Should Have, But Didn't

It can be a struggle to let things go - from friendships to fights, writing ideas to unobtainable goals, and especially the choices we've made. When I find myself with a free moment for some radical thinking, I entertain thoughts of what life might have been like if I'd did things differently. I imagine the domino effect changing one facet of my life might lead to. What if I didn't move out of my family home when I was seventeen, if I went to school instead and ended my first serious relationship three years earlier. For the most part, this is harmless pondering, just a bundle of 'what-ifs' that have no real bearing on the happiness of right now. I know, in my heart of hearts, those choices brought me to this point, and for the most part 'this point' is quite good.

Sure, I have bad days where I am unsure of how I got here and feel unfulfilled and lost, but I'm positive these thoughts are essentially human and pretty common. From what I gather, we all feel unsure, afraid, and confused at times. It's life, after all, and it's pretty baffling. In a lot of ways, it's therapeutic to have these moments, so when you're back on track you can recognize progress and enjoy the forward motion. It's the 'should haves' that really get under my skin, though. It's one thing to ponder what life would be like if you'd made a different choice, it's another to constantly tell yourself you 'should (or should not) have' done something.

Should (or should not) have = regret.

And regrets are not welcome here. 

Don't get me wrong, I 'should have' myself from time-to-time, but I work hard to eradicate the words from my vernacular. I know I've made mistakes, but I can't change them. Regrets are such a waste of time and energy. The struggle is real, but I like to think I am making progress, which is why it's most frustrating when someone else comes along and 'shoulds' all over me. It makes me want to throw up a hand and say, "Stop."

Stop bringing up things I can't change. Stop reminding me of my mistakes. If you think I've forgotten, I haven't. My memory is a steel trap and nothing slips through, even when I say it has. Stop digging up the poor choices I've made. And stop harping about a past I cannot change. Last time I checked, Doc Brown's DeLorean didn't make it off the assembly line, so time travelling back in time to fix what I broke is off the table.

Yes, maybe I should have, but guess what? I didn't.

 

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.

Representing Hades

Because I am the world's most efficient of procrastinators (doesn't that sound like an oxymoron), I decided to take an online quiz called 'Which Greek God or Goddess Are You'. Blame Noelle, she's the one who posted the link when she knows I should be editing chapters and writing blogs - like I'm going to take responsibility for my lack of productivity.

Anyway, the results are in. Hades. I am representing Hades, God of the Underworld, and at first, I was like 'AWESOME'! Because that was my knee jerk reaction, but I think it actually comes down to the desire to have a three-headed dog named Cerberus, or Fluffy. (That's a little inside joke for all the Potter fans out there)

After pumping my fist in the air joyously, I actually read the little blurb under the picture of Hades and realized, strangely enough, the write up was fairly accurate. It talked of organization and being detail oriented, two of my most favourite things to be, and of being a romantic, which I am ... hopelessly. Last but not least, it touched on the desire to have a place to get away from the every day grind, needing a sanctuary to escape to when the world is too much to handle. Of course, I use the forest, but the Underworld might have a quaint cubbyhole for my liking.

Of course, my excitement may be a big ignorant, considering I don't actually know all that much about Hades. To be frank, everything I do know came from the Disney movie Hercules. That being said, he did kidnap Persephone while she was out picking flowers, which in turn caused Demeter, her mother, to curse the land into an epic famine. So, that's got to be a strike against him, even though Zeus promised her to him. And in his favour, he was given the Underworld while his brother Zeus was given the sky and Poseidon the sea, which doesn't exactly seem fair.

Now I am wondering if my initial thrill was premature. Oh well, off to watch Hercules.

The Weirdness On The Wind

A couple years ago, I thumbed through my diaries and picked out some of my favourite scribbles, which I typed out on the intersnacks. These rather short writings have been stored away in a super secret blog that no one has ever read. Except me, of course, which is a mighty relief, to be honest, considering how painful it is to even glance at these posts. No, seriously. Even my most favourite entries are so tedious they make me want to weep tears over how I massacred the English language. 

Anyhow, tonight I found myself going through these handful of writings. Why? That's not too clear. Maybe I wanted to revisit the tortured years of my youth, or maybe I wanted to do some serious mental cringing. If the grotesque grammar and preposterous punctuation weren't enough to cause me to recoil, then the subject matter would have done the trick. 

