cassa verba

Tree-hugging hippy

2009-12-31T17:26:00.000+11:00

It seems I am slowly, but surely, turning into a tree-hugging hippy. This in itself is curious for someone who doesn't really like the great outdoors all that much but apparently I am a woman of contradictions. Hey, I like to keep people on their toes.

Recently I've been looking into home made cleaning products. This appeals to me partly because of my cheapskate gene but also because I would like to reduce the amount of chemicals with which I surround myself daily (without having to give up dyeing my hair...) I trawled around the web for a while and finally found this recipe for washing powder - and the whole blog is great so it's now on my blogroll to the right there. I made the heavy duty version, minus the borax which I couldn't find in the supermarket. I've just finished my third load of washing and so far it seems to be working fine. My slighty-yellowed-with-age white sheets are still slightly yellow but the white bits are as white as ever. I only wash in cold water so I'll have to add a bit of vinegar to the fabric softener compartment occasionally but I'm sure I can manage that.

And somehow this makes me feel a whole lot better about the fact that most of my veges didn't survive the first Spring heatwave...
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Fit by 40

2009-12-28T22:07:00.000+11:00

Firstly, and completely unrelated to the post title, I've turned word verification back on. Sigh. Silly spammers.

Now, back to the real post. In just a few days it will be 2010. That's a momentous year. For a start, it's a round number and they're always satisfying... but more than that, it's the year in which (dun dun DUNNNN) I turn 40! I find it hard to believe, but it's definitely true. My birth certificate confirms it and if that were in doubt the fashions my parents were wearing in my baby photos would give it away.

Still, 40 is not so bad, right? I mean, I've hardly achieved any of the things I expected but I've achieved many other completely unexpected and wonderful things so I'm more than willing to call it even. This is not like a movie where I find a letter to myself, written when I was 15, speculating on what life would be like for me at 40 - on the whole I think I'm fairly satisfied with my life. However (yes, there's always a 'but', even when I disguise it in a fancier word) there's one thing that's been nagging at me. I am overweight and unfit. Okay, that's two things but they're related. I have spent a large part of my adult life promising myself that some time REALLY SOON I'll get my act together and start exercising and eating better. Hollow promises, as it turned out, but that's about to change.

I cannot - I will not - start my 40s feeling unhealthy and self-conscious. I'm working really hard on things inside my head; it's time to work on the rest of me too. I mentioned recently that I've started the C25K running program and that's been going well. It's early days so I'm not feeling any fitter yet but I'm really enjoying achieving each day's goal. I want to keep going. No, I'm not going to turn into one of those scary, wild-eyed exercise fanatics. Seriously, don't you know me by now?? That's NOT me! I do, however, want to be healthy and fit.

Fit by 40. I have 11 months to go..

Things of which I am proud

2009-12-25T12:39:00.008+11:00

For Kate, here's a list of things of which I am proud and/or thankful in 2009...

I am proud that I got through the entire winter without depression, for the first time in... well, a long time.

I am proud of the times when I am able to say, "I was abused."

I am proud of finally saying, "I believe I can change and that healing is possible" and actually meaning it.

I am thankful that, with God and good friends, I survived a difficult period at work without killing the people who were making it difficult (even though I fantasised about it).

I am thankful for the fantastic people I've met through blogging.

I am enormously thankful for the love and support of 'N' and 'K', my wonderful prayer buddies.

I am thankful for a counsellor I can trust, who is also helpful, wise and funny, and who knows when to push and when to back off (although I admit I am not always thankful at the time when she pushes me). :D

I am proud of every bit of healing progress I have made, even when it's only tiny. It all counts.

I am thankful for music and poetry that lifts my spirits, makes me smile and shines a light in dark places.

I am thankful for my cat and her funny ways.

I am thankful that setbacks are temporary... and thankful for those who remind me of that when I'm stuck in darkness and can't see a way out.

I am thankful beyond words that God bears with me and loves me extravagantly and forever - even in the face of my constant doubts, uncertainties and fears.

And for more thankful lists from some wonderful people, check out Kate, Becky, Crazy Sister and Scurrette.
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Lurid cakey goodness

2009-12-22T22:41:00.004+11:00

There's a story behind why I chose a frog theme for this birthday cake... suffice it to say it's an 'in-joke' that would not translate well. It's not even MY in-joke, to be honest, but I was told about it and couldn't resist the temptation to stir the pot a little.

Apparently the cake was enjoyed...

...by all!

I am feeling sooo smug

2009-12-19T12:38:00.003+11:00

Okay, I need to preface this by explaining that I am very unfit and although I have these fantasies where I become a lean, fit, exercise junkie, in reality I don't enjoy exercising that much and I've never stuck at it long enough to get that endorphin hit that those scary exercise fanatics talk about all the time. In fact I've always thought that those scary exercise fanatics are secretly disgusted by people like me, so you can imagine how completely self-conscious and uncomfortable I was dragging my pale flabby body around the gym, surrounded by the aforementioned fanatics.

However, I have reached the unenviable point where my need for exercise is greater than my desire to avoid it. I am overweight and unfit, and that's not great, but I also need to exercise for my mental health to keep anxiety under control and depression at bay. Sigh. When both my mind AND my body need it, what can I do?

Some time ago a friend told me about C25K, the 'couch to 5k run in 9 weeks' program and I think I've mentioned it on here before too (but I can't be bothered looking for it right now). The friend who first mentioned it is one of the last people I would have ever picked as a runner... and then another friend told me she'd been doing it and I would have bet every cent I have that SHE would never, ever run anywhere. So I thought, if they can do it then surely I can at least give it a go, right? There is no way I have enough self confidence to try exercising outside, in public, where people might see me - but as we know I have that nice shiny treadmill that hasn't seen all that much use.

