Welcome To The 70's

As some of you may know, I'm moving ... again. It's a source of contention. Not because I hate moving but ... no, wait. I hate moving. That's exactly why. Also because I thought my next move would be into my forever home. Sadly, not the case.

While I can focus on the negative, let me state the ten things I am happy about with this move.

1. Screens on the windows means no more mosquito bites in the middle of the night.
2. No more ants, hopefully. Our current dwelling has had an ant problem since we moved in. They are walking across the telephone line. In hoards. No sugar in the cupboards. Nothing sweet left open. Those things are resilient and determined. The new place doesn't seem to have an infestation. So, fingers crossed.
3. Goodbye oven. And by oven, I mean bedroom. The addition the landlords built on our current place is so tiny, with three windows and it gets sunshine all day long. It's beyond stifling up there in the summer. Truthfully, we haven't turned the heat on upstairs since we moved in over a year and a half ago, not even in the winter. All the windows are open right now, which means mosquitoes getting in, because there are no screens on the window. Maybe I should mention number one again. 
4. More room. While the place I am currently inhabiting is kind of adorable, it's also small and missing such things as a linen closet, a place to put our coats, and enough space to fit all my clothing. The new home has an abundance of space, including a spare room, where you will be staying if you ever come and visit. 
5. No more killer stairs. So, I guess the people who put the staircase in the old place didn't give a crap it was on such a severe angle that it was actually considered dangerous. Oliver, that amazing dog we all know and love couldn't go down it because he'd tumble down them. I honestly thought he was going to break his neck one day. Instead of risking his life, we decided to carry him up and down the lethal stairs. Oh, and he's not light. Despite his low-rider status, the little man is packing some serious pounds. 
6. Things you take for granted, a bedroom door. There's this cat who lives with us named Bruce. Yes, he's cute. Yes, he's lovely. Yes, he also like to pull your hair by the root when he wants you to wake up and feed him. For a year and a half, we've been living without a bedroom door, which means we haven't been able to kick him out and sleep peacefully past sunrise for the same amount of time. Also, he brought a bat home once and dropped it on our heads when we were in bed. That won't be happening again because we proudly have a bedroom door now. 
7. There's a dishwasher. While we won't use it all the time, it's a nice option to have it for when company comes over. Not that company ever comes over, but they might. Especially now that we have a spare room.
8. Beach access. The tiny community I am moving into is actually walking distance to the beach. I am talking ocean beach. Not lakey beach. Salt water from the sea beach! If that's not something to get excited about, I don't know what is. 
9. New places to go adventuring. Exploring is my middle name. Not really. But I love seeing and experiencing new adventures. I am over the moon about exploring a new area. Who knows what treasures I will find? 
10. The seventies decor. This place was born in the late seventies, I'm almost sure of it. The wall paper, the wood panelling, the terrible carpet in the closet. And you know what, it's amazing and awesome. To prove the amazingness, I've taken a few photos. Well, the Sidekick has. He sent them to me via his smartphone. 

Here are some pictures to prove it's authentically seventies. 

Check out that French peekaboo window. 

Look at the wallpaper! Classic. 

Wood panelling for every room.

An elusive picture of the Sidekick, and our gaudy mirror and red counter.

The Thing About Jerks

Dear Person Who Cares,

I know the simple act of existing can be a daunting task considering the overabundance of negative people here. Take it from me, I understand. All you want is to live in a beautiful world where everyone gets along, singing harmoniously, holding hands and doing a lot of skipping through wild valleys of flowers. Sadly, this isn't realistic. There are people in this world who want to hamper skipping and hand holding, and when it comes to singing harmoniously, they want to eradicate it altogether. I call these people 'jerks'.

Jerks are people, men and women, who simply want to ruin everyone's fun. They believe the world revolves around them and they are unimpressed by it. Not only are they negative, but they are ready and willing to share that negativity with anyone who comes within spitting distance of them, which is approximately four feet. These Defeating Dannys and Dollys put a damper on everything, whether it is work or play. Movies, music, theater, television, books, cooking, baked goods, they can find a way to tear it down and rip it to shreds. Even gloriously sunny days can and will irk a jerk.

Does this seem harsh? Well, maybe it stings because you know a couple jerks who are making your living experience a little less awesome. Maybe you genuinely like them as people, or maybe you don't want them to win. If they win and you stop caring about them, or wanting to be around them, then you feel like a bad person, as if you are being a jerk yourself. Don't worry. You can cut a jerk out of your life and remain a caring person. The purging of toxins is essential to living a healthy, happy life and, it just so happens, sometimes those toxins happen to be walking, talking balls of antagonistic pessimism in human form.

And the thing about jerks? They aren't going to change for you, just like they aren't going to change for me. They aren't going to suddenly see the error of their ways, not even if you detail all the reasons why people can't stand being around them. You've been there, you've chatted with people who don't have anything good to say about anything. They hate that band, loathe your favourite television program, and despise Emma Stone, and there is no reason for any of it. Because what good reason could someone have for disliking Emma Stone.

There isn't one!

Still, the jerks come out to play. They are going to put down you and your likes and the fluffy white clouds in the summer sky. If you did a good job at work, a jerk won't be impressed, they will point out how you could have done better. Don't worry, it isn't just you. Jerks just don't like good work. If you joined a gym and lost ten pounds, a jerk doesn't care. In fact, they will predict you gain the weight back by the time the holiday seasons roll around. Fell in love with a beautiful girl? A jerk will point out this new crush won't last.

Jerks hate love almost as much as they hate kittens.

So, person who cares, don't waste your breath. Put your shield up and deflect the jerky words of the insensitive oaf attempting to put a black cloud over your day. You can't control them, you can't change them, so it's best to avoid. Unless you feel comfortable mocking. Mocking is highly encouraged and can often be therapeutic.

Sincerely,

Tee

Mother Wisdom

Life can be frustrating. I think we can all agree on that fact. 

Today, the property management company that plays God to the home we live swung by for an inspection only to tell us the owners are planning to sell. Furthermore, the landlords think too much hydro is being used so they don't want to pay anymore. Fine, I guess, except we are already overpaying for the place. Trust me when I say this. We are totally overpaying. 

So, it's a bit on the annoying side. 

That being said, I am also looking into selling the condo I purchased several years ago on the mainland. Which isn't easy either, not for my heart or head. Basically, it's going to be an uncomfortable and worrisome next couple of months. I am a worrier, and I don't like upsetting people, especially myself. But I know what's coming down the pipe. Money. Interactions. Bank meetings. Real estate conversations. Mass panic. All that fun stuff. 

My blood pressure is getting the best of me. And I know I need to calm down. I have to clear the thoughts. In with the positive energy. Out with the negative. 

Except, I am really terrible at that. Or, to put a more positive spin on it, I am excellent at sucking at being positive. 

Then I called my mom. It's the fail safe thing to do.

She offered up what she called 'mother wisdom'. 

Project what you want, she said. Put it out into the world, she said. And believe it will happen. 

It's the last part that's hard for me. Still, I believe in 'mother wisdom'. And she's telling me what I already hold true in my heart. So, I choose to believe this will all work out for me. That everything will fall into place for everyone involved. There will be happiness. And this time next year I will be laughing over what a worry wart I used to be. 

That's what I am doing now. Putting it out into the world. Following Mother Wisdom's advice. All I want is a small house with some trees around it. A fixer upper would be great. A yard for some gardening. Some place where I can have my pets and just sink my feet into the forest floor. 

Pass the word along. 

I also drew a picture of it and put it on the fridge to remind myself everyday what it is I am striving for. 

And thank goodness for Mother Wisdom. 

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

Retrain Your Brain