Great Expectations

It's been awhile since we've chatted about anything serious, so I'm making a point to put a bit of substance here. This isn't only for you, either. Writing my thoughts out helps order them, thus making them more concise and less confusing to myself. The fun stuff can be entertaining, but aren't most of us here to learn and grow? I certainly am. The last twenty years of my life has involved some serious growth, internally and externally. Yes, there have been missteps, mistakes, and miscalculations, but for the most part, I've been diligent about finding the light and embracing love.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not quite the ray of sunshine or shard of rainbow that I'd love to be. There are some days I am the epitome of grumpy and I get disappointed and sad and angry too. In fact, I probably experience at least one, if not all three, of those emotions every single day of my life. But I have goals. And I am working towards letting my baggage go, because the wheels on one of the bags are shot and the other one's a rucksack and carrying it around on my back all the time is starting to mess with my posture.

I once heard nothing really matters as long as you keep moving forward. So, that's what I'm doing. And I make a point of checking-in with myself and making sure I'm still on the right path. I am trying my best to carry the light within. And I am also trying to love freely, myself and all of you as well, without demanding too much of either of us.

Here is where expectations enter.

In my most humble of opinions, expectations are for the birds. Meaning, they are pointless and, if I'm being honest, counterproductive to the whole happiness thing. Expecting things from someone else seems to unfair, especially since expectations often come without vocalization. Expectations come with an unrealistic amount of expectation. Confusing, right? You betcha. It's so befuddling that we expect people to know what our expectations are. On top of not actually telling people what we want and need, we also overlook the fact that these people also have lives of their own, their own struggles, and their own wants and needs. And, sadly, their own expectations as well.

Are you fulfilling all of the expectations people have of you? An even better question is, are you fulfilling all the expectations you have of yourself? I am guessing the answer is no. At least, not all of them. So, if you can't live up to your own expectations, how can you expect it of others?

I am of the firm belief that people come into our lives for different reasons and will give us what we need if we allow them to. In the grand scheme of things, we are here to help each other out, to lend support, and provide one another mental, physical and emotional stimulation. Sure, there are yahoos and nimrods along the road who try to throw a wrench in the spanner of our journey to find happiness and enlightenment, but they are far and few between. And as we meet on the path of life, we have to understand that not every person is going to fulfill all our needs and wants. One person might pick us up when we fall down and another might deliver the tough love we need when we're being foolish.

Not every relationship is the same and we need to be aware what our friends and family members individually provide us. The key is not to expect of them something they are not capable of giving. It make take awhile to figure out what it is you get from the people in your lives, or what they are there to give you, but once you do puzzle it out, you probably will find the need for expectations diminishes, and eventually you are only holding one person accountable - yourself.

From my experiences, expectations are the leading cause of disappointments. Sure, it seems cynical, but we constantly set ourselves up to be let down because we demand unrealistic things from people we love. What a predicament.  Simply put, people change, relationships change, dynamics change and life is tiring. At any given time, you are not the only one going through a rough patch, or in need of help. I can safely say, someone you know could use a break and a little love right this very minute.

For the most part, we are all exhausted and struggling and broke and dealing with the chaos of living. So, let's take away the added pressure of expectations. After all, isn't it more heartwarming to have someone give a little love unexpectedly? Doesn't it feel more rewarding when it comes with out demands or expectation?

Same Old

It feels as if every time I sit down to write to you all I can think about is how tired I am. Those kinds of posts are getting tedious. Promise this will be the last one to mention how incredibly exhausted I am for at least a month or two. This is a tall promise, but I anticipate doing nothing for the next quarter of the year. If anyone asks, I am taking the Fall off from any form of physical labour, asides working (because I've gots ta pay the bills, y'all).

So, we have officially moved. Goodbye, small blue house in cute little village. Hello, retro home in the heart of a sweet hamlet. I am nearly ocean front with a mountain view and, after only five nights sleeping here, am in love. Not everything is perfect, but there are perfect parts, and that's really all I can ask for.

There are things I want to tell you. Thoughts I have been pondering. Blogs I have been mulling over as I drive, walk, pack, unpack, lift, clean, bake and create. There is a wealth of information share, like moments and events and, most importantly, recipes. And I have deep revelations I want to talk out, mostly great expectations and being beautiful. The problem has been time management, which mostly has come down to me not having any extra time to manage. Between work, moving, and trying to help out with my boss' surprise birthday party, I haven't had a moment to sit down and chat.

This is why I am happy to report the craziness is drawing to a close.

Almost all the things are done.

Tomorrow I will hit you with something with a little more length, a bit deeper and, perhaps, some sort of moral or life lesson I have learned. Until then, here is a selfie I took in my car today. Sometimes I get bored and make faces.

So, I'm Sitting Here

Trying to come up with something to write. Some days are harder than others. A blog a day seems like a good idea (not really) but on those bone weary dog tired days it's hard to come up with a subject, let alone write anything worthy of reading. Just between the two of us, I sometimes half-ass things. I don't really know what that means. No, really. What's the difference from half assing and full assing. I mean, I know it comes down to the amount of effort put in, but where did this colloquialism come from?