So... today I did C25K W1D1 (Week 1, Day 1) which is 5 minutes of brisk walking, then alternating 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking for a total of 20 minutes. I took that to mean 20 minutes in addition to the first 5 minutes of walking, so 25 minutes in total. You fit and healthy people are probably thinking this sounds like less than you do for a warm up, but let me tell you this is a big deal for me. It's a very big deal. I have never jogged in my entire life. Admittedly, I was jogging at a speed I could have walked if I'd wanted (albeit quite briskly) but still... jogging. That means there were moments there when this fat and wobbly body was airborne! That usually only happens when I fall over...

I am NOT fit - have I mentioned that? - so by the end of the 25 minutes I was pretty puffed and I think my face was a shade of deep purple often seen as a feature wall in classy homes, but still... I DID IT! I have to do the same thing twice more this coming week and then the following week I get to go to the next step. They recommend doing a pace that you can manage so if it means doing each week twice and making it an 18 week program that's okay too. I'll see how I go.

Anyway, at the risk of blowing my own trumpet... wow, I am so proud of myself.
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Turtle

2009-12-15T20:26:00.000+11:00

I saw this musician the other night - she was a support act for Nicky Chiswell and they were doing a gig to raise money for a beach mission team in my church. Check out this clip... her name is Clara Rhoden and she was awesome.

"If you sit on my lap today..."

2009-12-13T21:33:00.000+11:00

I put up my Christmas tree this evening (to the great fascination of my cat) and, as is traditional with me, put on the DVD of the Rankin-Bass animation "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town", with the voices of Fred Astaire and Micky Rooney. I love Rankin-Bass animation, particularly the stop motion animation, and have collected a few DVDs as they've become available. They were mostly done in the late 60s/early 70s so they're not as politically correct as some animated films produced today. I realised just how much times have changed as I listened to one of the songs, sung by Kris Kringle when he first goes to Sombertown to give gifts to the children. The chorus goes: "If you sit on my lap today, a kiss a toy is the price you'll pay..."

Strangely, that song is often missing when the show airs on television. Go figure.
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Give us this day...

2009-12-12T12:47:00.001+11:00

Breadmaker: $17.99 in an op shop six months ago. It's paid for itself 10 times over. Score.

Drastic measures

2009-12-10T17:41:00.004+11:00

Sometimes they are needed...

(That is the freezer, in case it's not obvious...)

Is this a joke?

2009-12-10T07:06:00.001+11:00

I'm still living partly in the Cave O' Hibernation but emerging every now and then to growl at people. Fun times. I'm not doing all that well, to be honest, but sometimes that's just the way it goes. I'm trying to deal with some rather heavy stuff that came up partly through writing and partly through other things and it's tough going. Very tough going.

Part of the fallout from all of this is massively increased anxiety. I've had a number of middle-of-the-night anxiety episodes of the heart-thumping, buzzing-with-adrenaline variety and they are not fun. They're not up to my level 10 yet (on a 1-10 scale) but they're certainly higher than normal and as a consequence I'm sleep deprived and I feel sick most of the time.

So here's where the cruel joke starts. Do you know what helps with anxiety? I mean really helps with it? Exercise. Not just any exercise, but exercise vigorous enough to increase the heart rate significantly. And I have to ask... why couldn't it have been chocolate? Or lying in a hammock? Or sitting on the beach?

Exercise. Honestly. Whose idea was that?
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On a similar note...

2009-12-05T21:28:00.004+11:00

The squeamish should probably stop reading now, because I'm continuing on the menstrual theme. I've had some questions recently about my menstrual cup and as I'm always delighted to sing the praises of my fabulous cup I'm answering the questions by subjecting my blog readers to an entire post of icky, squirmy girly stuff. (Except, of course, it's not icky... which is the point of the thing.)

Uhh, so what is this cup thing?
A menstrual cup is a small, inverted-bell shaped cup, usually made of medical-grade soft silicone. There are a number of different types available now and they all look like a variation of this:

Okay, cute. What's it for and how do you use it?
It's essentially a tampon alternative. You fold it, insert it in your vagina and let it unfold. It forms a seal against the vaginal walls below your cervix and then sits there catching blood and menstrual fluid. Kind of like the picture below, except that most women don't have 500 metres between the cup and their cervix like in the diagram... and so far as I know my uterus is not green.

Seems a little gross. What happens when it's full?
When it's full, or before it's full, you go to the bathroom, squeeze the bottom of the cup to break the seal, remove it, dump the contents in the toilet, wash the cup if you want and then reinsert it. Some people are fanatical about scrubbing and sterilising the cup every time (not that you can actually 'sterilise' anything without, you know, an autoclave...), some just rinse it, some... like me... just give it a good clean at the end of their cycle.

Doesn't it leak everywhere?
Sometimes it can leak a little bit before you get the hang of using it and find exactly the best positioning for you. It's different for everyone and it can take a couple of cycles to fully work out what's best for your body. Mine has never leaked but I know it's happened to others. Also, if it completely fills up the seal will break, which will cause some overflow. Once you work out how long it take your body to fill it then there is usually no problem.

Is it uncomfortable?
I have never been able to feel it... to the point where I've sometimes forgotten it was even there.

Alright, but what's so great about it?
Well, women like them for different reasons but here are the top points for me.

