Bring on February 15th!!

I am a firm believer that Valentine's Day is only good as a type of New Year's Eve to February 15th. Why?? Easy answer to that: half price chocolate. It's Half-Price Chocolate Eve!! It could even be considered the Single Girl's Holiday because we all know how wonderful Valentine's Day is to us single ladies, heartbroken ladies, divorcing and abused ladies. All of us ladies who are still looking for love, attention and affection. Boys too I suppose but sorry guys, you don't count in my blog tonight.

I have found it easier, as a recently separated single girl with an ex who moved on barely a week after I left (questionable, I know) who is celebrating her first Valentine's alone in over six years, to think of the day as one of growth. The type of growth that allows us to pull the blanket over our heads in the morning and groan that the bed is empty. We lay there on our back, hands at our sides and staring at the sheet that's covering our face like a veil. We start thinking about what we did in past years, who we were with and how we felt. Then with another groan, possibly a grunt and fart, maybe a little belly or butt scratch (because we can do that when we're alone) we fling those blankets back and proclaim: "I will NOT let this day bother me!!" However, we did buy that extra box of Kleenex because after that proclamation, we tend to cry a little.

The day bothers us, there is no question about that. How we handle it is the key. Some of us eat as much as we can to stuff the bitterness down, some celebrate their freedom and enjoy a night out on the town, some drink alone or with a couple of close single friends. Generally, no married people or couples around because you guys are a different breed and us lonely single fools don't like you today. Stay away, we're a little vicious at your public displays of "true love". Blech, you make me sick. Sorry.

But this morning after my proclamation, my watery eyes and my obligatory pout, I turned over to see my little girl standing there with a big read piece of construction paper and the messy "I Love Mommy" scribbled under a rough but beautiful heart. Sometimes Half-Price Chocolate Eve can surprise us that maybe the love we are celebrating on the day isn't necessarily that of the person, man or woman, who is, has been or will be sharing the other half of your bed. Sometimes it's the mini-people who make you the most eye-catching and amazing pieces of fridge art, the itty-bitty blonde three-year-old who squeezes my neck and tells me that she "wobs" me. Then there is my little man, my Meatball whose steel blue eyes tell me that there are going to be a few ladies doing my little lonely Valentine 1st Annual Pout and Fart because of him. They all crawled in bed with me, they all hugged me and jumped on me and all of a sudden I realized:

That half of my bed is full. It's full of three little people who will make Half-Price Chocolate Eve one of my favourite commercial holidays.

Insanity is the Breath of Life ... what?

Topic: Insanity
Mood: Insane

Had an excellent conversation with a good friend of mine today about the importance of being slightly insane. Is it true that intelligence and mental illness border on one another?? If that's the case then I'm either intelligent or completely batshit crazy. I like to think I'm an eclectic mix of both.

Is it possible that some of us see the world in a completely different way than everyone else?? Is it that our quiet and introspective selves of those of us who may have an askew view, make us come across as being a little on the "needs to medicated" side of life? I ponder this as I think about growing up and being a very strange child, talking to my imaginary friend who whispered in my ear and acting out whole scenarios by myselfn which was for shear entertainment. I attribute a lot of that to spending a good majority of my time alone and, as a result became an observer of life around me, blending into the background of my home life and watching my family's interactions.

Now, as an adult, I am still an observer of life. I have horrible tendancies to tune people out when they talk to me and just watch what's going on around me. I have a great ability to adapt myself to any situation I'm in and just blend into the background - Allie the Chameleon. However, when this happens and I tune these people out, I can't answer questions about what they were saying or remember a topic because I didn't hear it and as a result, I come across as being flighty and aloof. Alright, I am pretty flighty and aloof but I'm not stupid, I'm just not paying attention and I lose my concentration quickly if the topic of conversation is vapid gossip or unimportant rumour and sometimes even stories of things that happened or movies.