In regards to blog topics, many a things are running through my head. Mindy Kaling. Hitting the proverbial wall. Snacking. Powering through a less than stellar day. Knitting. Being appreciated. Crappy gifts. These all could be good, if I were in the right frame of mind, feeling witty and whatnot, but these topics aren't really striking my fancy. (What is a fancy? And why does it need striking?)

This is when I notice I'm not alone in this room. Dixon is with me. And he's up to no good. He's half on the coffee table and sitting on the couch. And he's pulling a box of Hot Tamales closer to him, inch by inch, ever so slowly. His little teeth and flappy gums have the edge of the red box. There is such concentration on his face.

I am sitting right here. Does he not see me here? Am I invisible? Does he think this is okay? What is his next step?

Last time I checked he wasn't allowed on the coffee table and we never let him eat candy. In fact, I am pretty certain the last time he ate a bunch of food off the coffee table was a year and a half ago when he overindulged on a bunch of Christmas goodies when no one was looking. Mostly chocolate. But there was some severe scolding.

I thought he learned his lesson.

When I asked, "What exactly are you doing?"

He jumped. Like he hadn't factored into the equation getting caught. It kind of seems as if he forgot I was sitting here. I have no doubt in my mind he would have eaten the whole box. Chances are I would have been waking up at four in the morning to let him outside.

Dogs are the best.

The Cool Side Of The Pillow

Couldn't sleep last night.

It comes and goes. As someone who used to sleep all but a couple hours a night, I can handle a little tossing and turning. While laying there in bed, the half moon streaming through my window, I thought about sleeping. Everyone has their way of doing things.

Myself, I like a cold room. Fresh air is a must. A little fan noise - a quirk I picked up from my ex - and lots of pillows. I prefer blankets to quilts. And I always stick my foot out from under the blankets. I think it helps to regulate body heat.

But you know what I really love the most.

The cool side of the pillow.

Boy, did I think I was clever when I thought up the name of this blog. It actually stuck with me all through the night and well into the morning. Now I am wondering if the parallel between the title and Dark Side of the Moon will be lost.

Sleeping. Bed. Night. Moon. Pink Floyd.

Maybe not such a clever title.

Anyhow, back to my pillow.

You know when you flip the pillow and rest your cheek on the chilly fabric. That's my favourite. There's something incredibly reassuring about that feeling for me. Wish I could pinpoint exactly why. Probably has something to do with being a child, but I reckon I'm not the only one who relishes the pillow flip.

Perhaps it's a small and insignificant thing to be grateful for, but aren't those the greatest things to ruminate over?

Funny thing, I just (as in right this very second) consulted Dr. Googles on this business and apparently the Family Guy has felt it worthy enough for a mocking. Now I know I'm not alone.

No Such Luck - Day 29

Last night, I was supposed to watch Poltergeist. I've never seen it before, you see, and I was looking forward to finally crossing it off my short list of classics I've yet to indulge in.

First, the MKV version I had wouldn't play on my xbox, then the MP4 file was corrupted. Well, a girl can take a hint. So, I didn't end up watching Poltergeist at all. Instead, I watched a truly terrifying flick called Sleepless In Seattle. I still have chills.

Okay, okay, comedy hour is over. This is what I really watched.

Title: Cabin In The Woods
Year: 2012
Synopsis: Five friends go for a break at a remote cabin in the woods, where they get more than they bargained for. Together, they must discover the truth behind the cabin in the woods.

Tagline: You think you know the story.
Thar be spoilers in this here review! Because I can't write a rave review about this without telling you just what I thought was amazing.

When I went to go see this movie in the theatre, I thought it was going to be another slasher teen flick. You know, the movie where the ridiculously good-looking main characters do a bunch of stupid shit and they all get killed in clichéd ways and you roll your eyes because it's all soooooo predictable.

I was wrong.

Granted, on the surface, it does look like that kind of movie. The overtly sexual blonde bimbo is dating the douche-face jock. Stoner guy is thrown in for comedic effect while you assume the virgin is going to be the only survivor in the movie. Actually, like so many horror movies, there is a gang of kids that kind of resemble Scooby-Doo. It makes me laugh how accurate that statement is.

Upfront, I can address why a lot of people didn't like this. There are two groups of people, the 'what the hell is going on crowd' who don't like it when a movie is one upping them and they can't figure out the plot. These people are the ones who will walk out before the movie is completed because it doesn't make any sense and it seems like a couple other horror flicks they've seen before. Basically, they have no patience and shouldn't be allowed in the door to a movie of this calibre.

The second crowd is the 'I've seen every horror movie known to man and I will never be happy with anything big Hollywood does'. These elitist horror snobs are the worst. They can't enjoy anything except for seventies Italian horror and Foreign films with knife wielding and a fair bit of pert nipplery. These folks are annoyed because this movie used ideas other movies that came before used. Apparently, they didn't get the memo that there are no original ideas and people borrow, modify and steal lines, characters, plot points all the time.

To be blunt, when I went to go see this, it'd been a long time since I saw a truly good horror movie. Cabin in the Woods is at once a parody of the horror genre and also a tribute. In a lot of ways, it is like a magic trick, a genius case of misdirection, but revealed to the audience.