1. It's better for your body than tampons. Tampons are designed to absorb any fluid in the general area, which means that in addition to catching blood they also absorb the natural self-cleaning lubrication that your body needs. They dry out everything, they can leave minute fibres behind and those fibres can scratch the vaginal walls... and that's what can cause Toxic Shock Syndome. Cups don't absorb anything; they just catch menstrual fluid and there are no nasty little cotton fibres to be left behind. Of course it's always wise to be careful and wash your hands, but to date there is not a single recorded case of TSS linked with cup use.

2. They last about 2-3 times longer than tampons between toilet trips. On my heaviest days a tampon would last me maybe 2 hours. On my very heaviest days now it takes about 4-6 hours for me to fill my cup. Women with a lighter flow can go 12 hours or more.

3. I haven't had to buy anything from the 'feminine hygeine' aisle for years, nor do I have to worry about running out of products at an inconvenient time. I forked out about $60 for my cup roughly 4 years ago and it's likely still to be going strong in another 6 years or so. You do the maths on that.

4. I'm not contributing to landfill. In the US it is estimated that there are 12 billion pads and 7 million tampon being thrown out and going to landfill EVERY YEAR. Obviously those numbers are smaller for Australia, but still the average woman is likely to use this amount of disposable products (pads and/or tampons) over ten years:

Multiply that by... well, a lot of women... and you have a lot of money and a lot of waste in landfill.

Well, I'm still grossed out but I might do some investigation. Where should I look?
Start by Googling 'menstrual cups'. I use the Mooncup (although I chopped off the stem because it was useless and uncomfortable) but there are many different kinds available now so do your own research. They even come in different colours! The only bad news here is that they're not available in shops in Australia so you WILL have to buy them online if you want one. Because it's an internally worn product and it's medical grade silicone the TGA wants to classify it as a medical product so they're still not allowing any businesses to import them yet. Sigh.

For those who haven't run off screaming, thank you for allowing me to rave about my cup - which is the best purchase I've ever made in my life - and I hope I covered all the questions people have had for me recently.

Returning you to your normal programming now...
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Don't even ask...

2009-12-04T16:10:00.001+11:00

There's a convoluted explanation for how this memory reappeared in my head, so don't even bother asking. It's really not important. Just enjoy the story.

When I was in my first year of high school we had sex education/puberty lessons in health class. These days they do it earlier, since kids tend to develop earlier, but in those days it was first year of high school and there were plenty of kids who had no idea about any of this stuff so there were lots of questions. To combat embarrassment we were invited to write questions down and drop them in the question box, with the assurance that they'd all be answered the following week.

The next week rolled around and the teacher brought in the box of questions. She pulled out the first one and said, "I assume that this question was meant to say 'what happens if you are playing sport on the field and menstruation occurs?'.... but what this person wrote was 'what happens if you are playing sport on the field and masturbation occurs?'... [she paused briefly, then deadpanned]... and my answer to that is, I can only suggest you get off the sports field as quickly as possible!"
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A small rant

2009-12-01T13:45:00.002+11:00

Technically I'm back online but I'm still writing furiously so I'm remaining in semi-hibernation, but MAN... I had to blog about this.

This morning I drove past the church near me with the appallingly bad signs out the front. Today's offering was short: "Live your truth". Not 'live the truth' but 'live YOUR truth'. May I just say one small thing? It's this... AAARRRGGGHHHH!!! Get a dictionary - there's no such thing as YOUR truth and MY truth; there is just truth. TRUTH IS NOT RELATIVE!!

Thank you. That is all.
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And even more LOLz...

2009-11-28T19:16:00.001+11:00

...because it's a great way to procrastinate when the writing gets a bit hard...

More LOLz

2009-11-27T23:25:00.000+11:00

So, Crazy Sister started it and then Givinya threw down the challenge... and since I love LOLcats, I had to join in. (Particularly since I have an actual cat which, I hasten to point out, is the same breed as the original LOLcat.)

Heh. So anyway, here is my contribution.

I'm not here. Truly.

2009-11-22T18:05:00.001+11:00

I know, I know, I said I was disappearing until the end of November... and yet here I am. Addicted? No way! Just enthusiastic. Yeah, that's it... enthusiastic.

I am, for those interested, nowhere near 50,000 words. I'm at about 17,000 now and with just over a week to go there's no way I'll reach the 50K goal. However, that's okay. I decided a while ago to forget the word goal and concentrate on the words themselves. That goes entirely against the spirit of NaNoWriMo but I don't care, because I've made some great discoveries. In the process of putting parts of my story together I am finding links I had never seen before. I'm developing an understanding of some things and starting to see the inherent sadness of other things. The entire process has been incredibly valuable, more than I ever anticipated, and that is worth a great deal more than the satisfaction of reaching a word goal.

The flipside of this, however, is that a whole lot of stuff is being churned up and I don't necessarily have the capacity to deal with it all at once. Of course I don't have to deal everything at the same time, but a lot of it is out there now and it's hard to unring a bell, you know? So I'm continuing to take things slowly... I'm still a hermit, I'm still minimising my online activity and I'm taking lots of breaks from writing when I think my body and mind need it. If I were listening to my counsellor I'd also be shunning junk food, eating more vegetables and doing plenty of exercise, but hey, one can't have everything. (Although... if I HAD listened to her advice about self-care then I might not have had those midnight anxiety attacks either so perhaps there's something in what she says...)

So this is where I'm at. And hey, who's sick to death of the interminable updates about Femina's mental health and counselling sessions? Yeah, me too... but like I said, this is where I'm at...
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In which Femina disappears...

2009-11-15T22:16:00.002+11:00

...just for a fortnight.

