Routines and Traditions

I don't have anyone to talk to, and my friend Re said it wasn't obnoxious even to post every day in a blog, so you guys get to hear more about my eccentricities. (TOO BAD!)

So, one of my plans for Easter, because I absolutely love doing Easter Egg Hunts, was to put a bunch of mini egg inside a hollow Easter egg shell, duct taping it up, and sticking a bunch of them in the living room for the cats to play with. Come morning, I'd have to hunt them all down, and it would be my Easter Egg Hunt!

...But, I forgot to go to Dollarama yesterday to pick up the hollow eggs, so now I'm sitting on my couch feeling mopey.

My family moved around a lot when I was younger, and we never really slacked from family traditions. It was the only solid thing in my life. What with my OCD tendencies, I really need the rituals and routines that come from certain holidays, or I emotionally feel stressed and panicked the entire time.

This Christmas I spent my time with my boyfriend and his family. Normally, I would put up the tree and decorations while my parents would watch, we'd all open one present under the tree, then drink and talk about silly stories while crappy Christmas music played in the background.

This Christmas, we opened all the presents on Christmas Eve, then ate chips and nacho dip, while watching the remake of "Total Recall". I'm not going to lie, the lack of the normal routine made me feel jittery and off, so I started drinking faster than normal. By the end of the night, I was drunk.

I still really enjoyed myself, but it got me thinking...

One of the things that I really look forward to doing with my own family is making my own little family rituals and traditions with them.

I guess that's why I feel mopey now. I don't really have a family. I'm too old to still do everything with my parents, and I'm too young to have started my own family yet. I mean, hey, if I was really all that concerned, I suppose I could have just stayed with my ex and been married and had a kid by now (he had a tendency to push his own agenda) but I don't think that would have solved the problem.

I guess what I'm trying to express is, in between that time where you are no longer close with your parents, and before you find who is your family for the rest of your life, where are you?

I can't really see myself just spending about ten or so years alone, for every holiday.

So... what do you all think? (Comment below.)

My Little Quirks (Number 34 of 18758394958)

Happy Easter, everyone!

What am I doing for Easter, you ask? Well, apparently I will be staying home, cleaning my apartment and feeling sorry for myself.

I'd like to hang out with some friends or even family, but they all made their own plans, and I've been so busy this month, I forgot to make any of those plans.

Living alone has moments like this, where you're reminded forcibly that YOU LIVE ALONE and unless you force those social interactions, you're going to have nothing to do, get all mopey and upset, and end up eating too much comfort food.

So I decided I was going to share another one of my insecurities that I'm working to overcome.

I can't message someone to ask them if they would like to hang out.

Have you ever noticed that I never contact you unless we're already out in public together, and it comes up in conversation? Well, I'm not good at messaging someone out of the blue and asking if they'd like to hang out.

It leads in to my fear of rejection, and of bothering others. You may not realize this from my big mouth, but I am terrified of getting rejected, and the thought that I may be bothering someone puts me into a cold sweat. Sounds strange, doesn't it?

I attempt to do little lead ins, like maybe putting a funny picture on their Facebook wall, or actually having something to ask them that they may know the answer to, or even updating them on something important that's happening in my life. (See "I'm getting a third cat!" If that's not a cry for attention, I don't know what is.) But after the conversation is wrapped up, I'm still sitting at home, staring at my phone with a furrowed brow on my face, practically blubbering at how frustrated I am that I can't just ask them if "they'd like to go out for coffee" with me.

I'm proud that I've gotten this far, whereas before I wouldn't even attempt a conversation, but I always push myself farther because I'm unhappy that I'm not perfect. Logically I understand it's not possible, emotionally, I'm sitting in the corner of the room hugging my legs with my back outwards and a dark cloud hanging over my head.

You may be reading this and going "Well, how could she think she's bothering anyone?"

Well, to give you an example, I never call anyone other than my family members, everyone else I message. So tone in text is very important to portray properly. And unfortunately a lot of people I message DO NOT convey their emotions properly via textual format.

So a message like this "Sounds like fun!" which was probably meant in a joking way, in my mind becomes "I'm busy, and you keep annoying me. Can you not just take a hint and leave me alone, already? Christ, you're so annoying."

With assumed tones like this, I quickly detach from the conversation with some lame excuse such as, "Well, I have to go to bed now (I never do) so I hope you have a good night!" and then I sit in the corner with my arms wrapped around my legs and a dark cloud hanging over my head.

Ah, such is the life of the crazy cat lady who lives alone!

