Funny thing...

Jan. 10/13

Daily Resolution: Venture somewhere new.

It all started with two burnt-out lightbulbs. These weren't just your average 60 watts that you can find on the end of the kitchen aisle in Safeway. These lightbulbs were the size and shape of corn-on-the-cob holders, down to the two-pronged spikes on the end. If these were just your run-of-the-mill lightbulbs, I would have picked up their replacements by now, because you can find those anywhere.

Today was the day I would pick them up and light would shine down on my bar counter once again. But, silly me, I forgot to bring one of the burnt-out bulbs with me to school this morning and the last time I was at Home Depot there were three possible options for this bulb, so I smiled and walked out with the intention of coming back the next day with the bulb on hand to match with one in the store. On my bus home from school, it drove right past Home Depot and I didn't get off. What would be the point? I planned to get home, grab the bulb, my bike, and head on back to Home Depot.

The funny thing was my bike wasn't there this morning. I didn't panic; I knew Sean must have taken it to work this morning because yesterday he complained about his bike's tire being flat. So, there went that option. Now, I know what you're thinking right now: "She's going to tell us she walked to Home Depot." You; however, would be sadly, unfortunately wrong. But I commend you for your logic, because clearly I haven't got any. Nope, instead I thought to myself, "Well, since that plan is completely out the window now, I might as well cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie." I even secretly fantasized about falling asleep again. I was serious about this plan. I grabbed a blanket from my room, picked a movie on Netflix, and was just adjusting the pillows on the couch around me, when the sun came out and washed over my living room floor. "Wonderful," I thought, "This is the best time for a nap."

Wait....what?! I was clearly still under the weather and out of it, because the fact that I thought that was a good idea for even a second was ludicrous. This was the first burst of sunlight I'd seen since I came back to Victoria a week ago. Was I seriously considering sleeping through it? I didn't go through with it, I promise. Instead, I remembered I had a shirt to exchange at Mayfair Mall, so I checked the bus times, packed my book and some snacks in my bag, and headed out the door without glancing at my couch, lest it hit me with some puppy dog eyes and convince me to stay.

In the spirit of stating the complete obvious, malls aren't new to me. Heck, I used to work in a mall and spend almost every Friday night there in grades eight through eleven. But Mayfair Mall was new to me and, although it didn't have any stores I was unfamiliar with, I was still happy to walk around a place I'd never been before. I felt adventurous and free-spirited and accomplished. I exchanged my shirt, used up a La Senza gift card to buy two pairs of pajama shorts, and left the mall having spent less than $30. And to top it all off, my footloose spirit continued me on to the Uptown Centre to pop in and surprise Sean at work. When I saw his shocked and delighted expression behind the counter, I knew I'd made the right choice to take a break from the couch.

Funny thing is, though, I still haven't bought those lightbulbs.

hap·pi·ness

1. Sunshine! I don't like to admit how much control it has over my mood, but there you have it. Sunshine makes me very happy.

2. Breaking out of my shell to explore a part of the city I can't simply walk to.

3. Sean's smile when he noticed me in his store.

4. The friendly guys at David's Tea who gave me my drink for free. Never mind the fact that I bought seven different flavours of loose tea from them.

5. Bussing/Walking home with Sean and discussing our belated anniversary plans.

The 'S' word.

Jan. 9/13

I may have spoken too soon when I excused those three weeks of indulgence over the Christmas holidays. It's not that I feel guilty; no, the sensation I feel isn't constructed in my mind. It's blocking up my sinuses and stabbing into my right ear. It's causing sneezing, drowsiness, and, most of all, annoyance. 

Eating unhealthy for three weeks stripped my immune system of its fighting power. It defeated all my strongholds and left me weak and defenseless against the "common" cold as if it were Zeus, whose lightning bolts struck me down in the form of endless snot. 

I won't use the 'S' word. I can't. If I use it, if I call it by name, it holds a power over me and I refuse to empower anything that can be conquered by a few cups of white tea, rich in anti-oxidants. I won't say I'm _____, because then the _____ness becomes real, becomes strong. I also won't say it, because then I'm forced to admit that I'm not immune to the sniffles that plagued by niece, my friends at work, my friends outside of work, the cashier at Thrifty's, that girl with the braids on the bus, over the Christmas break. I truly thought I was invincible. I thought that if I didn't catch that bug over Christmas, when everyone else did, then I was in the clear. 