It's been a big few weeks, and I think NaNoWriMo is taking its toll. It's been great in some ways... I'm loving forcing myself to write even when I don't feel like it and I like having a goal (although I am about 10,000 words behind where I should be by this stage) but it's been very intense and emotionally draining. Partly that's because I'm writing about a lot of things that I normally take one at a time - I'm talking about abuses that happened when I was growing up and how I felt about myself at the time; I'm reliving early counselling sessions with a counsellor who harmed more than she helped; I'm writing about depression and anxiety; and I'm talking about things I've learned and ways I've grown. It's all really great stuff but in order to get this material I'm reading old journal entries, emails and other things I've written over time. Reading the things I wrote when I was depressed made me very sad, and reading various emails I've written to my counsellor when I was in the middle of a dark place was not easy. Reading any journal entry I wrote when I was seeing my previous counsellor makes me sad and angry at the same time.

In addition to this fun-and-therapuetic-but-really-rather-draining writing I've also had a big couple of weeks. My new boss started two weeks ago and he's great - I think he'll be an excellent thing for the church and an excellent thing for us as a staff team - but we're all getting used to working together and that takes time, effort and energy. So far we're all working together well and I feel confident that will continue, but he's only just met us and we've only just met him. We're all still trying to get to know each other and to work out how we work best together. That's exhausting.

And to add one more thing to my already overflowing brain, I've just had a week where I was out every single night for one thing or another and to be blunt, I'm stuffed. Some of them were great things (including a fantastic birthday board-games-and-Indian-takeaway night last night) but still it takes its toll... and there's no respite yet because we have a women's ministry event coming up this Saturday and I'm one of the key people organising it. Yeah, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time...

Anyway, so this has all been a very long-winded way of saying that I'm going to be disappearing until the end of November. In truth I'll probably still read some blogs and I'll still be contactable on email for those who have my address but my intention (as in, those things with which the road to hell is paved) is to stick the phone on answering machine, refuse all social invitations unless it's a wedding or something, and stay off my computer as much as possible. Not sure how that's going to go since I may be a little bit addicted to Facebook but even halving my 'connectedness' will be a good start.

I need some quietness and contemplation and space. You'd think I already have that, since I live alone, but it's not the same thing. I need to retreat for a bit and live without a constant (self-inflicted) barrage of pictures and messages and sights and sounds and noise.

I may crack in three days, but I reckon it's worth a try. See you in a couple of weeks... and PLEASE remember to contact me if anything really juicy happens!
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Birthday poem

2009-11-12T18:03:00.001+11:00

A friend wrote me this poem for my birthday. It's not a hearts-and-flowers birthday poem; it's gritty and real and hopeful, and very insightful. I like it a lot. He has asked to remain anonymous.

(For more information about the title of the poem, read here and here.)

Asterion

Is there a chart for the scars of the past?

The house-bound monster longs for sacrifice.

Shall the fearful child be free at last?

The wisdom of your guide is unsurpassed,

But homeward, will the verbal thread suffice?

Is there an art for the scars of the past?

What now can break the fatal spell it cast?

Will sorrow grown familiar still entice?

Shall the anxious child be free at last?

Asleep you find the mutant child, the outcast,

Hidden in the centre of your strife.

Is this the start of the scars of the past?

The secret battle rages over the vast

Maze of memory, exacting its slow price.

Will the awkward child be free at last?

Returning, change the colours at the mast,

Celebrate the gift of unexpected life.

There is a balm for the scars of the heart.

May the hopeful child be free at last!

"She's a rebel..."

2009-11-09T09:53:00.003+11:00

"...and she never ever does what she should..."

I am officially a NaNoRebel. That's right, I've broken the rules. Happily there are a lot of us, hence the term 'NaNoRebel' rather than 'NaNoCheat'. I'm a rebel because I'm writing a memoir (albeit fictionalised) AND I'm using some previously written material. This is outside the NaNoWriMo guidelines... however, they're kind of okay with it and really just want people to write, so rebels are allowed so long as we admit that we're rebels. It's all good.

Current word count: 10,422. Still a bit behind but that's okay. And here's a tip I'll give you for nothing... a detailed description of a middle-of-the-night, off-the-scale anxiety attack is probably not something one should attempt to write at night, if one hopes to sleep at all. Apparently it's difficult to write about anxiety without feeling anxious. Huh. Well, lesson learned. It's also the only thing I've written so far that has made me cry.

Word Count

2009-11-05T00:20:00.002+11:00

6,240... slightly below the aim of 1,667 per day (which would put me at 6,668) but still not bad. Unfortunately the quality decreases as the word count goes up. Oh well.

Onward and upward. Writer's block, begone!
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NaNoWriMo - Day One

2009-11-01T23:11:00.000+11:00

It doesn't bode well that I got to about 5pm on day one of National Novel Writing Month and thought, "Oh yeah... I'm meant to be writing." As you can tell, I'm tremendously excited and couldn't wait to get started. :D

I've gone into this flying completely by the seat of my pants. I have no plans. I have no plot outline. I have no defined characters. I don't know what's going to happen or how it all ends. Ends? I'm not even sure how it starts. Nevertheless, my word count is 1,784. You need to write 1,667 per day to make it to 50,000 by 30 November so I'm ahead. Where I'll be in a week from now, and what will be on the page, is anyone's guess... whatever you do, don't ask ME. I have no idea.

And no, I'm not uploading any of it.
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I am surrounded by talent

2009-10-27T22:31:00.002+11:00

Wow, two posts in one evening. I am already practising my writing procrastination skills (by... errr... writing).

You know, I read a few blogs and have discovered quite a few more through other people's blogrolls. I love dipping into blogs that my other blog-friends read, partly because they are usually pretty good blogs and partly because it gives me an insight into the person who reads it. "Hmmm... so she regularly reads a blog about 18th century button collecting. Interesting."