Every last entry was an ode to forlorn love, being wronged, not liking the girl I used to be, and how heartbreaking the world is. Needless to say, I haven't always been a bright ray of sunshine. Most of my youth was spent feeling lost, uncertain and angry - how I imagine a lot of people feel in their younger years. Still, not everyone wrote down their inner turmoil to read through and relive later on in life. Lucky them. 

If you think I'm going to be sharing any of these embarrassing excerpt with you, think again. No one of them is good enough to show to a blind and deaf mule, let alone a unprepared reader. Having clarified this, there was one line that caught my attention.  

I can hear the weirdness on the wind and my heart echoes the sound. 

Something about this line made me smile. Truth be told, it's very hard for me to look at anything I've written and think it holds any sort of merit. To find this line, especially in writings well over a decade old, is a miracle in and of itself. It simply struck me as a beautiful observation. 

Yes, I am weird, but so is the world. It's in the wind. And I hear it. If weirdness is all around us, inside all of us, then we are never alone in our strange ways. Of course, I can't even remember writing the damn thing, but I must have, because it's here in my super secret online diary, riddled with typos even grade schoolers wouldn't make.  

And yet, in all the messy words, choppy paragraphs and complete lack of white space, I found a golden sentence. 

There is something very comforting in thinking the common thread binding us together is our weirdness. How perfectly abnormal we are. It's a beautiful idea, isn't it? To think we are all colouring outside the lines together.   

Bloglovin?

Anyone heard about this? Is it worth being a part of?

I signed up in hopes of getting more foot traffic on my little blog and following other bloggers who are diligent about blogging. There are a lot of people on my follow list here that don't even post, not at all. Seems silly, right? But I discussed this back on my 800th blog post where I told the true story of how fleeting some people's blogging careers are.

Mine isn't fleeting. It's lush and, I imagine, will continue until my inevitable demise. But I noticed with the limitations of Facebook that my traffic has cut right in half here. I certainly hope this isn't because of my rebranding tactics. Eek!

Could you imagine? All that work and it's actually detrimental to the health of my blog.

Here I Am

Celebration Brownies! - My 800th Post

This is my 800th post! Can you believe it? Who knew I had so much to say? Certainly, not me. It can't all be worth reading, can it?

Looking back on this endeavour which started in 2006, I really wish I had some noteworthy material to showcase for this momentous occasion. The truth is, most bloggers don't make it this far. Do you know how many unattended and forgotten blogs are hanging out in cyberspace? A rough estimate is a gazillion.

The blogging world is a graveyard of good intentions from people who wanted to make a difference and thought they needed to be heard. Back in the late nineties, and into the early two thousands, everyone wanted a blog, and most of them went ahead and created something they thought witty, wry and wonderful. Only after posting a handful of times, they realized they didn't actually want a blog at all. It takes dedication to create and write and post, and it's frustrating when you craft these ingenious articles that get zero traction. Over time, between a week and month, all these wannabe bloggers gave up. They threw the towel in. Now their blog is just a passing conversational note at parties.

"Yeah, I started a blog once but it was stupid."

They didn't understand how hard it is to get readers, to feel connected, to be noticed, and that it's highly unlikely they will make an impact on the worldwide web. When they did come to terms with the fact there is a million other bloggerss out there saying it better, posting it quicker and being funnier, they stopped blogging. They let their punny titled blogs fall to the wayside, much like the diaries of their youth, and decided to just write their thoughts about Gladiator in a note on MySpace.

The irony of the whole situation is: the key to being a 'successful' blogger is to actually post something. Not one or two somethings. Hundreds of soemthings. Very few people create a blog and have a million followers the next day. You need to write, engage and be relevant.

At least this is what I assume. I wouldn't really know. I post regularly (every day as of late), but I don't seem to engage anyone other than my mother, which is actually fine by me. I never intended to take the information super highway by storm. In fact, this is just my diary you're reading. Crazy, right?

Well, that's my problem. I write about everything. And I do mean EVERYTHING. Any thought or half thought in my tiny brain gets written down here. If this was a specific blog, targeting a certain type of folk, whether that be readers, writers, bakers, vegans, movie lovers, music nerds, fashionistas, knitters, or people who are fascinated by the used underwear vending machines in Japan, then I'd probably have gone viral a long time ago. Sadly, I write about all of these things, except that last one. I really don't want to delve into the wacky and wild world of vending machines in Japan.