I do find it odd that even though I end up tuning people out and just watching their actions and the actions/reactions of those around them ... the give an take of human interaction, there are some people who just hold my attention intensly. Maggpie is one, Miami is another. I think that's why we've been friends for so long; due to the fact that they understand me whereas most people just don't know how to read me. I do come across as quiet, somewhat shy to some and to others I'm mouthy and brazen. Odd combination which makes it difficult for anyone to really know me or understand me. There are a few others who hold my attention and with silly topics that would normally send my brain to paying attention to the way they moved their hands to emphasize an emotion or the way their lip twitched when they said something that excited them and away from what they're actually saying. It's weird.

Just because I tune out does not mean that I'm ignoring them or disinterested. I can't explain any further, I don't have the words to do so correctly. Does this chameleon-like behaviour and my brain's ability to drift off into it's own study of the world around me make me crazy?? Does the fact that my constant jabbering to myself all through my childhood carried over into my adulthood give a good argument for mental illness?? Is my brain tuning things out as a way to keep the insanity at bay?? Does my psyche realize that I can be hyper-sensitive and so, drift off to other things as a means to protect itself?? Phew...self-psychoanalysis ...

I honestly think we all tune out, we all talk to ourselves, we're all observers in one way or another and introspection, in it's finest and most intense form isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes a little insanity is the breath of life ... Maggpie, you just may have stumbled onto something with that statement

Turning 29? Yeah, sure ... why not ...

So, a week from tomorrow I'm going to have a birthday. It's a scary birthday because it means I'm going into the last year of decade. This particular decade is the one that is supposed to be the one that defines us, sets us up and makes us who we are as people. Me, personally find that it's just a beginning because my head is still as far up my ass as it was ten years ago. My 20s are almost over, I'm turning 29. Wow, twenty-nine. That's not old by any means but it's an age that I used to plan for. As a little girl I'd think to myself, "When I'm old, like twenty-nine, I'm going to be married to Donnie Wahlberg (yes, that is a New Kids on the Block reference) and have two babies and house with a pool and a car". Oh my. Sort of turned that fantasy on it's ear.

Why does that particular age sound so phony? What I mean is this: when someone says they are twenty-nine we usually look at them like "yeah right, how far into your thirties are you?". So, here I am turning twenty-nine for the very first time. I say the first time because I plan on turning twenty-nine again next year and the year after. Well, maybe not because I am oddly looking forward to turning thirty. The prospect of getting older doesn't really frighten me because I have come to the conclusion that getting older only breeds knowledge and maturity. Both of these are things that I am looking forward to. I'm already looking back and shaking my head and some of things I did and said along the way -- hindsight.

Do I have any big plans for my First Twenty-Ninth Birthday?? No, not really. I think I'll just do what I do every birthday and avoid the world. I'll snuggle in at home and enjoy the day. Spend time with the babies, enjoy my Happy Birthday phone calls and maybe a visit. I don't really want to party or go out or get crazy. I might change my mind when the time comes but right now, I think quiet is the best way to go. Reflect and think about the last year ... the last nine years since turning twenty and see where my life has gone, how I can change those things I'm not happy with and how I can make those things I am happy with last.

Do I want any presents? No. I don't want a single thing. What I'd like for my birthday is hugs from my kids and that's about it. Well, that and a million dollars, a muscle-bound Swedish masseuse, a self-cleaning toilet and a trip to the moon. Actually, I would give anything to spend my birthday with my parents and my daughter. You know, I might do just that and make a trip to the graveyard. I should be thanking them for giving me the ability to have a birthday. If it wasn't for my parents, I couldn't be sitting here now and blogging my random nonsense.

So, I'll raise a little toast to Ma, Da and Mommy and say thank you for giving me the life that I am screwing up and thank you to my little girl Hannah for showing me how precious life really is.

Alright, this is a little intense for me...