First, they show you what you already expect to happen. The Scooby-Doo gang, all good-looking college students, going to an isolated cabin for a chance to kick back and relax. Because we have all seen this a hundred times before, we check our watches and think to ourselves, good another hour of blood and mayhem and I can get home and trash this on my blog. That's when the zombies make an appearance. Well, not just zombies. The zombie redneck family!

Second, they hit you with a sub-plot and start to explain things, a bit. This is where you have the 'wait, something else is going on here', thought. What are these tech guys talking about? What are they betting on? Wait, they know who the Scooby-Doo gang is? They've been watching them. Wow. So, this whole weekend getaway has been orchestrated? The dumb shit these seemingly stupid characters are doing has all been planned? Nothing is as it seems? It's all a giant set-up!!! At this point, our brains explode, but we are delighted because this is new. This is exciting. We didn't plan for this.

Or it's where you walk out of the theatre.

Last, they deliver the big reveal. The climax. Why this group of techie nerds is harbouring every monster known to man in the pits of this underground lab. What these kids have been sacrificed for. And how it all was able to be worked out. This is the part where a lot of people asked 'is this for real?" It is. It is so for real.

The most important reason for you to go and watch this movie is to see the epic monster battle scene. I can't even explain it. I will simply say, the unicorn made my day. And it doesn't end the way you think it does. In fact, nothing about this movie is what you think it is. If you don't like to laugh during horror movies, or if you have a serious case of the 'nothing-is-ever-good-enough-for-mes', then just pass on watching this, okay, fun killers!

 Honestly, the only disappointing part is the ending. Not the end itself, but the fact that there can't really be a sequel. And I would have loved to have seen a sequel for this one!

Double Feature - Day 9

To be honest, I'm not sure which of last night's movies to write about today. So, I think I'll do both of them. And why not? It's my blog after all and I can do whatever I damn well please. Within reason.

So, watch out world, this wild woman is getting crazy up in here!

And so ...

Title: The Descent
Year: 2005
Synopsis: A caving expedition goes horribly wrong, as the explorers become trapped and ultimately pursued by a strange breed of predators.

Tagline: Scream your last breath.

Once upon a time, a girl named Sarah loses her husband and daughter in a car accident. Sometime later, she convinces her friend Juno to put together a spelunking expedition. Of course, they end up in a cave that basically implodes on them, trapping the girls. Also, one of the six wants a moment of glory and doesn't tell the others there is no map. Oh, and the cave has never been explored before. Now they have to find their way out. Since this is horror, you can probably guess not all of them make it out alive.

And there is something else going on. 

There are these beings down in this cave. Who happen to have cannibalistic tendencies. 

That being said, I really liked this movie. Not only were the 'creatures' fantastically frightening, but all the actors could hold their own. For a movie centring around six girls down in a dark, dank hole, it was surprisingly enjoyable. I didn't find myself annoyed over the banter at all. Granted, the Sidekick didn't understand any of the jokes at the beginning of the movie and had a perplexed sort of confounded look to him until they actually got down into the cave. Despite what he may think, the beginning is important because it shows the girls just being girls. Bluntly, the director and writer collectively are doing their damnedest to show how 'normal' and generally happy the friends are. 

Sure, the movie does leave us wondering a few things, like how these creatures came to be down in this cave and where they came from. But that didn't detract from the plot at all. In fact, I liked it. I used my own imagination and choose to believe they were once human and, over time, turned blind and got super quick speediness. Because I don't want to spoil the ending for anyone, I won't touch on  why I am glad I did what they did. 

And as we all know, I love when people play with words and titles with double meanings totally tickle my fancy. The Descent - not only do the girls go down in the cave, but they also journey into madness. Two thumbs up. 

But it left me with one question ... can overweight people spelunk? Some of those cracks and crevices looked a bit small for my fat ass. 

Title: Haute Tension (High Tension)
Year: 2003
Synopsis: Two college friends, Marie and Alexa, encounter loads of trouble (and blood) while on vacation at Alexa's parents' country home when a mysterious killer invades their quiet getaway.

Tagline: Hearts will bleed.

It's impossible for me to avoid spoilers with this review. If you want to watch this movie and don't want me spoiling it, go do it now and then visit this post afterwards. I'll wait for you. 

You're back! (Or you never left) 

People all over the internet are raging about the twist ending for High Tension. They don't understand how it is feasible to have Marie be the killer. The thing is, people are over-thinking things. Once they see the twist, they start picking out all the inconsistencies, like the man using a severed head to give himself fellatio and the scene in the greenhouse. They ask questions like, who was she racing in the car chase? And, how did she get all cut up by the killer when fighting him?  To put it simply, they are remembering movies like Fight Club and Sixth Sense and comparing the two. By doing so, they are missing the point.

The point being ... Marie is batshit crazy. She has multiple personalities. And she's made up most of the movie, by superimposing her normal self into the scenes with the killer. Some parts probably didn't happen at all, while the rest have been severely altered. This isn't a follow the clues and figure it out before the twist happens kind of movie. It isn't a clever-we've-hidden-hints-throughout-for-you film. It's simply a horror movie with a twist ending that negates everything that happened.