Here's what I have discovered in my blog hopping: there are LOADS of talented, crafty people out there. A disproportionate amount - it feels like four out of five blogs are written by these crafty types. Are people who can sew/create somehow more likely to create a blog? Or is it that everyone else in the world apart from a dozen of us are tremendously talented and they kindly let the useless amongst us take up a quiet little corner of the blogosphere, way over here where we won't cause any damage?

Whatever the reason, I'm in awe. I can knit a little but most of it is pretty basic and I lose interest after a while so not a lot gets finished unless I'm knitting for someone else... and even then I generally only do baby stuff because it's easy and quick. My knitting, however, pales into insignificance when I read blogs where people are making clothes or quilts or bags or earrings or paintings or pendants or hats or... well, anything, really. What's even more amazing to me is that it's often people with three or four children who are making these things. Seriously, how on EARTH do they find the time?

Every time I read one of these blogs I think, "Right, that's it. I'm buying a sewing machine and I'm going to learn this sewing thing. I'll learn it, I'll love it and I'll blog about it. Yep, that's the plan."

Ten minutes later, I'm back to fixing my skirt hem with a bandaid...
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Signed away my sanity

2009-10-27T20:59:00.000+11:00

I opened a new post to tell you all about signing away my sanity, only to discover that this is my 400th post. As my dad would say, wacky-do! (No, really. He would actually say that. In public and everything.)

This may be proof that in fact I had no sanity to sign away in the first place, but I have just signed up for NaNoWriMo. Yep, that's National Novel Writing Month, where the aim is to write a 50,000 word novel in November. That's WRITE a 50,000 word novel, not tweak a novel you've already written or finish a novel you've already started. You're supposed to start from scratch on November 1 and aim to finish by midnight (your local time) on November 30. If you make it to 50,000 words by the deadline you can submit your novel to the website for an official word count and be declared a winner. (Everyone who finishes the word count is a winner. There are no actual prizes.) Here's an excerpt from the website:

Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.

Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down.

So, this means I shall either abandon my blog in November, or I'll be blogging every single day as a method of writing procrastination. Frankly, I have my doubts that I can do this and I feel sure I WILL write a lot of crap, but I don't care. I think it's going to be a hoot to give it a go... and as the website says, "Win or lose, you rock for even trying!"

I need a holiday

2009-10-23T09:39:00.001+11:00

So this morning I was chatting with my sister via email and she said, "I need a holiday," to which I replied, "Yeah, me too... and a holiday where I actually go somewhere." There was a thoughtful pause from me as I tried to remember the last holiday where I went somewhere. Okay, I remember now... it was the holiday where I did a bus tour of parts of the USA and Canada. I combined two bus tours, with a stop off in Calgary in between them to visit my cousins. The first tour was 16 days around these places:

That was a lot of fun and I stayed an extra couple of days in New York at the end, before heading off (via Calgary) for another 16 days around these places:

This part was even more fun because it included DISNEYLAND! And Las Vegas, which, if one is not gambling, is kind of like a grown-up Disneyland. It was lots of fun.

But here's the scary part. I was trying to remember exactly when I took this holiday, and finally realised it was just before the September 11 attacks (I left America on September 2, as it happens). That was in 2001... that's EIGHT YEARS AGO! I haven't had a holiday in EIGHT YEARS. Of course I've taken time off work, and had uni holidays in the 2004-2007 period when I was studying, but I used the time to visit family or to stay at home relaxing. There's nothing wrong with a stay-at-home holiday, but geez... has it really been that long?

Right now I have exactly NO money for a holiday and that is likely to be the case for quite a while but still I think I'm going to have to come up with some sort of holiday idea soon. Because wow, eight years...

I need a holiday.
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Opinions - I has them.

2009-10-20T19:15:00.000+11:00

During two years of counselling I've discovered many things about myself. Some things have been good and some have been... hmm... somewhat more challenging. My most recent discovery has surprised me a little - I've discovered that I have opinions. I know, that sounds nuts, doesn't it? Everyone has opinions. What I haven't known until recently, however, are MY opinions. This is not to say I've never had an opinion on anything - in fact I'm sure there are plenty of people who would call me very opinionated - but I've never been confident in my opinions and have always been easily swayed to other opinions, partly because I haven't trusted myself and partly from fear of rejection. Those things are still there to a degree, but I'm slowly discovering what *I* like and what *I* think... and sometimes it surprises me.

So today I did some clothes shopping. It was a spur of the moment thing (most of the 'spurring' coming from one friend who recommended a fabulous shop and another friend who came with me and 'encouraged' me to buy the things I did) and I spent waaay too much money, but I don't care. I bought things I would never have bought a year ago or even six months ago because I didn't really know what I liked and I feared wearing anything that might draw attention to me. This, of course, led to some boring fashion choices. Here are todays's choices... far less boring than previous choices and for the first time I really know that I like them and want to wear them:

This one is actually a birthday present from a friend (but I don't have to wait until my birthday, which is not until next month). The red is darker than in the photo.

This is from the same store, which has some truly fabulous stuff. (First photo is the front, second is the back.)

Also from the same store... it's actually striped, not grey, but it doesn't show up well in the picture. The second pic shows the detail.

Trust me when I say that this one looks a LOT better on!

On to another store... I saw these months ago but they were too expensive. Guess what? They were $40 cheaper today AND in my size!

And what are shoes without a handbag? (It's not leather and it's a darker red than the photo.)

I also bought this in black but it didn't photograph very well. It's a long, swingy coatish thing which I'll probably wear with jeans.