There is a lot going on in my life right now, between learning to survive completely alone with three small kids to facing a looming and possibly ominous medical diagnosis. I've managed to break down, crack up, go insane, question reality, debate decisions and try to define consequence. All through this my blog has become very cathartic for me, my outlet for my emotional outbursts. They were pretty frequent and most of them are sitting in a draft folder, never to be published publicly but saved for my own memory. It took me reading all of those things to get some perspective as to the journey that I am on.

This perspective has made me realize just how strong I have become, just how much I have grown and the immense amount of things I learned in the short time I have been fighting internally about this break-up. What I am realizing is that the stages of grief do apply to a break-up with the exception that the loved one lost in a break-up brings insurmountable challenges every single day. For example, there is dealing with someone new taking your place the minute you leave it; someone else who is trying to be a parent to your children; the financial difficulties; the loss of physical closeness; the loss of spoken words and comforts; trying to face them to make the decisions regarding children when you wish they would just disappear because even the thought of them not being a part of who you are anymore makes you cringe; trying to figure out how to keep and hold onto friends and loved ones. The list can go on and on.

For me I know that I did deny that there was any major change and things would never be the same again. I know that I bargained and pleaded for them to go back to the way they were. Sound familiar? Stages of grief. But, I have come to a point now where I'm moving on a path towards healing and understanding. I have come to know that he is always going to be a part of my life through the children and I am always going to love him unconditionally because of that. I know that I will always consider him family as I will his mother, brothers, etc. That aside, I have to leave room for them to get to know the new person and build their relationship with her. I am being replaced and as much as it pains me, I've accepted it. Another stage of grief.

Through all this fighting and crying and loneliness I seem to be coming out on the other side with a realization. A realization that what I had wasn't really what I wanted and couldn't have been really happy or would still be there and leaving wouldn't have crossed my mind to begin with. The realization that my loneliness is what was making me remember all the good things and only when I accepted reality did that make me that the amount of hurt I was feeling was outweighing what was good. I can't go back to the frequent fights, threats and punches only to feel the infrequent hugs.

I am beginning to feel renewed, as though I am starting to become the person I am meant to be and not just the other half of someone else. It's as though I'm not being defined through someone else but as a whole person, standing strong and fighting for what she needs for her family to survive. In this feeling of being renewed I am also rediscovering who it is that I am. I have started to remember the music that I like, the movies that I enjoy, the goals and aspirations that I had for myself and not just what I wanted for someone else. I don't have to coddle and push someone else's emotional growth any longer and can foster my own self-discovery without fear or retribution for my attention being taken away.

So, after six years of living my life trying to make a better life for someone else and being in their shadow, I am standing on my own two feet and reclaiming my life. I am reclaiming my strength, my intuition, my independence, my individuality and perspective.

Reclamation of Self.

Yes it still hurts. Yes I still miss him. Yes I get knots in my stomach at the thought of him with someone else. Yes I have regrets but they are becoming an afterthought and the pain doesn't seem to be as sharp anymore. I believe this is what would be called the beginning of moving on ... and on that token, I don't believe that I need another man to help me get over this one. I think that leaving my bed empty and figuring out what went wrong with these last six years and putting some closure on it for myself, allowing myself to lick the wounds and fight the sadness will give me a better understanding of what I really want from a serious relationship. I think that allowing myself to heal and become stronger will ultimately help me find someone who is beyond reproach and worthy of the love that I have to give him. Being alone to find yourself again isn't all that bad and the knowledge that you can be a whole person even when you're utterly alone can only make you stronger in the long run. I think we really need to know what's inside ourselves and allow ourselves to heal before we can open our hearts to someone and risk that hurt again. But that's my opinion.

I'm going to open my own school of procrastination ... next week

It's been a couple of days. I've bee on the hunt for apartments or a house so that I can get my chubby, white ass out of here and into something more comfortable. I've decided to say a good "fuck you" to the place that I left and stay where I am. My family is here ... the most important people.

