides the 3 Professor's who were examining me.

I was asked the next day how it felt. To be honest it just feels like another day and nothing much has changed. Perhaps that is because it is so anti-climatic after such a huge push and so much effort. Or maybe I won't really process it and feel the difference until the day I graduate and receive my degree parchment. Another big reason why it is just another day for me is because there is no break between MA work and Ph.D work. I have to spend some significant time in the library in the next few days to finish up a big project for a class, prepare a presentation for the same class this week, complete all the readings for this coming week and finish the edits for my MA so I can hand in the final, clean copy on Monday afternoon to the old university. I also have a 30 page paper to finish researching and write up which was from a course I took last semester. The pressure really isn't letting up and I'm not so sure how that makes me feel about the course I've set myself on.

I received the above pictured flowers from the Jock to congratulate me on finishing my MA. That is a whole other story right there.

An Incomprehensible Loss

There are times in a person's life when words fail. Now is one of those times. A very good family friend and a man I consider as a brother has experienced a heartbreaking loss this week. He and his wife were expecting their first child this coming May. Late last week she went into early labour, and despite the best efforts of the Doctors they were only able to stop her premature labour for a few days.

On Monday morning she gave birth to a tiny baby girl. Their little angel weighed in at barely a pound and a half at 23.5 weeks. She was born alive, but once the umbilical cord was cut she didn't make it. A private funeral is being held tomorrow followed by interment. This is a loss I just can't make sense of.

I can't even begin to understand what the family is going through, let alone his wife who returned home Monday afternoon, without her baby. They are a young couple, only a year or two older than myself, and were so excited to be starting their family. I sit here in tears for them, but I know my grief is nothing compared to their own. Tomorrow while I'm defending my Master's thesis they will be burying their tiny baby. Life just does not make sense to me right now.

Life Moves Forward

From a Recent Ice Storm

The date for my thesis defense is January 26th from 1:30-3:30. I know I should be nervous but I'm not really. I just want this last step over and done with so I can move on with my life.

Family History

While slogging through one of the readings I have to finish before class tomorrow I came across a line that really struck me.

"Any life story, written or oral, more or less dramatically, is in one sense a personal mythology, a self-justification."

This really brings into fresh focus my paternal Grandfather and his desire for one of my cousin's and I to collaborate in writing his biography. It is a request that I have a hard time acquiescing to for various reasons. I have difficulty putting in to words exactly why this project makes me cringe, but this line really sums it up for me- personal mythology and self-justification.

Ironically I'm more qualified now to write an accurate history of his life because of my academics, but it would be a biography that would most likely displease him. My biography would be quite different from my younger cousin's interpretation of his life which would dwell more on the myth of the figure than the reality. Also, she's just finishg up a degree in Criminology and English which again shapes her perspective. I've made no moves whatsoever to begin this project, however my cousin has bought him a tape recorder to record his personal anecdotes and things he believes are important aspects of his life.

At some time I'd like to write my family history since it is complex and interesting, but my grandfather will be one figure in the story and not the key component. I think I'm more interested in the lives of the women of my family and their personal stories.

A Surprising Discovery of Emotions

Optimism. For the first time in a very long time I feel optimistic about the future. However, I'm scared to let myself dream.

I'm scared that if I allow myself to hope and anticipate that it will all come crashing down around me. Just when I feel like my dreams are a possibility again, I find myself tempering my new found spark of joy with a healthy dose of pessimistic caution. Too much has happened to me in the past year for me to blithely abandon myself to the possibilities of what may come.

I desperately hope that I have turned a corner and the worst of it is now behind me, but to assume as much would be woefully ignorant of me.

The Downward Slope

These Orchids were one of the Christmas presents from my Father to my Mother this year.

Tomorrow I go to pick up my thesis from my advisor. It is the last round of revisions before I send it out to my committee to read before my thesis defense. I know I should be nervous but I just want it done and out of the way already. The copies of my thesis will be in my committee members hands by Monday morning sometime, and I hope to have a defense date set for the following Monday. This truly is the downward slope of an uphill battle and I'm exhausted. I haven't slept or eaten properly in well over a month. I've been averaging 4 hours a night or less to finish this up so I can begin my Ph. d this semester. I can't wait to graduate from my MA.

A Quiet New Year

I spent New Year's Eve at my parents house. The house was virtually empty since it was just my parents and I at home last night. For the most part I spent the evening in my father's office, resignedly working on my thesis in the hopes of completing it before the end of the year, while my parents watched a movie in the next room. I did however, take a break from work to spend a little time in front of the fire reading a book and enjoying something other than hard work. It was kind of a nice way to spend the night and I didn't miss the crowds and feverish celebrations at all.

Merry Christmas Mr. Intellectual

I miss you, but I can’t reach out to you anymore. I don’t know if you’re still dating her and still against having anything to do with me or not. It’s only a matter of time before we run into each other somewhere. I want to know how your first semester at the post-graduate program went and how your family is doing. I want to know if you’re happy and still as deeply passionate about History as you used to be. I want to see you smile.