And I liked it.

My only questions being, is it standard for people with multiple personalities to be aware of their other personalities? And was cute, pseudo lesbian Marie her true personality? And when did this killer personality manifest? Why? Did Alexa ever notice anything odd about her friend?

After watching it for a second time, I think it was good. All the other actors do indeed act weird around Marie, even when she is trying to 'help' them. Like Alexa being all freaked out in the truck and the mom asking 'why, why, why?'. If I had to choose a rating, seven out of ten. And I stand by it.

In Conclusion

Remember how I was trying to retrain my brain to be more positive? No? Well, that's embarrassing. I posted a vlog about it and everything. You're supposed to hang on my every word, people! Anyway, the whole idea was to do five tasks every day and by doing these things I'd get happier, and more optimistic and crap.

Well, the twenty-one days are up. The end result is not exactly what I expected.

Let me break this down for you.

While I do feel this challenge was worth my time and energy, my brain hasn't exactly been retrained. There are still clouds of negativity obscuring the sunshine from time-to-time. I never really considered myself a negative person, but it seems as though I am, indeed, a glass half-empty kind of girl.

I know where this pesky idiosyncrasy comes from, and I do try to kybosh it, but I have my bad days. On those days I can be a right Bitchy Betty, or a Sappy Sally, it all depends on how I roll out of bed. I tell myself the bad days exist in order for me to appreciate the good ones. And it isn't so much that I am pessimistic, but realistic, and I worry. I do. I'm a worrier. This is a hard trait to break.

In the end, I fear it will take a 365 day challenge for me to get over this deep-seated (and entirely annoying) characteristic. I am fully aware if I were a character in a book, this is the trait I would despise about myself. And yet, even now, as I write this, I am stressing about money and cigarettes. Don't ask. It will take far too long for me to explain.

The highlight of the 21 Day Challenge, and the five tasks, was, without a doubt, the exercise. Does that shock you? It's true. I felt like it was something I HAD to do, but I also WANTED to do it.

Back when I lived on the mainland, I used to workout every day at the gym. Breaking a sweat made me feel alive. Those endorphins are hard to ignore. They tease and taunt me. And being inactive, sedentary, is not fun. In fact, it sucks a lot. Everyday I didn't work out, I felt worse about not being active. A vicious cycle. One that's hard to break. Sometimes we need a push.

I decided to get up early in the mornings and sneak a walk in with the dog. To most, that doesn't sound like much exercise. A stroll around the neighbourhood with a hound padding softly at my heels. Ha ha ha. I wish. When I go for a walk, I run, climb and try to wrangle a eighty pound woofer who is stubborn as all hell. It's kind of a full body work out. The village I live in is riddled with these mountain trails and I love to get lost in them. By the end, I'm sweaty and there's usually a dull ache in my butt or thighs. Sometimes both.

This exercise isn't enough for me. I wish I could go hiking for six hours a day. But I have to work and all I have is the hour before work to do it in. This is something I am going to keep on doing. Being outdoors, in nature, using my body, makes me feel refreshed. And happy. Besides, what's an hour on the grand scale of things? It's a television program or a long soak in the tub. Exercise is more important than the latest Dexter or being clean. Maybe.

I would also recommend the writing challenges for everyone to do. Think of three things you are grateful for a day, write them down, along with a positive experience you have had. These truly did work for me. It opened my eyes to things I didn't really even realize I was seeing. It simplified my life. I was grateful for a lot of free, everyday events, people and objects. Things I see, touch, hear and smell every single day stood out to me. And stand out for me. Because even now, I see at last three things I am grateful for. Sunshine. Gumballs. And vintage thrift store finds.

It's funny because until I wrote these items down, I kind of took them for granted. Or didn't think about them. Now when I take a look around, I see things a bit differently. I imagine if I continued to do these two very simply tasks, I'd see the world completely different one day. That is an exciting idea.

Lastly, I suck at meditation.

I am actually thinking about giving up on this. In the last couple years, I have tried so hard to meditate. I've selected my mantra. Cleared my head. Closed my eyes. And...nothing. I focus on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. And...nothing. I am still there. Listening to the world around me. Maybe this whole meditation Zen thing simply isn't for me. I am guessing I simply haven't figured out MY way of getting there. I would like to say I am hopeful and it will come to me, but I have my doubts. Until then, I will just try not to fall asleep.

The truth is, I think, the outcome of these sort of challenges vary. Maybe some people only need 21 days to retrain their brain, but maybe some of us need longer. Because maybe we have more damage or issues to work through.

So, the challenge was interesting. Totally worthwhile, but I'm just not there yet. It could have been because a massive monkey wrench was thrown in the works at the beginning of this endeavour. Learning to forgive AND retraining my brain might have been a lofty goal. But I stuck with it, so there's that, and I think a little pat on the back is warranted. Still, there is work to be done. Lots and lots of work.

Hot & Sweaty On Our Walk

Cars & Girls

For some strange and inexplicable reason, I haven't announced the release of Cars & Girls here.