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I may be looking for a roommate now. Must not be allergic to cats, must be able to handle my OCD and other neuroses, must be able to pull me out my funks, and MUST sit on the couch and have coffee with me, and discuss little things that run around in their heads.

That's right, I like having one on one conversations over coffee in the morning. Why do you look so surprised?

Partner, Not Wife

I've been dwelling on this a lot recently, and I've decided to share my thoughts on it.

To explain the back story, when I was 17, I was kicked out of my house, because my mother had been drinking and blew a situation out of proportion. She wanted to know about a fight between my then boyfriend and I. I didn't want to talk about it, and I said so. Her reasons behind wanting to know stemmed from needing to know if he had hurt me physically or emotionally, but I said no, I was just ashamed of the ugly things I had said to him. The more she drank, the more belligerent she got, until finally she said "You either tell me, or you get out."

"Fine." I said. "I'll get out."

I called my boyfriend, and he came over, not to just pick me up to take me to his place (where, sensing one of my mother's moods, I had previously asked his mother if it would be possible to crash at their place to finish out my high school career) but instead he tried to mediate the situation. At the end of it, my father finally understood that I just didn't want to talk about it at that moment, maybe later, but my mother kept pushing, and so I left.

When I moved into their house, I began getting some stability I really needed. I went to bed without being woken by any drunken people blasting music, I was encouraged to eat what I liked when I was hungry, which meant I wasn't eating cereal in the mornings anymore. Which was good as I am lactose intolerant, and  I couldn't understand why eating in the mornings made me feel sick.

There was only one problem.

"My mother is looking at you to see if you would be good wife material." he mentioned flippantly.

"And?" I asked, my insecure side needing validation.

He lifted a shoulder, dropped it, and started talking about cooking and cleaning.

Okay, I'm older now, so I now know the proper response to this.

I am a woman. I am not developing just to become someone's wife. Maybe later on in life I may look into being someone's partner for life, but that will only be when I and the other person in the relationship is ready.

Second of all, being a partner to someone does not mean cooking for them, or cleaning up after their mess or making sure they have all their wants and needs supplied for them.

Being a partner, means, to me, being there for them if they need you, them being there for you, not wanting to spend the rest of your life with them, but not seeing your life without them. A partner is there in good times and bad, whether you're married or common law, broke or rich, tired, sore, happy, energetic, as a sounding board, as a listener, as someone to debate with. They don't have to always be around, but they never make you feel lonely. You are both proud of each others' successes, and believe anything else is just a minor setback in which you can either eat a ton of ice cream together, drink, or cry and commiserate with together. They are your best friend.

I'm pretty damn glad I wouldn't make a suitable wife, because I am firmly of the belief that I am an awesome partner. And it doesn't have anything to do with my practically spotless home, or ridiculously delicious baking and cooking skills.

I'm an awesome partner because I care.

(My seventeen year old self is now giving you the finger, for even thinking it was okay to say that shit.)

Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming ***+18 ONLY - GRAPHIC CONTENT***

Okay, normally, I do not get involved in political issues. Nor do I get involved in movements, (for example Occupy Fredericton) or any other type of big issue topic.

But now I'm just pissed. So instead of the snarky post I was going to make on skin care, you get to listen to me rant about the Steubenville verdict.

To briefly describe the story, a football team full of minors had superiority complexes and one night at a party, a group of young boys took advantage of a drunk girl while she was unconscious  They digitally penetrated her, and attempted to force her to engage in oral sex. After the night was over, the girl woke up, unclear of anything that happened the night before, but luckily, bystanders not only took pictures of her being sexually assaulted, there was also a video and plenty of texts (in expert reports, over 30,000 were reported) to inform her.

The two boys who did the touching were charged guilty while three other boys were granted immunity by becoming witnesses. The two boys, Mays and Richmond will be behind bars until they are 21.

I agree with this sentence. In descriptions of the events, there is a shocking lack of empathy and respect for women overall, and a complete disregard of right and wrong. I fully believe these boys needed to go to jail. I say this as someone who has taken criminal law courses, and understands that the Justice system isn't just there for punishment, but for REHABILITATION. This community needed to be torn apart by the verdict, and a point proven, because their young people need to be educated properly, that these events should not happen. They're wrong.

But that's not why I'm ranting today. I'm ranting today because I was shown a link. A link where people with their opinions post on the internet.

Are you prepared for the idiocy? Then click the link below, and read up before you continue.

 http://publicshaming.tumblr.com/

Are you back with me? Good.