Anyhow, my 800th post! This calls for brownies. Of the vegan variety. These are super easy to make and turned out adorable. I made them bite size. All you need is one of those cute little mini muffin pans, which you can pick up at any store that sells baking gear. I got mine for free from my mom!

What can I say, I am winning at life.

If you want to use regular muffin tins, that would be cool. Or if you want to do old fashioned brownies because you are feeling nostalgic, then feel free to slap the batter into a square pan. That being said, I am only giving you baking time for the One-Bite Brownies I made.

One-Bite Vegan Brownies

Preheat oven to 350 (Does anyone know how to do the little degree symbol on a standard computer? Like this ° - so it would be 350° - I just copied and pasted that from somewhere else on the internet. But I would like to know if there is a short key on my laptop I can use.)

Ingredients: 

1/2 Cup - Margarine (non-dairy, of course. I used the vegan Becel this time) 

3/4 Cup - White Sugar

1 Tsp - Vanilla Extract 

1 Tsp - Baking Powder 

2 - Egg Substitutes (I actually used egg replacer this time, but flax eggs are what I used every other time I made these brownies. 2 Tbsp flax seed powder to 6 Tbsp of warm water - let it sit)

1/4 Tsp - Sea Salt (I used the chunkier stuff and it gave a really nice sweet salty taste to the brownies)

1/2 Cup - Cocoa Powder (unsweetened)

3/4 Cup - All Purpose Flour (I imagine you can make these gluten free, but mine were gluten filled)

1/4 Cup - Chocolate chips (you don't have to add these. I only did because the Sidekick is a chocolate fiend. You should actually put walnuts in. Or peanuts. Or something equally awesome, like peanut butter chips!)

1. Mix melted margarine, sugar, vanilla, and egg replacer (or flax eggs) together. 

2. Add baking powder, sea salt, cocoa powder. Mix until smooth. 

3. Add flour. Then fold in the chocolate chips, or whatever else you are optionally adding in. 

4. Spray mini muffin/tart pan with nonstick spray. Spoon the batter into the little pan. Make sure you only fill them about 3/4 of the way. They do expand. Not much, but it will make it easier to get them out. 

5. Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes. Don't over bake them. They will get dry. You don't want that. You want them, forgive the use of this word, moist. When in doubt take them out a minute early. If the top looks a bit crusty, they are done. 

6. Let them sit for a couple minutes to cool before removing them. (Don't worry, I never do either. Just spoon those suckers out and put them in the container you plan to store them.)

7. You will need to fill the pan twice as this will make 24 one-bite brownies. 

8. Indulge. 

Well, there we have it. My 800th post and a lovely brownie recipe, straight from my kitchen to yours. Oh, for the health conscious people out there. One of these brownies is 86 calories. Not too bad. Besides, we all need a little sweetness in our lives. 

And now for this super amazing photo of my itty, bitty brownies. Aren't they adorable? 

 

Facebook Friends

Facebook friends are a perplexing thing to me - both having them and being one. Because of the hodge-podge of thoughts in the swamp I call my head, I have taken a couple moments to put some semblance of order to what I want to say. I am starting at the end. A totally reasonable place to start, right? Yes, yes, as a writer I should understand the importance of a strong beginning, but if Memento can start at the end, why can't I?

Today I purged around two hundred 'friends' from my Facebook. I feel good about the decision. Kind of liberating, actually. A little bit godly, I must admit, deciding who stays and who goes. The truth is, it all began with a purpose. I intended to weed out those I never talk to and the ones I didn't know who the hell they even were. But as the unfriending got underway, I realized something interesting, and a wee bit odd. Facebook wasn't showing me all my friends. Some of you might think I was doing it wrong, but I wasn't. I totally understand the Facebook and all its functions. I clicked on 'all' my friends and it only showed me around half, if that. Right this very second, I have 350 'friends' on Facebook and I just counted how many it is showing me. Can you guess the number?

148

So, where the hell are the other 202? Good question. I have no flipping idea.

Personally, I think if it says 'all' friends, it should actually be ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS. Imagine if I said you could have all of the vanilla cake with fluffy lemon frosting only to give you a sliver of it? You'd be pissed off, and perfectly justified. I mean, I'd rage over not getting the whole cake. And I really can't come up with a good reason why Facebook doesn't let you see all your friends. I can only surmise it's the powers that be not wanting you to see all the people who aren't talking to you - all this ignoring and non-communication on their super awesome 'social networking' site! The horror!