This raging romp of a read is highly important to me because I have a short in it. The novel was released by Pankhearst, an independent collective, and features four nearly novella length stories all centring around revenge and badass women.

Word on the street is it's all about femme noir. And is incredibly sexy and violent.

Because I also write a few things for the Pankhearst blog, located here, I sometimes forget my friends, followers and fans in this realm need to be kept in the loop. So, first thing first...

If you want to follow an awesome, and I do mean awesome, blog and get a butt load of fantastic information, sign up and follow the Pankhearst blog.

Second, if you are interested in buying Cars & Girls, you can find it on Amazon, or you can click this link. It's available in Kindle and paperback. Choose whichever pleases you.

And last, if you want to try to snag yourself a FREE copy of Cars & Girls, then you should invest your time and energy into the very first ever Thisisnotagiveaway Contest Pankhearst is holding over on their blog. It starts Sunday night at 12:01am. Basically, you write a crime/noir themed Haiku. Details can be seen here.

Oh, and if you want to hear my voice talk about this book, I am featured on For Books' Sake's podcast. CLICK HERE.

Here I am holding the new book:

The Most Amazing & Fluffy Vegan Rolls

A lot of you may know that I love to bake. More than anything, I enjoy creating perfect vegan food that people can't tell the difference when they eat. I often hear how 'vegan' breads and buns are often dense and not so tasty.

This isn't true.

Today I am sharing with you a most amazing recipe for dinner rolls, which can also be used to create the most mouth-watering, and soft, hamburger and hot dog buns. They are utter perfection, won't break the bank and are super easy  to make.

Here is the recipe:

1.5 Tablespoons active dry yeast (I use quick rise)
1 Cup plus 2 tablespoons hot tap water

1/3 Cup vegetable oil
2 Tablespoons sugar
1 egg replacer (mixed up, usually 1.5 teaspoons egg replacer to 2 tablespoons water)
1 teaspoon salt
3 Cups all-purpose flour (enough to make a soft dough)

Directions:

Combine yeast and hot water in a bowl. Add oil and sugar. Let rest for ten minutes. 

Add the egg replacer, salt and flour to form a soft dough.

On a floured surface, knead until smooth and elastic, 5-8 minutes. 

Do not let rise. 

If you are making dinner rolls, divide dough into 12 balls and place in a greased muffin tin. Muffin tins are great for creating perfect dinner rolls. That's a little baking trick I have for you! Cover with a towel and let rise in a warm place for 30 minutes. 

If you are making hamburgers, divide into 6 balls and pat down a bit, put on a greased cookie sheet, let rise for 30 minutes. Same with hot dog buns, just shape them into little logs. This will make six of those too.  

For all of these, bake in the oven  at 425 for 8-12 minutes, until they are golden brown. Remove from oven, brush the tops with margarine/butter (of the vegan variety) and let cool. 

Seriously, you won't be disappointed. 

Here are pictures of the ones I just baked! 

You're Not Going To Like This

Some of you may or may not know, I penned a fabulous story sort of novella thing for Pankhearst’s first publication Cars & Girls. I say fabulous because I am actually incredibly proud of what I’ve put on virtual paper. It’s raw and harsh, kick you in the gut, with a tormented leading lady and a shit ton of cuss words. The interesting part, as much as I like it, I tend to think you're not going to enjoy it at all.

Yeah, you, the one reading this. Okay, fine, maybe I should give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you love edgy, in your face stories about revenge with dirty sexy stuff and bloody gorrific twists too.

Still, here are the five reasons why you won’t like my story. OR, more so, five reasons why I think you're not going to like my story. Because, let's be honest, this is all in my head ... but we all have reservations about our work. Perhaps it's kind of brave of me to be able to put mine out there for you to read. Or perhaps not.

1 - The shit ton of cuss words. Alright, fine, you say you don’t mind a bitch here and an ass there. You think, if it benefits the story, then it will work for you. Then cool, I say, this might actually be a match made in heaven. work for you. And with labels such as tart noir, fem noir and pulp being tossed around like candy at Halloween, I only hope grandmothers aren't popping their false teeth in and lining up with their walkers to snatch this up as soon as it hits shelves. Then again, there are some rather edgy grandmothers in this world and, despite the stereotype, it’s not g-mas who are the uptight ones. If you’re a stuck up twenty-something year old who thinks masturbation is dirty or, dare I say, one of the PC Brigade of Yummy Mummys who fell in love with the virginal sparkly vampire who refused to drink human blood, well, this probably isn't going to end well. But I have a feeling you will be head-over-heels for 500. It’s really a very romantic story. (Cough-cough)

2 - There isn't a happy ending. And no, I'm not giving anything away, but there really, truly isn't a happy ending. If you’re reading this and thinking, she’s just saying that. I’m not. Personally, I think of it as a realistic ending and, if I am being honest, it leaves me with a comforting sort of feeling. Here’s the deal, this is the first thing I've ever put on virtual paper that doesn't end with sunshine coated strawberries and unicorns helping kittens across busy highways. Seriously. I am a fan of happy endings. Maybe that’s why I love Road Runner so much, because it’s different. For me. There are other people, like Nicholas Sparks who wouldn't be able to write a happy ending if someone held a gun to his head. No seriously. What the hell is wrong with that guy?