I AM ONLY GOING TO SAY THIS ONCE. VICTIM BLAMING AND SLUT SHAMING IS WRONG.

It doesn't matter what I'm doing, getting wasted while wearing a bikini, that body is still mine and I am not asking for it. I am not in the wrong for treating my body however the hell I want. You are in the wrong for thinking that it means you also can do that without my permission.

Being wasted does not mean she's asking for it. Wearing any type of clothes does not mean she's asking for it. Having a large number of sex partners does not mean she's asking for it.

We are your daughters, mothers, sisters, nieces, aunts and friends. Start treating us as such, give us the respect we deserve.

Stop telling us to be aware of our surroundings to avoid getting raped. Start controlling your urges and seek help so that you don't rape. Stop slut shaming and victim blaming.

And this goes to any gender. Forcing a guy is just as wrong as forcing a woman. When I say I want equality, I mean it. It's not just women that get raped.

Feminism: for equal rights.

Now pardon me while I go work out my anger.

No Caffeine? Yeah, Problem.

I noticed with winter taking its sweet time leaving us, I've become more irritable and moody. With winter for me comes many things. I no longer exercise as much, I don’t get much sunlight, and I don’t have much opportunity to see people I like.

But, I figured maybe I've been having too much caffeine and it makes me touchy.

So I went off caffeine for a little bit.

The first day I was already feeling irritable because I had to wake up early for work and the lack of caffeine left me feeling slow. I wasn't all there. I definitely missed the taste in the morning so I substituted with some decaffeinated Columbian. It wasn't as great as the usual Hazelnut blend I like to drink. (So I like flavored coffee, and?)

The next day I was definitely feeling signs of withdrawal. I had a pounding headache, and I could barely bring myself to move off my couch at all. I eventually left the couch to hang out with some friends and go bowling. Unfortunately I was sluggish the entire time and grouchy, even though the physical activity should have been a mood pick-me-up. I eventually self-medicated with alcohol. My entire mood was listless.

The third day being off caffeine, I had a shift at work in the evening. It was hard to pull myself out of bed, and I still had the headache. My mood was also very listless and even though I was off caffeine, I still found myself worrying and stressing about other things. Speaking frankly, my higher brain functions weren't quite as active as I would have liked. Normally I would work out on Mondays but it took forever to force myself through the motions.

The fourth day off caffeine was a Tuesday, one of my days off work. I was working a charity booth at a downtown mall for a few hours. I drank my decaf coffee, and moved my sluggish butt downtown, where I had a hard time focusing on anything, or using my minuscule people skills for anything useful, other than playing Tetris BADLY on a phone. After I was done there, I went home and had a nap for the first time in years. I woke up slowly and worse than usual. I was grouchy, and I still had the headache. I went out to socialize with some friends and wasn't quite up to my usual par mentally. I had a hard time making conversation, and a delayed reaction.  Later that night, I did have some physical activity that upped my endorphins and made me feel better for a bit, but the headache continued.

The fifth day off caffeine was a Wednesday, where nothing changed, except the headache went away. The listlessness, sluggish behavior and delayed reaction times continued.

The sixth day off caffeine I had to wake up early for work again, and I had a long shift. I felt dull, and the previous symptoms continued.

The seventh day off caffeine was definitely a dull day for me. I had a Friday shift, it was busy, and I didn't feel up to par at all. It was probably the worst day out of the week in all. My brain finally felt like it was catching up, only to scream at me, telling me that normally, a Friday shift is no big deal for me, and I should be moving faster. I dragged myself out to a music show afterwards, and was almost grateful for the lack of intelligence or motor function needed.

The eighth day off was a Saturday and another long double shift. I finally began to feel a little more like myself when I got a huge endorphin rush later in the night, but it was short lived. I also found that while telling a friend a story, my memory wasn't what it normally would be. Then when I went on a date later that night, I almost passed out at the theatres, and my conversation was definitely not stimulating. I passed out almost exactly a half hour later, which was as soon as I got home, changed, and into bed.

The last day was Sunday, a day off, and the lack of proper memory, slowed reaction times and sluggishness made me turn to more couch potato activities. I also completely messed up and was half way through drinking a can of pepsi when I had a delayed reaction of realizing caffeine was in it.

So the experiment of attempting to go 6 weeks without caffeine failed, because I had a brain lapse, but I realized as long as I keep to a regular sleeping schedule, and I only have coffee before 10 am, I can handle the so-called irritability I thought caffeine was giving me.

So maybe no caffeine is good for some, but judging from that one week, not for me. Conduct your own experiments and form your own conclusions.