I put the words social networking into single quotation marks because Facebook isn't a social networking site anymore, much like the Twitter. Whoa? You might be saying. What kind of baloney am I talking about? This can't possibly be true. After all, you saw the movie with Jessie Eisenberg in 2010 called The Social Network and it was clearly all about that dude who started the greatest ever of all social networking sites.

Yeah, except that was way back in the day when Facebook gifts were free, people still used the poking function, and you didn't have to use your number to sign up. Now you practically have to pay for anything awesome, it doesn't keep you connected and it pretty much wants your first born, if it doesn't already have him/her.

There are two very different reasons why the Twitter and the Facebook aren't social networking sites anymore. The Twitter is now a place where  the posts people make are mostly pre-programmed updates, the majority of which are selling something. Very few people actually log into Twitter anymore. For the most part, they link all their social media from one hub, like HootSuite, and don't even interact with any of their followers. Did you catch that? If there is no interacting, then there is no socializing, which means there is no networking. I get people following me all the time, only to unfollow me a day later when I don't return the favour. This isn't to say I wouldn't follow them, I'm just not given the opportunity, and also, they aren't talking to me! These people don't comment on my tweets or posts. Not even a hello, for crying out loud. I tried and tried with Twitter, but it is hopeless. Now I just auto post my blogs from my fan page on FB, because if you can't beat them ... you get the point.

Now, Facebook is another monster altogether, but the end result is the same - no interaction. Back in December, Facebook decided they were changing the way pages worked. Basically, any post you put out into the world would only reach about 10% of your followers. This was all done for a money grab. They implemented this whole 'boost your post' option, which basically means you can pay Facebook a bundle of money to reach the people who voluntarily followed you in the first place. Seems weird, right? Well, it is, and shady too.

Massive companies like Coca-Cola and McDonalds won't suffer because of this. They have millions of followers, so even reaching 10% is pretty damn good, and they also have a surplus of money to boost their posts. You know those really annoying advertisements in your feed that you hide because you hate seeing them? Those are people who have paid Facebook so much money that they are boosting their posts to people who don't even like the freakin' company. Ridiculous, right?

In the end, it's the little guys who suffer. In the beginning, I used to get comments and likes on my fan page posts, it used to reach hundreds of my followers, now I am lucky if twenty people see it, no one shares them anymore, and life is a little bit lonely over there. And it's fine. I mean, Facebook is a free site and I am using it as such. I'm just a little old blogger doing this in my spare time. Where it really gets tragic is small businesses. Companies and people who relied on Facebook to reach out to their fans/viewers/readers for a minimal profit. Those people are getting shot in the face by Facebook's greed, and that frustrates me.

What's even more annoying is the changes implemented to fan pages back in December are also being enforced on your personal pages. Don't act surprised. You've already noticed it. People you used to talk to all the time aren't showing up in your feed. No one is liking or commenting on your statuses. The readers on your blog have dropped drastically. The only time anyone connects with you is when it's your birthday, because Facebook reminds everyone you still exist.

In the past couple months, I've seen a plethora of updates from friends asking if people can see their posts, or complaining about the lack of support lately on Facebook. Do you really think all those lovely people who used to take the precious second to like your statuses don't like you anymore? No, they do. They just don't see you in their feed! Like they aren't appearing in yours! So, how do we get over these staggering limitations?

For a while now, I've figured the more you interact with people, the more you will see from them in your feed. This is true, for sure. But when you have over a hundred friends, it's near impossible to interact with them all daily. Heck, ten is tough for me. The really important ones get starred, like my sister and brother, Scraps, Rebs, Noelle, my mom and dad) so I always know what they are up to. But I can't star all the ones I love, then my notifications would be out of control. There has to be an easier, less cluttered way, right?

Ages ago, I started changing my news feed to 'most recent' stories, instead of 'top stories'. (Yeah, it's totally aggravating that Facebook takes it upon itself to switch my feed back to 'top stories' all the time, too. Don't even get me started on 'top stories' either. How the hell do they choose what is a top story? Most of the time it's something with three likes and one comment. Let me tell you, that algorithm is off.) Anyhow, I find 'most recent' stories has helped a bit with staying connected to all the beautiful gals and guys I used to romp around with on the internet.