I've been working and I don't really like it but it's money for now. Decided to go back to university in the fall to finish my degree. I want to switch from Psych to English considering I'm getting a lot of good feedback from this little thing and since I've been published in other newspapers/magazines, I think I should up the anty and get a degree behind my name. Maybe then I could be taken a little more seriously and ask for more money.

I was also thinking that I could teach some classes to make some extra money while I'm in school. When you consider that I'm a single mother of three small kids, I need all the income I can get. So, here is my personalized list of courses offered by none other than...MOI:

Fartology 101: The History and Art of Flatulence
Modern Procrastination: How to Effectively Reschedule Assignments

Okay, so I left off at two. I re-read my study plan for Modern Procrastination and have decided that I'll finish my course list at another time. See, my studies are affective!

I just realized that it's after midnight and I've got one hell of a busy day tomorrow. I have to get up with the babies, get one out to school, make a lot of phone calls to schedule a lot of appointments. It's going to be busy and stressful and I can't wait until it's Friday and it's over. Mondays are harsh days, especially ones like the one I'm facing tomorrow. I won't be reading my course schematics for Modern Procrastination tomorrow morning.

Alright, I'm done. I feel a vent waiting to come flying out of my fingertips and I don't want to do it....oh....here...it is:

Equalization payments are necessary for the survival of this island. The problem is that there has to be equalization within the communities. Take that for you what you will but I don't see the point of developing the downtown core of Sydney only. Why don't we develop Whitney Pier, New Waterford, Glace Bay, Louisbourg and bring back some old landmarks like the old motel in Broughton -- a booming business in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Wouldn't making all the towns in this God forsaken corner of the world cause our little Celtic island to become one of the more attractive attractions for businesses to set up shop. And, wouldn't all this development create more jobs thus creating more revenue within our economy? It's a sad state to realize that the biggest business on this island is the illegal sale of prescription drugs. I'm sure this isn't something that's going to be easily fixed but maybe the development of our tiny towns, the prospect of new and good paying jobs becoming available and the idea that maybe life here is worth something bring a new sense of peace to the already unhappy and jaded citizens that live here??

Now I'm sure that not everyone is looking at life in Cape Breton the same way I do. As much as I love it here, I hate it at the same time. I hate the lack of opportunity and growth. I hate the nepotism and limited job creation. I hate the opportunities that are given to those already in benefit and leaving us little peons to fight and fend over seats in call centres and shopping malls. I'm not putting down these jobs because they are decent and reasonable ways to make a living; I've been doing it myself but it's sad to look at the amount of skilled workers who are not using their talents. EDS alone has an 80% rate of university or college graduates answering their phones. Why can't we develop a plan of action that will create more jobs for those people to utilize their hard-earned education which will in turn free up more seats in these centres for other skilled workers to develop their skills and experience?? Why are the majority of our trade workers leaving the island to spend months on end in freezing cold climates on highly dangerous work sites to bring home money for their familes, some of whom had forgotten them the minute they leave the door?? It's not fair to us that we are being led to believe that the only real opportunities for a comfortable life lie on the other side of the Canso Causeway.

Alright, I've lost myself in this little rant of how unfairly this island can treat us. We do create our own fate and we are masters of our destiny. If we work hard we will be rewarded and I am a firm believer in that. However, sometimes the struggle can be foreboding and we get lost in the wash of broken promises and a sea of resumes. But, if we sit back and look at the Bras d'or Lakes, Kelly's Mountain, the Highlands, the docks, the piers, the fishing boats lined up and colourful in Port Morien we realize that the poverty that is here is almost worth the beauty that we get to enjoy whenever we wish. The quiet parks, the slow pace and the friendly people are what makes us stand out from the rest of the humdrum world. We ARE different and we are a special group of people, all living on a tiny Atlantic island, making us all a family tied by history instead of blood. We should be celebrating our heritage and developing our towns to make the most attractive place to live and work our own back yard.

So, now that naive and somewhat seemingly juvenile blabber about our islands state of affairs through half finished thoughts and sleepy hands is finished .... any arguements??