Right now I would give just about everything to turn back the clock to three years ago when we celebrated our last Christmas together. As difficult as that was, it was much simpler than what I’m trying to handle right now.

I hope above all, that you are happy with where you are in your life right now.

Home for a Rest

I came back to my parents house a few days earlier than planned. Originally I was supposed to head home Saturday morning for the Christmas festivities. However, that plan changed rather quickly as I started to have a personal meltdown over the difficulties I'm encountering with completing my Master's degree. Between the stress of finishing and my issues with my advisor I was sliding fast.

I don't do well during the Christmas holiday's to begin with. Something with having to go places I'm not particularly keen on going, and putting on a good face to keep up appearances. This is my first Christmas that in addition to the depression I'll be dealing with PTSD and it wasn't going well. The fact that my Mother emailed me this past Saturday and said that I seemed "fragile" was a clear indication that if I didn't do something soon I'd either be institutionalized or something far worse.

I think this is one of the first times that my Mom has caught wind of exactly how desperate my situation can be at times, which means I'm not holding it together well at all. So I decided to come home to rest and finish up in a supportive environment where people understand what I'm up against. I haven't disclosed anything to my current house mates and I doubt I will anytime soon given how intensely private I am.

I've managed to sleep better since coming back to my own room with my comfortable bed and surrounded by favourite things. It also meant I could take some pictures of a few of the other things I collect, like my tea cups. This is one of my favourite ones. It's a Royal Albert pattern called "April Showers". It is actually a cup and saucer that my mother received as a wedding present, but recently gifted to me. I had found the same pattern in a raspberry and yellow combination at an antique store a year or so ago and bought it. It was then that my mother presented me this one as a
gift. Buying antique tea cups and china was actually one of the first things that got me into antiquing and collecting many years ago, before I was even a teenager.

The Razors Edge

I feel like I've been near the razors edge for the last little while with my thesis work. I'm so close to finishing my Master's and truly starting my Ph.d, free from the constraints of an unfinished degree. However, after a progress meeting this past week with my advisory committee I feel like I've been pushed off the edge. My head advisor and I are having what can best be described as a personality conflict. I'm extremely concerned that she's going to block me from completing this degree before the start of the Winter term in January. I wish I was over reacting, but I'm not and this whole situation has created quite the emotional turmoil for me right now.

Snow Day

Winter arrived with a bang last week, dropping several inches of fluffy powder on my neighbourhood. Despite not wanting Winter to come yet, the Canadian in me got the best of the situation and it was quite nice to sit inside and watch the storm come through. The huge flakes were pretty, and everything finally felt Christmasy enough for December.

Akin to Drowning

They say that you shouldn’t jump in after a drowning person, that even the strongest swimmer could die while attempting to rescue that person. Drowning people pose a risk not just to themselves but also to the potential rescuer because in their panic it’s possible that they will pull you down with them.

Depression is a lot like drowning. Your pain and inability to “make” yourself happy can pull down the person you are in a relationship with. Their natural instincts are to jump in and save you, because they love you. Despite the fact that in most cases they really have no idea what to do, and are not qualified to help you on their own. After a while they become tired, frustrated, and confused when all their efforts produce very little results. They take it personally, like it is a personal failing on their part because they couldn’t “make” you happy.

If it were just a matter of sheer will power, as a person with clinical depression I would have made myself ecstatic a long time ago. I really don’t enjoy feeling suicidal for the better part of my day, or watching the person I love hurting because of me. At times I think obsessively over what it is that causes me to be this way and why I can’t be happy- do I even know what happy is?

After bearing witness to the slow and painful breakdown of my relationship with Mr. Intellectual due in large part to my depression, I find it difficult to form new relationships. I never want to go through something like that again and feeling responsible for bringing down another human being.

When I look into the future, I see myself alone. Through somewhat twisted logic I just don’t feel right asking someone to take me on, it just doesn’t seem fair. When I’m alone I can cope somewhat better. It’s easier to control my environment and I don’t have the external pressure of living up to expectations or of maintaining a relationship. Each and every relationship I try to sustain brings up this point again and again.

I really don’t have the answer on how to fix this, or what anyone should do. My solution of course, really isn’t a solution at all, but rather an avoidance of the problem all together.

Not Ready for Winter Yet!

From my brother's garden this past summer

Today was quite cold and snowy, and even though it's the beginning of December I'm just not ready to face up to another Canadian winter. In protest I went through my pictures from this past summer to remind me that winter doesn't last forever here, it just feels like it some days. You can't help but think of warm summer sun when looking at tiger lilies.

A Bad Night

He came home drunk and quarrelsome in the early hours of the morning, seething bitterness and malcontent. I was working late, my mind lethargic from a lack of sleep and slow to grasp the situation. Comprehension dawned on me too leisurely, but I quickly countered by retreated into myself as protection.