Back to the point, I shouldn't have to star people or interact with all my favourites daily, or keep putting my news feed to 'most recent' stories. Facebook should show me the posts my friends make. All my friends. Because if I didn't want to see them, then I would remove them from my feed, or Facebook altogether. And if you just so happen to be one of those people who don't use Facebook all that much, you're out of luck. No one will see you. You won't see many other people. It's like a needy girlfriend. Facebook needs constant reassurance and love in order for it to perform adequately. Notice how I didn't say 'well' or 'good'. Because with the recent changes, I doubt Facebook will ever be good again. Harsh, right? Well, that's how I feel.

None of this has much to do with why I removed 200 of my friends, though. Not really. A small fraction of it stems from not being able to interact with a lot of them and how there isn't much social networking going on over there anymore. But most of it all comes down to friendship. The people I culled today weren't my friends. Heck, most of them weren't even acquaintances. They have never commented or liked anything I have ever posted. So, why should they be there? I'm not seeing their updates. They aren't seeing mine.

So, I brought out my axe and hacked and slashed. Now I am comfortable with the people on my list. People I've had interactions with. I recognize their faces (or avatars, because some of them never even show their faces). We've chatted, laughed, exchanged witticisms, or maybe even road tripped somewhere together. Left behind are people I like, or would like to know better. By ousting a few shadows, I am hoping to reconnect with a few people who have gotten overlooked in the madness.

Now my spring cleaning is done. Or at least I think it is, I have 202 friends I can't see.

Into The Swing Of Things

One of the most gruelling aspects of writing is getting back into the swing of writing a story after having put it down for an extended period of time. Currently, I am writing the third instalment in an urban science fiction novel with a writing friend and I've been procrastinating writing my chapter because my interest has waned.

Don't get me wrong, the book is amazing. But the rapid fire way in which we used to write has fallen to the wayside. Sometimes we are waiting weeks for the other to finish a chapter. This is when it gets hard. It staunches the creative flow and our excitement dwindles. I have, literally, been sitting on my chapter for a month. In my defence, my co-writer did go to Disney World. How fair is that?

Not fair at all. I mean, I really want to see Harry Potter World.

Still, I dropped the ball. I have been looking at the email in my inbox and feeling guilty. It's all on me this time. Disney World be damned.

The funny part about this whole fiasco is how fast the first two books in the series were done. We are talking a matter of weeks and they were finished. Why is this one like pulling teeth, or whatever other cliche you feel like using? I don't know if it's because this is the final book in the series, or our lives are falling apart, or I'm just not on the computer as much, but it's been so hard writing this book.

Even harder getting back into writing it after putting it aside for awhile. Even rereading it doesn't always help. So, I force myself to write. And it is painful. To read. To execute. To write. Sometimes I wonder if it's so tedious because it isn't right. Like, maybe the direction we are going is all wrong. I certainly hope not.

All I can tell you is that I am pushing forward until I am back in the swing of things and things are swinging freely.

Clearly I am tired and I should be going to bed. And meditate, of course.

Worry Wart

It's easy to say, don't worry about that, you can't change it anyway. But it's harder to execute such common sense thinking. After all, if we had the ability simply to turn it off and shut it own, wouldn't we all opt to do that? For the most part, we worry. Whether it's about money, our homes, jobs, children or partners, we are worrying. Is this going to work out? How are we going to get through this? Will prostitution be involved?

These are the thoughts going through our heads on a daily basis. Well, maybe not the prostitution one. We don't want to become a walking advertisement for STIs. It's still hard for me to adapt from calling them diseases to infections. 

That being said, I have a really difficult time spelling diseases without the help of the intersnacks. 

Now, back to worrying. 

While I certainly was kept awake last night due to financial concerns, this isn't a regular occurrence. Granted, money is pretty much the biggest worry in my life, but I am hoping that comes to the end when I sell my condo. I blame this all on my Realtor. She just told me that it is the 'slowest spring she's ever seen'. Like, how encouraging, right? So, if you know anyone looking to purchase some real estate in the suburbs of Greater Vancouver. Please, let me know. 

If you don't, I seriously appreciate your cares and concerns, but this will pass. It always does. Things will, eventually, work out. I just can't be sure when and I am worried about where I will end up if I have to shell out both mortgage and rent money. It's a realistic worry. A matter of fact one. And one so many people face on a daily basis. My troubles aren't unique to me. 

As for the lack of sleep, don't worry your pretty heads about it. I was, literally, an insomniac for five years, sleeping no more than 3-5 hours a night, and that all worked out okay in the end. I wrote some amazing novels. I use the term amazing loosely. Besides, even when I am not worrying about dollar dollar bills y'all, I'm kept up by grand ideas for books I will never get to write. So, not much sleep either way. 

