At the tender young age of 36, I find myself having to learn infinite new things because of the ways in which I’ve changed myself over the last two years, after a lifetime spent insecure, unhealthy, and fat.
One of those things I’m gonna have to learn now? Flirting. Truth be told, I’m a pretty terrible flirt as a result being fat and completely lacking in pride for my last couple decades.
I’ve faked it really well over the years, thanks to the marvel of online dating. Continue reading
Category Archives: Dimestore Philosophy
6 Decembre 1989: Remembering a Formative Tragedy
I was 16 on December 6th, 1989, when gunman Marc Lepine stormed into Montreal’s Ecole Polytechnique, an engineering school.
When the blood had spilled and screams for the 14 dead women faded into muffled tears, it was found that the gunman had left a note explaining his actions — he’d wanted to kill feminists for making his life so much harder, thanks to quotas and changes in hiring practices.
I don’t remember where I was when I’d heard about the killings, but I remember slowly growing aware of what happened and why. I remember the confusion I’d felt as as a 16-year-old and the anger and fear this massacre opened in me.
In 1989, things were pretty “advanced” for women already. We had the old soul sisters Annie Lennox and Aretha Franklin belting out that “sisters are doin’ it for themselves,” and movies like Baby Boom were showing that women no longer felt they had to have a man in order to make a “family” work.
I knew I could do anything I wanted to — that being a female really didn’t mean much anymore. Or did it?
Then, all my naivete changed. Continue reading
"YOU'RE APPROVED!" Now, Sign Your Life Away.
I went to the bank Saturday. I told them to give me money. I fucked up my last loan, and my loans officer fucked it up even worse. It was a partial-debt-consolidation loan where the banker didn’t make my overdraft go poof. No sense consolidating debt if you’re continuing to live in your overdraft. Pity this occurred to me too late.
It was badly executed from the get-go.* I was medicated out of my mind for my back injury at the time, I didn’t talk enough with my brilliant friends, I didn’t have a good enough plan, and I didn’t even feel entitled to borrow money from an institution — as if them giving me money was some humanitarian act instead of their BUSINESS.
I’ve been literally paying for my mistakes every day since, and instead of resigning myself to the hell of trying to dig out from under an avalanche of STUPID, I’m finally trying to right those wrongs in a here-and-now way that lets me finally move past the hardest period of my life.
Tomorrow, I find out. Continue reading
Choosing Success
I’m having one of those honest-with-myself days. They’re never very much fun, are they?
I’ve been getting increasingly stressed out about several areas of my life, just because it’s coming down to the crunch and probably also because I’m incredibly skilled at making things more difficult than they need to be.
As a result, I’ve had sort of the perfect emotional storm that every recovering fatty wants to avoid. I know, all too well, that I’m an Emotional Eater. I nearly got to 300 pounds because I can be a very emotional girl, apparently. Continue reading
Why Do I Blog? Some Thoughts.
After editing this, it occurs to me it should be two separate posts, both developed more fully, but that’s a lot of work. I’ll try to expand a bit on the “social” aspect, or even the socio-political aspects I allude to, in another posting, and I’ll post this here & now as-is. That way, you get something to snack on, I have less guilt about underproducing, and we both have a happy Friday. 😉
I’m thinking a lot about blogging today, because I’ve been asked to talk to a couple small groups of keeners tomorrow and talk about why I blog, what my process is. I’ve got some thoughts on that, but, I guess I’m ultimately a little unsure what “blogging” has to do with it.
Me, it’s just writing for an audience I have access to. It’s just writing.
We’re lucky these days. We live in an era where having a thought, having a voice, it means something. The world is literally at our fingers.
A thought doesn’t have to die alone in the dark ever again. Continue reading
Getting Philosophical as a Birthday Looms
Not too long ago, I learned of the Buddhist exercise that is tantamount to writing your eulogy for the life you hope you will have led.
I hadn’t given the idea that much thought until the recent days.
See, the thing about legacies is, they don’t just happen. They take years — often, decades — to carve out. Who we are, who we were, isn’t just some momentary snapshot — it’s a grainy 8mm movie that never stops playing.
Every day we have opportunity to contribute more to our lives. Every day is another stroke on the canvas of our legacy, another swath of colour or texture that contributes to the work of art that is our life. Continue reading
Losing Pounds? Losing Wounds.
I wonder, sometimes, how life knows to get the timing just right, so that, if you’re paying attention, you can use the synchronicity to really gain some wisdom.
Luckily, I tend to pay attention.
Tuesday has been “headtrip day” for two weeks now. Yesterday was jam-packed — a night of chatting with one of my best friends immediately after another trip to the headshrink, and then this morning I got to watch last night’s The Biggest Loser.
And I’m not sure where to start, so let’s do the Tarantino end-middle-beginning-takes-you-to-a-new-ending thing, shall we? Continue reading
Filler
We use words like “empty” and “full” to judge qualities of life —
“Oh, he’s amazing, he leads such a full life!”
“Wow. I feel so sorry for her when she leaves to go home, she looks so sad, like her night and life are so empty.”
…But how much of those “full” lives is filler? And how much is just arbitrary because of choices made earlier? Who or what is the standard for measuring weightiness or completeness of existence?
What’s St. Peter gonna say at the gate? “Oh, sorry, another 3.7 activities per annum and you might’ve led a “full” life, but, no, you don’t squeak through, even. I’m afraid we’re filing you under “adequate” life. Better luck next tim– Oh, ha, yeah. That’s our little joke here. Too bad you weren’t Buddhist, eh?” Continue reading
Burn(t) Out
I’m trying to psyche myself up. A new Post-It Note adorns my television-front with two messages, officially the only mantra-y thingies on my walls right now.
“Motion is lotion” and “Pain is weakness leaving the body.” Maybe now I’ll forget the love affair I’ve recently ignited with my sofa.
It’s the season premiere of The Biggest Loser tonight, and it’s proving to be a bit of an emotional experience. A seriously emotional one, really.
This comes after a rather wound-picking-ish therapy session after work. [insert heavy sigh here] Continue reading
It's a Walled World After All
I live in an area crowded with old brownstones from the ’50s, low-rises with big windows, balconies, and narrow streets between them. The illusion of it being an intimate neighbourhood is exceedingly well done.
For all its lack of imposing, stacked up against the major metropolitan downtown that’s only a few kilometres from here, it’s amazing how little I’ve met the people I’ve lived around for a decade. Maybe a third of those in my alleyway have lived here for the decade I have. Of them, I know perhaps five.
For three months now, I’ve wondered where one of them, the neighbour I overlook from my kitchen, was. I assumed some big trip around the world, since more than a few people around here have turned out to be travellers.
But then I saw her Friday for the first time in three months — more than 100 pounds heavier, looking 15 years older, tired, worn, and just about to quit — life, not just her job. My heart went through the floor. Continue reading