Well, my impromptu four-hour nap on the couch today begged to differ. I couldn't keep my eyes open. It was like I had pounded back half a bottle of gravol. As I napped away my sniffles, I also napped away any hope of fulfilling my daily resolution of being productive on a lazy, grey, day off. I had plans to go for a bike ride, go to a yin class at Moksha, clean and tidy the house, and get a head-start on homework. Instead, I slept. And when I awoke it was dark and I was disoriented, hungry, and no less groggy than before. I was in no state of mind to cross off the items on my checklist. So, I set aside my list for another grey day and revised my daily resolution: If you feel si....err, under the weather, own up to it. The first step to recovery is acceptance. So, there you have it, folks! I'm under the weather and totally owning it. Now, for a cup of tea and a bubble bath. 

hap·pi·ness

1. Kitten cuddles on the couch. 

2. Alliteration! (See above :P)

3. Sean having a good first day at his job. 

4. Nighttime walks to the beach. The salty ocean air does wonders for my sinuses. 

"How's it been, living together?"

Jan. 8/13

Daily Resolution: Quit nagging. Start bragging. 

Sean and I moved in together near the end of September and within the four months we've lived in Victoria, I discovered a terrifying fact about myself: I'm a control freak. If I go to bed before Sean and wake up to find the dishes aren't cleaned, like he said they would be, I go berserk. If he's flung his jacket on the couch, I "calmly" ask him to hang it up, and if he doesn't do so within a minute, I huff and puff, hang it up myself, and then he's left puzzling over why I'm so annoyed at him. If I come home to find the counter a bit dirty, I can't talk to him for half an hour, lest I burst into tears. What? Why does this happen? The truth is, a tiny mess on the counter doesn't bother him like it does me, so it doesn't even dawn on him that I need it wiped away asap. So, why do I give him the silent treatment for not predicting what I unfairly expect of him?

Nobody likes a nag. I dislike being nagged just as much as the next person, so I'm taking a step back to re-evaluate the situation. Instead of nagging Sean for the little things that don't hold up in the long run, it's time to start bragging about him to my friends, to him, and to myself. Now, nobody's truly fond of a brag, either, so I promise I won't go overboard. But when someone asks me, "How's it been, living together?" instead of complaining, "It's been a challenge. Turns out I'm really controlling," I'll say, "It's amazing. I get to go to sleep and wake up next to my best friend." When I notice his coat on the couch, or the dishes piling up, I'll remind myself how much I miss him when he's not around, and how he makes me laugh everyday, even if I'm mad. I'll remind myself that he wakes me up with breakfast on the "odd" day that he pulls an all-nighter and how he left everything behind - his great job, his family, his friends - to be with me in Victoria, a city where he barely knows a soul. I'll remind myself that he is always one of my biggest supporters, whether I'm starting at a new school, at a new lululemon, or challenging myself to complete P90X. If he's so unwavering in his love and support for me, surely I can reciprocate. Why split hairs over a messy counter? That counter won't always be in my life, but if I cash in my bragging rights now, Sean will. 

hap·pi·ness

1. Sleeping in. Only to 9:30, granted, but for me that's still a luxury. 

2. Being back in Mitch Perry's Film Studies class and his self-deprecating/self-absorbed humour. Also, his enthusiasm for all things film related, no matter how eerie or experimental they might be. 

3. Getting into Leslie Bland's Public Speaking class and the excitement/terror of my inevitable "breaking out" of my comfort zone. 

4. The buzz I always get after a phone chat with my dear friend, Nadia. Our talks are sadly few and far between, but when they do happen, they're glorious. 

Resolution on Hold

Jan. 7/13

Daily Resolution: Take time for friends.

I have a confession. I didn't journal yesterday. I know it's only been six days, so there's no reason I should have fallen off this early, but many things happened yesterday to impede my progress and, honestly? I'm okay with it.