Another casual one...

See the lovely royal blue on this one? It's actually a dark purple but my silly camera didn't want to co-operate. The top itself is also black and not that weird, faded, greyish black that it appears here.

Last photo - this is also a darker black than in the photo.

In addition to all of this I bought a couple of plain tee shirts (one black, one white) and a couple of singlets to go under the more revealing items.

All up, a very nice day. Hooray for shopping and hooray for starting to find my voice. It's a great feeling.

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God made me crazy

2009-10-13T23:26:00.002+11:00

Some months ago a friend of mine started seeing the same counsellor I see. As my friend doesn't drive I offered to take her there for appointments, and her sessions are generally in the evenings so we have dinner together at my house beforehand. We've also just completed the Anxiety Management course I mentioned a couple of weeks ago.... all up my friend and I have spent quite a bit of time together recently. Tonight I remarked that the great thing about this is that we've got to know each other a lot better, which I think we've both enjoyed.

I feel sure that God had a hand in pushing together two friends with similar insecurities into a situation where they can support each other and have fun too. Isn't that great? God made me crazy so I could make more friends! Hehe. (It's okay - you're allowed to laugh. God has a great sense of humour. Truly.)
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Healing words

2009-10-12T00:10:00.000+11:00

Thank you all for your comments on my last post - both the comments on my blog and those that came to me via email. I appreciate them more than I can adequately express.

I'm not sure I made it very clear that my last post was a positive one. Well, the background information was negative, but the fact that I'm feeling the tiniest shred of something that might one day become compassion towards myself is... okay, it sounds like not much but believe me it's a big deal, and a very positive step in the right direction.

But back to you all... you "faceless internet identities" who've never met me in real life. I'm a stranger to you, right? Why should you care? Why on earth would you be supportive? And yet you are NOT strangers to me, even though we have not met. You DO care and you ARE supportive - time and time again, and in wonderful ways that I could not have expected. You have become my friends and I am blessed.

So I'm taking your comments to me from posts in recent weeks (plus some from people who know me for real) and I'm writing them here as facts. I don't believe them all yet, and maybe I won't for a long time, but I am kept strong by the fact that you believe them. My belief in myself is shaky but I am hanging on to your belief. So here goes...

* I have an amazing way with words
* I am courageous, strong and vulnerable
* I am a great woman
* I have a strong faith
* I am part of the Body of Christ
* I am precious
* I am a woman of compassion
* I am loved by God
* I am God's creation
* I am special
* I am worthwhile...

Thank you, my friends. When I come to believe these things it will be, in part, because you believed them first and helped point me towards the truth.
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The age of compassion

2009-10-10T16:57:00.005+11:00

In recent counselling sessions I've talked a bit about particular incidents that happened when I was growing up and still living at home. Mixed up with these memories are my thoughts and feelings about myself during that time. I've looked at photos of myself when I was small. There's one in particular where I'm about three years old - I'm sitting on the lounge talking on the phone and laughing and looking very cute. It's a happy photo and when I look at the little girl in that photo I feel so sad for her. My brother started treating me badly when I was quite young. I have no memory of it not happening and given that he's six years older than me it's likely that he was already picking on me to some degree even when I was that little. I look at the photo and I can see how awful it is that anyone could tell that happy little girl that she's worthless. Even more sad is that she would grow up to believe it.

The feelings I have when I look at those photos are entirely appropriate. The things that happened to me ARE sad. The problem comes when I look at photos of me at older ages, particularly when I'm about 14 and up. When I look at those photos I don't feel sad. At an intellectual level there's probably some sadness but mostly I am overwhelmed by the things I believed at the time - all the feelings of worthlessness and shame that were absolute truth to me then are truth to me now. I can't look at photos and think, "How sad that the happy little three year old grew up to become this fearful and unhappy teenager who believed she was worthless" because I'm too caught up in the belief that I was (and am) so worthless and ridiculous that I completely deserved everything my brother and others ever did or said to me. Not only can I not feel compassion, I don't want to believe that girl is me. I don't want anything to do with her; I don't even want to acknowledge her existence. I don't want that girl to be the building block of the woman I am today.

Whilst pondering all these things I came upon this poem...

Variation on the word sleep

Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping,

which may not happen.

I would like to watch you,

sleeping. I would like to sleep

with you, to enter

your sleep as its smooth dark wave

slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent

wavering forest of bluegreen leaves

with its watery sun & three moons

towards the cave where you must descend,

towards your worst fear.

I would like to give you the silver

branch, the small white flower, the one

word that will protect you

from the grief at the center

of your dream, from the grief

at the center. I would like to follow

you up the long stairway

again & become

the boat that would row you back

carefully, a flame

in two cupped hands

to where your body lies

beside me, and you enter

it as easily as breathing in.

I would like to be the air

that inhabits you for a moment

only. I would like to be that unnoticed

& that necessary.

This is essentially a love poem (and as a love poem I think it's wonderful) but I was also struck by the third stanza:

I would like to give you the silver

branch, the small white flower, the one

word that will protect you

from the grief at the center

of your dream, from the grief

at the center. I would like to follow

you up the long stairway

again & become

the boat that would row you back

carefully...

Part of me still doesn't want to know that young girl, but there's another part, a tiny part... if I could go back in time and meet that girl, I think I would want to protect her. Maybe that's not compassion, not yet, but it's something. It's a start.

It all makes sense now

2009-10-05T20:06:00.000+11:00

This morning:
Large hot chocolate and a raspberry/white chocolate muffin.

Lunchtime:
A bowl of hot chips with tomato sauce.

This afternoon:
Five 'fun size' Milky Way bars.