3 - On principle. It’s indie, which means, to some people, it’s unworthy. But I am a firm believer there are literary works of genius swimming around in the Indie pool. Little nuggets and gems waiting for someone to scoop them up and treasure them forever. I’m not saying this reflects my own work, no, my ego certainly isn't that big. Still, there are some people who will dislike it simply because there isn't a little Penguin stamped on the side. That said, the penguin is the cutest of all the publishing house logos.

4 - You were looking for an escape from the every day horribleness. There’s dirty stuff and angry stuff, harsh reality stuff and ‘ugh, gross’ stuff in Road Runner and you might want your stories sugar coated and tied up with pretty ribbon. A delightful package for you to undo at your leisure and enjoy every step of the way, riddled with brilliant insights and dazzling turns of events so sweet and lovely you have to cock your head to the side and say awwwww. Well, you might as well move along. In defence of Road Runner, it truly is woven together with lush sentences, so juicy and ripe they burst on your tongue with amazingness. Still, it won’t give you the hot chocolate and homemade cookies feeling you may be craving.

5 - Because you don’t like me. It happens. I get it. Maybe you don’t like my face. Or voice. Or hair. It’s up to you.

With all that being said, I sincerely hope I’m wrong and everyone loves it.

Do you ever have reservations about the things you create? Or is it just me? 

Restlessness

Every once in awhile I get this this nagging feel of uneasiness. Restlessness. Not being sure if I want to sit, stand, dance, walk, laugh, cry or sit like a blob and do nothing. Chances are, I'll do the later. Mostly because it's almost eleven at night and the town went to bed four hours ago. It isn't safe to go for a walk. A bear might eat me. Or a cougar. These aren't real fears. Just excuses.

These bouts of restlessness bring with it the ability to make me uncomfortable in my own skin. This happens once in awhile. I look in the mirror and am not too sure I'm pro the girl looking back at me. All I see are cons.

Don't get me wrong, I love myself, I'm relatively happy, life is fine, I'm okay and blah, blah, blah. Do not jump to any 'oh, she must be depressed' conclusions. Not everything is so dramatic. Actually, most things aren't.

Hormones. Can I blame them? It feels like a cop out.

Whenever these moods creep up on me, I end up disenchanted. With life, myself, writing, where I'm going to be in five years. The last year was a roller coaster ride, and not in the good way. The valleys out numbered the peaks about two to one. Some days, three to one. Then again, it's all perspective, isn't it? Through it all, I kept myself together. I reasoned. I kept a smile in place.

For the most part, I remain positive, looking to the bright side, being thankful, and walking around with the knowing smirk of a person who has most of it, if not it all, figured out. For the most part, see, that's the key. We cannot be positive, upbeat, happy, go-lucky, things are coming up roses people every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every...you get the point. It's just not humanly possible. Not without drugs, at least. And, frankly, it's annoying.

People are allowed to have bad days. Hell, people are allowed to have bad weeks. We are allowed to be in bad moods. Just don't let it take control and consume your whole being and smash apart your common sense or rationalization because...well, because that's bad. But it's almost as though, on my path to finding love and light and happiness, I forgot that there are downs. Oops.

In the end, the simple truth is, I feel sloth-like. And there is nothing wrong with a sloth. Actually, on any normal day, I'd embrace being sloth-like. I mean, those guys get to eat and sleep a lot, like up to twenty hours a day. Not to mention they only have three toes and are the slowest moving creatures on earth, so slow and sedentary algae actually grows on their fur. I mean, come on. How cool are these mammals.

Now I feel bad for comparing myself to these beings in a negative fashion.

The anxiousness is worse than thinking I look terrible or being agitated with everything I come in contact with. Sitting, bouncing my knee, and trying to think of a way to bring myself out of this state is most frustrating. Nothing really helps. Except, sleep. (See, sloth-like) And maybe cake. It's touch and go in these scenarios because I might end up feel like an even chubbier bunny after divulging in a cakey goodness with icing and some sort of jammy filling.

That said, I haven't had cake in like two months.

Oh, I think I just figured out what the problem is.

And here's a baby sloth, just because:

 

Settle In

For some odd and inexplicable reason, I absolutely love the phrase 'settle in'. Probably because I completely support the idea of taking time to ease yourself into a new surrounding, whether it is a living space, place of employment, coffee shop, school or anything else that involves new environments, you need to take your time. No sense rushing things. Besides, there is a very important allotment of time for you to learn your way around, like if there are stairs in your new home and you haven't had stairs in years. You have to take a few days to settle in so you don't tumble down the stairs one night on your way to the bathroom. No, I am not speaking from experience.

Moving along...

These days, I am settling into my new digs. Gaff. Home. House. Abode. Dwelling. Whatever you opt to call it, I'm adjusting. This is my period of adjustment. Meaning, I am getting used to things. And you know what, it isn't all that bad this new place I'm living.