1. Instead of journalling, I napped for an hour and a half on the floor in a corner of the University Centre. Why? There was no more couch space (also, I couldn't focus on reading "The Happiness Project" anymore and when I lose focus while reading a book I enjoy, that means it's time to sleep).

2. I spent almost two hours making pasta sauce from scratch so that Sean could eat a delicious home-cooked meal upon his return. This endeavour involved chopping yellow onions, crying about it (in the onion family, they're the awkward cousin no one invites to parties), and peeling, seeding, and dicing tomatoes before cooking them for an hour.

3. While waiting for the tomatoes to cook, I typed up my journal entry from Sunday (would that I could simply type up a first draft without me loathing it. Would that I could).

4. Moments before I was finished blogging, my friend, Alexander, called with an invitation I couldn't refuse: A chance to hang out with our friends Evan, Shannon, and their adorable baby, Elizaveta. "Well, I have to blog and get cat food," I said at first, but fifteen minutes later I was in his car, making a stop-off at Thrifty's for cat food, a tupperware container of spaghetti in my hands, en route to visit with friends, my journal lying on my desk at home, open to an unwritten page, the mess of my cooking still evident all over the counter and stove (Commas are great! And neeeeever overused in my blog :P)

I broke two of my rules yesterday: don't go a day without journalling and don't leave the house without cleaning your mess. But, you know what, who cares? Is a clean kitchen actually more important than a seven-month old girl who laughs when you sing to her? Is it worth missing out on listening to #1 hits of the year we were born (mine's "Walk Like an Egyptian." Elizaveta's is "Gangnam Style") just so I could ramble on for two pages in my journal about nothing in particular? Because, to be honest, I didn't know the "theme" for January seventh's journal entry until after I skipped out on writing it. Good things come to those who stray from the beaten path.

hap·pi·ness

 

1. Everything about Elizaveta. Especially how she stopped crying when I picked her up; how she wasted no time with crawling and headed straight for walking; how she laughed and clapped with glee when Evan and Shannon crawled towards her; and her excitement about everything. Seriously! When did the rest of us stop getting excited about hands and feet and faces?

2. It took Evan, Alexander, and I half an hour to pick out a bag of chips because we were laughing so much. All Evan had to do was put a box of Pampers on his head and say," Look, I'm wearing a diaper hat." Why that was so funny to us, I'll never know.

3. When my bag of Kettle Brand baked Sea Salt chips failed to live up to Dill Pickle Baked Lay's chips, Alexander shared his chocolate peanut butter pretzel Dairy Milk bar with me. And it was glorious. And also had a hint of coffee flavour. Very curious.

4. Sean and Pippin coming home! I really missed those boys.

Every instrument needs some fine tuning.

Jan. 6/13

"Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own." - Mary Schmich

Daily Resolution: Don't cut yourself so much slack that you lose sight of what you actually need.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who let themselves go for the holidays. For the entire month of December, someone new each day was appointed the job of bringing Christmas baking into work (If it weren't for Anna's spiced seeds, all I would have eaten for two weeks is peppermint bark and chocolate-covered pretzels). And then there were all those Christmas dinners and shindigs to attend. I will never complain about an invitation to a gathering with food, but where was my restraint? Lost somewhere in the midst of Aunt Margaret's Mars Bar coated Rice Krispie Squares, Homemade apple pie, crackers and baked brie - so much baked brie - and Dill Pickle Baked Lay's. They're baked, so they're healthy ... right?

While on this three week rampage, I resolved not to feel guilty about what I ate (although there was an actual Brie cheese ball lodged behind my left rib, so I wasn't too keen on that). And I didn't feel too guilty. I might have made a few comments here and there - "Oh, god, I really shouldn't, but, oh, what the hell?" - but overall I was happy to fall off the wagon for a while. First of all, all that sugary, salty, "fatty" food is good. Really good. And second, there's a simple reason why people indulge a bit more over the holidays, besides the food's tastiness and your proximity to it (I somehow couldn't remove myself from the vicinity of the baked brie). It's because everyone else is eating it, they eat it every year, and you don't want to be left out of the tradition. It's the same reason I ate ham for Christmas last year after being a vegetarian for six months; I didn't miss the taste so much as I missed the feeling of my whole family gathering around and enjoying a Christmas meal together. I allowed myself that exception just that once, didn't feel guilty about it, but will probably not do it again (believe it or not, meat has even less flavour than you remember after abstaining from it for so long. It was easy to cut it out the first time, but even easier the second time).