This evening:
My period started.

Ah. Mystery solved.
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A blubbering mess

2009-09-27T22:41:00.000+10:00

** Warning - if you haven't seen The Color Purple, don't watch the clip I've embedded in this post. It is the final scene and will totally wreck the movie for you. **

Last night I was doing some knitting and decided to put a DVD in to watch whilst doing it. I looked over my collection and thought, "Hmmm... I haven't seen The Color Purple in a while." It's a long movie so it seemed like a good choice, as it was only early evening at this point.

Okay, sure, I know it's an emotionally wrenching movie. I've seen it before several times and I always cry at various points of the film, but that's okay. I mean, I also still cry when I read Little Women and get to the scene where Beth dies but that doesn't affect my enjoyment of the experience.

So, I put the DVD in and settled down to watch. I teared up a little at the beginning. I was a trifle misty at several points during the film. I wiped away a stray tear when Celie finally got away from Mister. But when we got to this scene...

...I was a blubbering mess. Not just crying; I was sobbing so hard I had to turn up the volume because I was drowning out the movie.

It is a truly excellent film... but next time I say, "Hey, now there's a movie I haven't seen in a while..." please remind me to have a store of clean hankies nearby.
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What? Isn't this normal??

2009-09-23T15:13:00.000+10:00

Last night I attended the first night of a four week (one night per week) Anxiety Management Workshop. There were about 10 of us there and it was a friendly - albeit slightly anxious - little group. The idea of the sessions is to help us understand how anxiety works in the body, to recognise what can cause it to be a bit out of whack, and to learn strategies for getting it under better control. There were some interesting things last night, but one incident really made me laugh.

We were each doing an anxiety scale, where you rate your anxiety symptoms from 1 to 10. 1 is 'peaceful and calm' and 10 is your highest anxiety level, which is different for each person. So for me, level 10 would be things like chest pain, extremely elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, hyperventilation, light-headedness, inability to concentrate, shaking... thankfully I don't reach 10 very often! The idea of doing a scale is to help us recognise what's happening in our bodies BEFORE reaching level 10 (or 7 or 8 or 9) so that we can employ anxiety management techniques before it gets out of control. As we were all working on our individual lists someone asked, "What if your anxiety is up around level 8 all of the time?"

Let's pause for a second and imagine that question being asked in any other scenario. Surely it would be greeted with cries of alarm, concerned questions about why your anxiety level is that high, and assurances that it's most definitely NOT 'normal'. At the very least there would be a muffled gasp. But in this anxiety workshop... not a single person responded, and as I looked around the room I saw the same question on every face... "Hang on - isn't that normal??"

Okay, maybe you had to be there - or maybe you need my sick sense of humour - but I found it extremely funny...
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Just a whinge

2009-09-21T23:11:00.001+10:00

Yesterday at church I was approached by someone who doesn't normally speak with me. I don't mean he ignores me, it's just that I'm at a big church and there are many people I don't get to see, and that's fine. This particular person is someone with whom I've had contact in the past so I thought it was nice that he came up for a chat. After a few minutes of chit chat and asking me how I am etc he said, "By the way, we have [an event] coming up and I really need people to help with the set up and cleaning up after it. I don't want to ask anyone with a family because they are too busy so I thought you could help."

Okay, this drives me wild for two reasons. Firstly, I hate being treated like I don't exist until someone wants something. It's downright insulting. Secondly, I resent the implication that single people and/or people without children are always available to drop everything and help with every event that comes up. This is NOT to say that people with kids aren't busy; what makes me angry is the belief that the rest of us have no life and no commitments.

So here's a tip I'll give you for nothing - if you ONLY speak to me when you want something, and treat me like I'm invisible the rest of the time, it's very unlikely I'll be inclined to help you. Further, don't make assumptions about my social life and other commitments. Given that you haven't bothered to give me the time of day up until now there's a very good chance that you know exactly nothing about my life.
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A little bit of comfort

2009-09-20T21:22:00.002+10:00

My brother (the one who bullied and abused me) has recently moved back to my parents' house. This doesn't thrill me and I am not willing to stay with my parents while he is living there. However, since I've never discussed the abuse with my parents I can't explain why I don't want to stay there - and the excuse of 'no room' won't really work since my parents have a four bedroom house with only three people in it. Hmmm. Anyway, that's a discussion I've deftly avoided up to now and I'm not planning a trip back there for a while so I'm not worrying about it yet.

The problem with the 'don't worry about it yet' approach is that I'm apparently too good at it. I'm so good at it that I actually forgot my brother was living at my mum and dad's house... so imagine my shock when I was chatting with my mother on the phone yesterday and suddenly my brother's voice came on the line. Let me add some context here - I haven't seen my brother face-to-face for at least two years. I haven't heard his voice in that time either. What I have done in the last two years is talk about 20 years of abuse. I've had nightmares and flashbacks. I've had frightening anxiety attacks. I've experienced depression. I've struggled. Of course, my brother is not directly to blame for these things - and in fact seeking to lay blame anywhere is unhelpful - but he is certainly a massive factor in it all and I was not ready to hear his voice on the phone. (I should add that he wasn't speaking to me and didn't even know it was me on the phone; he just picked up the downstairs extension because he wanted to tell my mother something and couldn't be bothered walking upstairs.)

When I heard his voice I started shaking and experienced other symptoms of anxiety. I had a long bath and did a few anxiety-management techniques and eventually I was fine. I slept well last night and felt pretty good today so I assumed I was over the shock of hearing his voice. Well, until this afternoon....

I made choc-chip cookies...

...and then some gluten-free dark chocolate brownies...

...and then some Mars Bar slice.