I know a lot of you don't follow me on Instagram (I linked my account if you're interested in keeping tabs on me there). You really should, though, because I post amazing pictures everyday or my extravagant little life. If you want me to break it down, I mostly just post pictures of the dogs in my life and food I cook. Sometimes random lovely things as well. There was a stint where I posted a picture a day for a year, which I documented on my tumblr here, but Instagram allows me to post 5 pictures a day. And sure, I might be annoying, but I like documenting the things I love. It reminds me of what is important and keeps the unimportant things from the cobwebs of my overworked mind.

That said, I have been documenting my settling in on Instagram. See, I already posted a vlog  that showed the rather awesome insides of my new crib. It was titled New Home and mostly consisted of Oliver going up the stairs and the boys fighting on the bed. Totally worth a laugh. But what about the outside? What surrounds me in this new foreign place on Vancouver Island? Well, I am going to show you.

Here, in no particular order, is the happenings around town so far. I mean, there's a lot more than these ten pictures, but they will simply have to do for now. So, that's what I am doing, settling in. Once I complete this, I will regale you with my thoughts on love, life, writing and cake. You know, all the stuff I am known for rambling on and on about. Until then, enjoy the pictures and let me know what you think.

 Allen Lake

 Stone Inukshuk

 Random Bridge

 Graffiti Around Town

 Into The Mountains

 Random House Two Blocks Over

 Raging River

 Allen Lake Again

 Trees & Water

 Reflection

 Water Source

 Lots Of Biking Trails Around These Parts

 A Trail

A Dixon On A Trail

Top 12 Blogs Of 2012

Not other people's blogs, no. Why would I do that? It's just silliness to promote other people.

For those who can't hear, I am being sarcastic. As it goes, there are a lot of blogs I read that I absolutely adore and would love to recommend to you. But, it just so happens, this week's blog isn't about theirs. It's about mine. This last year, I wrote a plethora of blogs. As I went through my journey of finding out who I am and where I want to be, I pretty much detailed my evolution here. You poor people.

And now, for no other reason than to recap 2012, I give you the top 12 blogs I wrote.

Number 12:

I wrote a little blog post called All That Noise in the lush month of February. For some reason, it writing it was like a light bulb going off in my little brain. I began to see, all around me, the ways in which we are distracted. It allowed me to open up to some rather paranoid ideas about the government keeping us distracted in order to control us. While it sounds crazy written out like that, I believe there is some truth to it. And I've made a conscious effort to unplug and soak in the sounds of silence.

Number 11:

Sometimes, every once in awhile, people do guest posts on other people's blogs. I did one last year on Jane Alexander's blog. It was titled On Not Being The One. This small post really opened up a wound that was very raw to me. But sometimes writing or talking about our hurts can help heal them. That's what I hoped for. It's a hard day when you realize you aren't the person other people want you to be. And you have to let go because of it. This blog is important to me. Not because it is fancily written, but because it rings with a honest truth of a moment in time I hated experiencing.

Number 10:

Because I write, I feel words are important. Last March I wrote a little article that received a fair bit of hits, a few comments and was shared by a number of people. The title was Words Will Never Hurt Me which was actually kind of deceiving because it really does go on to detail how important and wounding words can be. I put this in the top twelve because growing up words did a lot of damage to me and I fear they still are doing damage to others.

Number 9:

My post titled Childlike Wonder would have been number one except I learned a lot of life-changing things last year. Why this one strikes a chord with me, even today all these months later, is because I love looking at the world with fresh eyes and being excited over it. It is a refreshing thing, to be able to look at your surroundings and loved ones each and every day with new interest and understanding. That's why I encourage us all to hang onto the wonder we possessed as children.

Number 8:

Last year, I took note of the universe on a grander scale. I've always loved the stars and moons and planets, but back in January, I looked up at the sky and my breath was stolen from me. I fell in love and have been looking up ever since. It is the enormity of the world we live in that brings me to my knees and I feel I have captured that in the post titled Ever-Expanding. It makes me feel small and insignificant and that is actually a good thing.

Number 7:

In a world where we are so driven by image and prettiness, I find it hard to exist sometimes. The pressure is immense to look good. But when you feel like crap. And treat your body like crap. It's hard to look like anything other than crap. Or at least that's how I feel. Back in July I was told I was 47% pretty. This sparked me to write a blog post called The Pretty Percentage and it touched on why I was perfectly fine with being 47% pretty and why prettiness simply doesn't matter.

Number 6:

This place is full of hurt. No, I am not talking about the living room or house I am sitting in. Actually, it's filled with love right now because I have this big dog sitting on my right and he's sleeping and lovely. What I meant is the world. The world hurts. It's cold and mean. Ruthless and violent. Except, that's just what we are shown. There are a lot of lovely things in it. I made it an effort to try to concentrate on those lovely things. In order to clear up a few things, I wrote a blog in December and thought it important to say it out loud. I Am Not Here To Hurt You.

Number 5:

For some strange reason, I wrote a few blogs on sexiness, indirectly. Well, one was straight up out there called Sexy, but it didn't make the cut. Not because it wasn't good, but because there was more important things to say. What did make the cut was a blog called For The Sake Of Sexy Times. Some people might be surprised this made it so far up the list. The reason is because, even though it is silly and funny and maybe a bit cute, it is important. Because we all need to learn how to love and accept ourselves and that's what I think the driving message behind this blog is. Besides, we all need a bit of comedic relief every now and again.