So I indulged. And indulged. But another thing happened simultaneously: My main source of transport switched from walking to driving; I practiced less yoga; and I sat around with more glasses of wine in my hand than I'd had in all of 2012. Once again, I had to be okay with that. I had only a short time to spend with my family and friends and I didn't want to waste those precious hours worrying about my weight, or working it off. And I didn't. But I'm back in Victoria, back to the grind, and back to a regular routine. There's no excuse anymore. I need to get back on that wagon...horse...bike?

But the truth is, I don't need to start exercising again because I feel fat, or because the suppressed guilt of the last three weeks finally caught up with me. It's because my lower back gets sore whenever I sit at my computer for too long. Because my right hip flexor is always a bit tighter than my left, and sometimes gets pins and needles. And because I still can't talk when walking up the hill on Moss Street, because it gets in the way of my heavy breathing and I refuse to let it get the best of me (just to be clear, I'm not that out of shape. It's just a mother of a hill).

For years now, I would look into the future at myself and see I was in better shape than present-day me - my hips weren't tight; I could swim twice as many laps; I didn't dislike running; I didn't have perpetual knots in my back and shoulders - but what was I doing now, today, to ensure such a positive future was guaranteed? I went to a yin yoga class at Hemma today and, while it wasn't rigorous and I didn't break a sweat, it was one of the most challenging classes I've attended. It's not just my hip that's tight. My hamstrings screamed at me when I reached down for my toes and child's pose, a resting pose, had me fidgeting the whole time. Of course, doing the opposite of what you should do in yoga, I kept asking myself "What's wrong with me? I used to be able to do this." Key words: used to. I also used to do the splits without pulling a muscle (or five) and get into wheel pose by standing and bending backwards. Kids are seriously invincible in so many ways that they don't realize they'll eventually take for granted. But now that I'm not a kid, I fully appreciate the ease with which I used my bones and muscles back then. I'm still young enough and have the resources (yoga) to start correcting the years of stiff joints and sore muscles that I've accumulated over 25 years. I want future me to look back on past me and thank herself (myself?) for having the good sense to make a change before it was too late.

hap·pi·ness

1. The pride of actually getting up in the morning to go to yoga, without any external motivation. 

2. A yoga class that kicked my butt and knocked some sense in me.

3. The suggestion of rain, without the rain itself. A damp pavement. A water droplet dangling from the tip of a leaf. The smell of a fresh start on the air. 

4. Oatmeal with yogurt, fruit, and peanut butter. Thank you, Anna Smith, for your genius idea. 

Hangriness averted.

Jan. 5/13

My fridge is bare. On the outside, it's covered in Scrabble magnets, happiness-related word magnets,
chewed-up gum magnets, and pictures of friends. But on the inside, there's a container of leftover tofu marinade - I guess I thought I would use it up with a different meal, but it's probably been sitting there since November - and half a carton of eggs. On the whiteboard in my room, under the title 'To-Do List,' all that's left is 'Buy Groceries.' I wrote that on Thursday. It's now Saturday. Why haven't I crossed this off my list, yet?

I don't have a car. Not uncommon for a starving student like me and not really inconvenient, either, except when it comes to buying groceries. It's maybe only a seven-minute walk to the nearest Thrifty's, so grocery shopping shouldn't be so taxing, but I always end up making it an event. Clear your schedules, guys, I'm going grocery shopping, and I need every hand able to carry a bag. Well, these past few days, the only available hands have been my own. Sean's still in Calgary, until Monday, so I keep putting this off until he comes back, but the problem is that my fridge is empty of food, and so am I.  And believe me, I even considered using the suitcase technique, tried, tested, and true from my laundry endeavour, but I envisioned all the eggs spilling out of its carton, cracking on the cans of soup, which toppled over on to the bananas and acovados, squishing and bruising them to a nearly inedible state. I need a suitcase that doesn't tilt to one end, that sits flat. I need a little red Radio Flyer wagon. Upon searching on Amazon, I see that there's one for only $20, which worries and intrigues me. How big is it? Is it a wagon that little three year-old girls trail behind them, carting their porcelain dolls around in, or can it hold at least three bags of groceries? Two would even suffice. On the other hand, if it is tiny, I'm only out $20.