Onward and upward, positive vibes and good thoughts.  

And please stop dreaming about me so I can sleep. 

Damn You Google

I, like so many other people, enjoy how Google makes life easier. Anything I want to learn about is at the tips of my fingers. Still, there is room for improvement. Like having more than one account.

Ages ago, I started this blog with a little known yahoo account. It has always been under that Yahoo account, but as time passed, and I accquired more accounts, like Google + and twitter and Facebook and Instagram and ... well, you get the picture, the more difficult it came to keep things in order. So, then I started the tedious task of merging everything under the same email account.

Now, since you have to have a Google + account with your gmail address, I figured I'd just keep that around. And since blospot is a Google application, I thought I would just be able to merge my blogger with my Google + account, because that would make my like 160 times better. Instead, when I went to go add my gmail address, it told me that that address was already associated with Google +. Yeah, I know, but can't I add my blog onto there?

Long story short, no. You can't.

Which sucks.

Yes, I could add another author onto my blog with my gmail account and then delete the original creator of the blog, but then all the blogs I follow don't transfer and neither do the comments I've left and my join date.

Call me fickle, but these things really do bother me.

It also bothers me that Google just won't allow me to merge the two accounts. I mean, come on! What's a girl to do?

I suppose I should just be grateful that I even have the ability to blog and type and tap dance in the rain, and I am. Don't get me wrong. I am super appreciative of all I have. But Google is this massive conglomerate all digitally advance, but they can't let me do this one silly thing that completely annoys my OCD brain. I want to have one account, I don't have to flip back and forth between them. Can't they just make my life easier and say, "Yes, you can merge your accounts. Ta dah!"

Yes, you can export and import a blog, but it doesn't save all your settings, nor your Blogger profile. It's almost like you're supposed to have previous knowledge of all this junk before you create  any account on the interweb. I guess I could delete my Google + account and start anew, but that seems like so much work and I am also lazy, as well as fickle.

Geez, my middle class problems are such a pain in the year. Though, I don't technically think I qualify as middle class. I made too little money last year to consider myself that!

Snark ended.

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.

Winter Is Coming

Actually, it's here, as of December 21st.

It isn't in full force, though.

Weather is at a record low here on the West Coast. People freak out about this. Like it is so unnatural. But the thing is, it's only new in the last fifty years. This is the West Coast, it isn't supposed to have extreme weather conditions. It's supposed to be mild. Sure, that's sad news for snowboarders and skiers, and all the people who are going to be laid off if Mount Washington closes next week. Unfortunately, there are no chains on Mother Nature.

She's like any woman. She does what she wants. When she wants. How she wants.

We get used to how things are, expect them to be that way forever, but change happens. There are cycles that need to be taken into consideration. And temperatures have been this low before. Just because we bank on the arrival of snow doesn't actually mean it will be arriving.

That doesn't mean it isn't frosty out there. In fact, the frost is most pretty, especially early in the morning.

It's the frost that I am grateful this morning. Because it is beautiful. It is so intricate and complex. Have you ever looked at it? Talk about unique as a snowflake. And to think, snowmen are made entirely of this stuff.

Yesterday, I took a couple pictures of the frost. They might not capture the truly remarkableness of the cold weather or how amazing this form of nature is, but I want to post them because they are a reminder of how many breathtaking things exist in this world.

Upon review, I can see how some people might have thought this was going to be a Game of Thrones post. I apologize that it isn't and will try to refrain from tricking you in the future.

A New Beginning

There is nothing more invigorating than a blank page. A fresh start. This new beginning.

And I'm not just talking about starting a new book, even though that really is one of the best feelings in the world. Until you reach about ten thousand words and realize you have no idea where the thing is heading.

It's a new year. People will be making resolutions. Trust me, my Facebook feed is already overwhelmed with how many people will be changing this year.

I will no longer be calling this resolutions. Let's just say what they really are. Tasks. Jobs. Chores. Because people don't like doing them. In fact, if I may be so bold, it seems people hate doing them.

It's always the same three things, too. Eat healthier, quit smoking and exercise. These are the most important changes people can think of at this time of year. While it is all fine and dandy that you want to be the best you that you can be, I think things need to start on the inside. With the heart. No, I am not talking about cholesterol. I am talking about love.

Just be nicer. Sweeter. Kinder. Lovelier.

And maybe patienter. (I totally didn't think that was a word!)