Number 4:

Once in awhile, I try to get all poetic and it comes out wrong. But by some sort of miracle  I think I hit the nail on the head in Where The Forest Meets The Sea. Not only does this post give you a glimpse at who I was as a little girl and who I am now, but it shows you what I want to be. The girl I am on my way to becoming  That's important to me. Mostly because I lost sight of her and was straying way far off my path. Now I have this post to come back to. I find it oddly beautiful. In a sighing way.

Number 3:

It's getting hard to narrow them down. I find myself rereading the posts. And I've put If Wishes Were Fishes at number three because, even though it is a huge gaping expose on who I am, that's just it. It's all about me. It's a detailed list of everything I wish for and was written at a moment when I truly felt lost. But after finishing it up, I felt clearer and lighter. That day, I struggled to write, so I sat down and just wrote "I Wish". Funny it turned out to me one of my favourite blogs of last year.

Number 2:

Last year, or maybe even the tail end of 2011, I realized that when you stand darkness all it takes is one person to hold a match and you can find your way. This is written out in more detail in April's post The Darkness. The darkness is of course representing depression, sadness, grief, and loneliness. I think everyone feels these things, but a lot of us are afraid to talk about it. This is another post where I get a bit more flowery and I really thought this was going to come in at number one, that's how much I learned from it. But no, it fell short at number two.

Number 1:

It was all about love, wasn't it? 2012. Learning about love. Opening myself up to it. Accepting it. Understanding it. Finally coming to terms with the fact that it is a necessity, no matter how much my cynical heart tried to argue. Growth and love, two very common themes out of all my posts last year. And, yes, I know I wrote a lot about it. Probably annoyed some people, but I think it is important. Besides, Love Is Good, which is exactly what the number one post is titled.

Well, there you have it. Now, I wonder what 2013 will bring in the ways of rambling and ridiculous posts by me. I guess there is only one way to find out. Jumping into it. Happy New Year, lovers, losers and long lost friends.

Help?!

Why do I have such a problem asking for help?

My knee-jerk reaction would be to say it is because I've been let down in the past. That I have asked for help and not received any. Or not received the right kind of help. Half-hearted help. Forced, I-don't-really-want-to-be-doing-this help. Help that comes with begging or the expectation that you have to do something in return.

This might be the case...you know, if I ever asked for help. If the words actually left my lips. But they haven't. I simply don't ask. Sometimes it is offered without me asking, which is ideal, but even then...it's just as hard for me to accept it. Asking and accepting. Two things I apparently don't do very well.

Except, this all runs deeper than the fear of being disappointed and knowing it's easier to just struggle through alone.

Some might blame this on a strange little thing called my independent womanhood. You see, I was raised to do things for myself. And it pays to take care of yourself. My fierce need to be independent is ingrained in me. It's hard to shake. Asking for help threatens that, doesn't it? No, of course it doesn't! Still, I'm determined to be self-sufficient. I don't need anyone to take care of me. Well, not right now...

But what happens when I need help for reals? When I do need to be taken care of? When I'm sick? In pain? Lost? Broken? Will I just suffer in silence? Or wait until someone offers, only to tell them to piss off, while secretly hoping they will insist further?

Last night, stretched out in bed, I realized it's more than my desire to be independent. I'm not all that worried about losing it. I've been playing this game alone for so long that it will always be my natural settling point. And, just between us, I want to be taken care of. I want to have someone else tend to my needs, to have a person to rely on. I don't necessarily want to be alone, a team of one, flying solo. It's easy for me offer up support and help, but to take it? That's where I balk. Screech to a halt. Grind to a stop. Get the cold sweats.

Weird, right?

I mean, if it isn't fear of disappointment or losing my independent womanhood, what could it possibly be?

Simply put, I don't want to be an inconvenience. The idea of someone having to stop what they are doing or take time out of their day to help me actually causes me physical discomfort. As strange as it may sound, I don't want to be a burden. I don't want them to be annoyed about it, like I'm ruining their plans. I don't want someone helping me when they really don't want to, when they have better things to do. Just the act of someone picking me up closes my throat and makes me want to burrow into a hole and hide myself with leaves and twigs.  Especially if it is dark, and rainy, and only one headlight works. All I can think about is how not worth the trouble I am.

I loathe causing other people angst, annoyance, strife, worry, sadness or a disruption.

Okay, at the end of the day, all three of these things contribute to my anxieties over asking for help. My independent womanhood, the fear of being disappointed and not wanting to be an inconvenienced all exacerbate my already ridiculous inability to vocalize my wants and needs. So, what can I do?
How the heck should I know? I write the posts, I don't solve my problems. Sometimes it's unawesome to be so self aware. I guess all I can do is work through it.

Here and now, I vow to ask for help today. Well, maybe not today, but tomorrow for sure. And if not tomorrow...Friday. For sure. And the next time someone offers help, I'm going to take it. Even if it is for something silly.

Lately, it's become very clear that I'm difficult...and human.