In the meantime; however, I don't yet own a Radio Flyer wagon, and my fridge is still bare. So, I'll suck it up. I'll just have to buy as much as I can carry and wait for Sean to get here to help me with the rest. Daily resolution resolved: Buy groceries. Not the most profound of goals I can come up with, but no less important. A girl's gotta eat.

hap·pi·ness

1. Working my first shift back with my Johnson Street lulu family again.

2. Being able to laugh at, and move forward from, a slight "controversial" social media debacle at work.

3. 'How I Met Your Mother' and 'New Girl' marathons.

4. Living two blocks from Fairfield Market so I can buy the first half of my groceries before work.

5. Market on Yates being on the way home so I can buy the second half of my groceries after work. Not to mention how it's open late, too, for my convenience :)

6. Baked yams for dinner. Or any meal of the day. Seriously, try them.

Chores, bores.

Jan. 4/13

Daily resolution: Stop making chores a chore.
Let's face it; nobody likes chores. As a kid I might have assumed my parents loved them, because they did them all the time, but when I saw their delighted expressions when I was old enough to be appointed tasks, I quickly realized they weren't as delighted at my job well done as they were relieved to be rid of the chore. And even though my brother, Liam, and I shared the duty of doing dishes - and we made it as fun as possibly by singing 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer' and building castles with the dishes piled on top of each other - this task seemed to take a lot out of me and it wasn't long before I learnt the "It has to soak" trick. But I'm a grown-up now, complete with my own adult responsibilities, and I can't pull off the soaking trick for too long before all my dishes are crammed into a sink of dissolved bubbles and cold water and I have fifteen minutes to scour through the tight pile of pots and pans, wash my dish with all the rest of them crowding around the tap, and make breakfast before flying out the door. Do you have any idea how close I've been to missing my bus in the morning, on multiple occasions, because of my allergy to chores? Well, it has to stop. It's a source of contention in my life and I bring it on myself.

I made the change this afternoon. I cranked up my itunes, sang along with The Zolas at the top of my lungs, danced on the spot, and scrubbed dishes. I wasn't doing anything different; this was my usual routine when cleaning, but this time I approached it with a new perspective. These days, with the exception of listening to my ipod en route to work or school, the only time I listen to music is when I'm performing an otherwise dull and mundane task. I find it hard to just sit and listen to music, with no other preoccupation or obligation. I might be in trouble for admitting that; other music lovers might be shaking their heads at me, but I can't sit still when listening to music. In order to enjoy music, I need to move. Washing dishes, then, is really an incredible way to experience a song. The rhythm of each scrub of cloth on a teflon frying pan matches perfectly the drumbeat in "Houdini." Later, when I was sweeping, I was really dancing, and the broom was the perfect partner, albeit a bit skinny and rigid. And laundry, well, laundry's even more of a chore for me because I take my clothes to a laundromat. I used to trudge up the steepest hill in Victoria with my laundry bag slung across my shoulder, constantly shifting and adjusting so the strap didn't dig into the same spot on my shoulder for too long. Laundry shifted from a chore I begrudged to a joy when I had the epiphany of all epiphanies: bring the clothes in a suitcase! So simple, right? But it took me four months to dawn on it. Now, today, instead of a chore, I was granted the gift of a leisurely stroll through my neighbourhood. It's amazing how much fun you can have when you stop brooding about your problems and start looking for solutions.

hap·pi·ness

 

1. Receiving mail that isn't bills. Last year's Christmas gift from Nadia, "How to Train Your Dragon," awaited me in the mailbox. Must have been lost in transit or something :P

2. Calling Edulinx, getting straight through to a real, live person, and being done the entire phone call in under ten minutes.

3. A resentment-free clean house.

4. The smell of rain in the air.

5. Payday! Not to be materialistic or anything, but it's always a nice feeling knowing you can pay rent and feed yourself for another month.