I guarantee if you drop the negativity and woe is me attitude, if you leave behind the regrets, what-ifs, and blame placing, you will notice a difference in all facets of your life. Inside and outside. And it will make the world a better place. Just put the drink down and do a good deed, big or small, it doesn't matter. Goodness begets goodness.

I'm not saying your non-smoking, skinnier self won't make Earth more enjoyable, and perhaps lengthen your life, I'm just saying you should mind your manners and stop moaning about how horrible your life is, especially on Facebook. I get tired of hiding your whiny status updates.

Really, in the grand scheme of things, how bland your meal at the Swiss Chalet was means very little to me. To put it bluntly, it registers a big fat zero on the what's note worthy scale. And we also don't need weather updates. One, a lot of us probably don't live near you and, if we do, we know what the weather is already like. Complaining about it won't change it. Last time I checked, Mother Nature wasn't on your Facebook. And if she was, she'd just laugh at you.

Oh, and you don't need fireworks and a noise maker to make this happen.

Every day is a blank page. A fresh start. The new beginning you've been so desperately craving.

Now, onto more important things. Remember how, two posts ago, I said I was entertaining the idea of taking note of one thing I am grateful for each and every day of this year. Well, it's a green light on that one. So, let's kick this thing off in true Tyson fashion with my dog. Oliver.

Yeah, that's right. I am grateful for this guy:

He's a jerk some of the time, but for the most part he's a lovely little guy with a face I just can't get over. My Instagram is riddled with pictures of him. He makes my life a lot happier. And every time I wake up next to him, the day starts on the right foot.

So there, day one, done. 364 more to go.

This may have been a mistake.

6734

One might think to themselves, what a strange blog title. A number. Six thousand seven hundred and thirty-four. 

What could this possibly mean? asks my adorning fan. 

Is this a code? Does it need to be broken? Surely there must be some deep meaning within this number to unlock the untold wonders of the world and deliver unto the masses the truth of life and why we are all here. 

Alas, it isn't so grand. This number will not change your life. It won't make you richer, prettier or more intelligent. No one will write a book or movie about this number. Actually, with all this hype, it's kind of boring what this number is. Unfortunately, I've already come this far, so I kind of have to continue. 

This is the number of reads I've had on my most popular post on this here blog. 

Crazy, right? 

And you won't even guess what the subject matter is of my most popular posting either. 

The Exorcist. 

No, really. I'm not pulling your leg or making a joke. It truly is. 

This strikes me as hilarious. I mean, I have poured my heart and soul into some of the articles here. I've talked about love, my insecurities, detailed my journey through the jungle of life, and still, the most popular post on my blog is about exorcisms.  

This is a lesson learned, my fair writers, bloggers and creative creatures. If all you want is hits and numbers and stats, just post about the Exorcist. The mob will come flocking. Still, I find myself sitting up at night pondering this fascinating factoid. What is it about The Exorcist that people feel compelled to Google fifty times a day? 

Let's break this down and get all up in the numbers and stuff. I posted E Is For Exorcism  on October 6th. It is now April 15. This is about six months. If we do the math, which I've always hated doing, this breaks down to around 1122 hits a month. Given there is about thirty days in a month, this works out to being 37 hits a day. All for exorcisms and the wonderment of demons invading bodies!  

It leads me to believe there are a lot more possessions taking place on a daily basis than any of us could ever imagine. This is both frightening and fabulous. See, it's terrifying because none of us want to see anyone's head spin around or have them impale their naughty bits on a cross, a la Regan in The Exorcist  The sheer thought of a demon sneaking into your body and holding court is more than a little unnerving. But isn't it fabulous to know you live in a world where these are the things people are concerning themselves with. 

Even more interesting, a lot of these hits are coming from Singapore and the Philippines. Which only confirms that I most likely won't be planning a vacation to these destinations any time soon. Well, not without a bucket of holy water and a silver cross. 

Okay, so I just took the time to do the actual math. It's been 192 days since I hit the publish button for this, which works out to 35 hits a day. Of course, for all I know there was a group possession on a holiday weekend and three thousand of the original six thousand seven hundred and thirty-four were accumulated then. It worries me that people were in search of help to expel the demon from their loved ones and instead of finding do-it-yourself step-by-step possession instructions they found my cheeky blog instead.

This informative post has been brought to you by my over-thinking and general absurdness. 

A Little Yoga Never Hurt Anyone