Words, sharp and barbed, penetrate yielding flesh and leave me reeling. I curl protectively around my vulnerabilities and set my mind free. It’s not enough, the damage is done and my thoughts crystallize on the hurt. I start to question what I’m doing and what I ever get out of this “relationship.” A heavy sadness descends to encompass me, and tears well up behind closed eyelids.

I hold back the feminine instinct to smooth things over, and apologize regardless of who is right or wrong. Instead I sign off and crawl defeated into bed, the covers pulled up tightly to my chin. I know it’s a desperate bid to forget what just happened, but to stay awake is to prolong the anguish.

"...because of, or in spite of."

This semester I've dealt with an unusual situation within the course I'm a graduate teaching assistant for. The long and short of it is that the sessional who is responsible for teaching the online course has essentially abandoned the course and his responsibilities towards the students. In light of this I've had to step up and take on more than my fair share of the work, considering I'm just a lowly Master's student and paid only to do the grunt work of marking assignments, midterms and the final exam.

I was called into a meeting with the chair of the department at my former University where I'm TAing the course to speak about the absent professor. After a discussion of the problem, in which I was told that this individual would essentially be blacklisted from teaching at my former institution for his lapse in duty and completely unprofessional behaviour, it was determined that I would be handling the course as best as I could on my own. I was already responding to emails, discussion board postings, requests for extensions due to medical or compassionate reasons and a host of other student related duties not officially on my work contract.

I took this on because of my students. My mother used to always have this phrase she would tell us while we were in public school and having a hard time with a teacher. I always found it to be annoying and immediately rolled my eyes when she'd tout the one out. She said that we learn because of, or in spite of certain teachers. This is an "in spite of" situation and I genuinely want to see my students learn and succeed regardless of the professor's falling down.

Over the last few day's as the course is winding down and students are gearing up for final exam's I have received a number of really touching emails from my kids, thanking me for all the work I've done for them and with them. Just when I'm reaching the end of my rope, and wondering why I'm doing all the work I am for a mere pittance compared to what they're paying this guy who's supposed to be the professor, these emails show up in my inbox. It's humbling and inspiring all at the same time, all while reminding me why I am here and doing what I'm doing.

I am here for day's like this.

Vanity Plates

I love vanity plates. I like the idea of personalizing something so impersonal as a car to reflect your style. It also makes long trips a little more fun trying to decipher some of the more complex license plates.

Back in high school I bought Mr. Intellectual vanity plates for his first car as a birthday present. It was a little hard to pick something like that for someone else since he had no concrete ideas of what he wanted as a vanity plate and I couldn’t straight out ask without giving away my gift idea. I eventually hit upon Catch 22, which was his favourite novel at the time, and still holds a special place in his heart as far as I know. It was a great surprise and I was actually impressed that it was still available for order and no one had snatched it up ages ago since it’s such a ubiquitous saying in society now. I still love that plate, and if given the chance would take it for my car in a heartbeat.

Catch 22 survived two cars in Mr. Intellectual’s life, however at last check it has been removed from the road. He got a new car a little over a year ago and the plates stayed with his last car, which his Dad drove around for a while. They have since been removed and are sitting in his room at home. For whatever reason’s he has chosen not to use them anymore. It's one of my favourite gifts that I ever gave him and it makes me a little sad to see them put away.

That being said, I was never able to come up with a vanity plate of my own that I was truly happy with as a personal reflection of my style. It wasn’t a pressing issue since I never had my own car and as such was an irrelevant concern, but it was fun to think about. I wanted a plate that reflects my passion for history, my love of education and my playful side. The idea of having “DR HISTRY” was one choice but seems a little pretentious and what happens if I don’t end up finishing my doctorate? My other plate idea was “19141918” for the years of WWI, 1914-1918, since that’s going to be my area of expertise once I’m done my education. Both are currently available as of this morning when I checked the MTO website, but I’m still unsure of having them permanently on my car.

As much as I like “DR HISTRY” I think I’ll leave it alone until I finish the doctorate and then re-evaluate my feelings on its level of pretentiousness. I think in the meantime I have hit upon a choice that I can be happy with indefinitely since it’s properly ambiguous. Recently I’ve been thinking of the Latin term “ex libris” quite a bit, which roughly translates into “from books.”

The only unfortunate part of this plate is that someone already has it, which isn’t surprising. If I want the plate I have to go for “EX LBRIS.” It’s tempting to grab it right now before it’s gone, however eventually Ontario will have to go to 9 character license plates, and when it does I can get the full ex libris since the space counts as one character.

The other thing holding me back is the price tag. At $239.35 it isn’t exactly cheap, but I do remember spending $500 on Mr. Intellectual’s plate since 8 character licenses had just come out and everyone was running to grab the vanity plates they had coveted but couldn’t quite get with only 6-7 characters. I was in high school and my overhead was almost non-existent which is far from the case these days so I’ll just have to shelve this idea until I start making more of a living wage.