Uh.... comfort cooking, anyone?

(I haven't actually eaten any of this and will give most of it away. No, really. I swear!)

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I have reached a certain age

2009-09-15T22:00:00.001+10:00

It's happened. I've reached an age where I looked at a particular product and thought, "Hmmm... there's a handy little item..."

The item? It was this:

Yep, I bought a "tv tray". Actually it's called the Table-Mate II. I have no idea how it differs from the Table-Mate I but I'm sure it's infinitely superior. I bought it so I can comfortably use my laptop whilst sitting on the lounge and it's great for that purpose. However... the pictures on the box are a little off-putting.

They all look a bit sad, don't they? One lonely little person, sitting there all alone on a HUGE lounge, eating a solitary meal or reading a book, using their handy tray table.

When I start eating TV dinners by the comforting blue glow of my television I'll know for sure that buying this table was the beginning of the end.
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Garden World

2009-09-12T18:34:00.001+10:00

Be still, my beating heart. Today I went to Garden World. Oh my.

Now that the vege garden is complete I decided I needed a few flowers. I went the cheap-arse option and bought "potted colour - 4 for $10!" - which means "we can't even be bothered telling you what these are called because they'll be dead in a couple of months anyway, but in the meantime... PRETTY!" I also bought a gardenia, which thrills me to my fingertips because nothing says Spring to me more than the smell of gardenia. Forget jasmine; it's gardenia all the way for me. I also bought a bromeliad for indoors - I'd never even heard of these before until I saw them in my counsellor's house, but I absolutely love some of them so I couldn't resist it. What attracted me to this one was the vivid green of the leaves, which of course doesn't come through in the photo properly. Hmph. And it has just occurred to me that there's every possibility my counsellor will now think I'm a crazy stalker who is trying to emulate her by buying a bromeliad... but I guess she's in the best position to assess my level of craziness at any time. (Yeah, but keep your doors locked... just in case...)

Garden World also had a large bonsai section. I don't know, I find bonsai a bit weird. It's like the plant version of teacup dogs... I get the feeling that if Paris Hilton were into plants she'd fill her house with bonsai because they're 'cute'.

Random funny stuff

2009-09-10T23:44:00.001+10:00

I usually don't just do a cut-and-paste from emails but this was so very funny... I laughed so loud at some of them I scared my cat. These are supposedly random thoughts from 20-35 year olds...

- More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

- Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realise you're wrong.

- Have you ever been walking down the street and realised that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

- Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

- There is a great need for sarcasm font.

- Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realise I had no idea what the f*** was going on when I first saw it.

- I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.

- I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

- LOL has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".

- I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

- Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

- I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!

- Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies".

- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

- Bad decisions make good stories.

- Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public, I feel like a kid on Christmas morning that just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!

- Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem …

- Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.

- There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

- I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

- "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.

- I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

- I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

- When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.

- Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

- I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

- Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, hitting the G-spot, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time...

- The other night I ordered take away and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic cutlery. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat b@$tard before dinner.
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The finished product

2009-09-09T18:07:00.003+10:00

Here is the vege garden with everything planted.

I know, it looks like I planted 13 tubs of straw but I assure you there are plants in there. Small and a bit sad-looking at the moment, but definitely there. If everything survives I'll have:

* English spinach
* Rhubarb
* Leek
* Dwarf broccoli
* Zucchini
* Kale
* Lettuce (iceberg and cos)
* Tomatoes (truss, cherry and roma)
* Corn
* Snow peas
* Strawberries - they're not in the photo, but they've actually survived from last year (much to my surprise as I haven't watered them or even looked at them in months) so hopefully they'll keep going and give me more fruit.

That list contains five things I've never grown before (rhubarb, leek, broccoli, zucchini, and corn), one thing I've never grown nor even tasted (kale) and one thing I killed last year (spinach) so this should be interesting! I wanted some apple cucumbers too but couldn't find them in Bunnings. I'll try a nursery on the weekend... although I'm not entirely sure where I'll put them anyway. I suppose I could always train them up the clothesline...

A no-dig vege garden in 9 easy steps

2009-09-07T22:58:00.001+10:00

Start with a large tub with drainage holes kindly drilled by a handy friend...

...add some wet newspaper...

...a good layer of cow manure...

...plenty of straw...

...some more manure...

...a bit more straw...

...and a good layer of compost.

Repeat three times...

...and add vegetable seedlings.

Voila!

In actual fact I underestimated how much room I'd need so I still have a number of vegetable seedlings that will need to go in smaller pots, but the majority are planted now and I'm feeling decidedly Mother Earth-ish and content...

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For those who pray...

2009-09-01T18:46:00.001+10:00

...and for those who don't...

I'm travelling a hard path in counselling. The fact that I'm ready to go down this path at all is great (in two years of counselling I've only touched on these things briefly a few times) and I know that ultimately it will be very helpful, but honestly... the process is excruciating.

Accepting prayers, good wishes and positive vibes.

Thanks.
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The (not red) couch is here!

2009-08-29T13:49:00.002+10:00

It's finally here and the very nice delivery boys from Fantastic Furniture also carried my old lounge suite out to my garage, for which I was extremely grateful (especially as they didn't charge me for it).

This sort of shows the colour although it was hard to get an accurate picture. It's a little darker in real life.

Here's the whole room (yes, you can indeed see two cat beds AND a cat tunnel...) The purple cushions won't necessarily be staying; they were just on the old couch.

And because I have a need for completion, here's the rest of the room... (yep, that's a scratching post... it's like kitty Disneyland around here).

What's that, I hear you ask? Could you get a closer look at that fantabulous wallpaper? Why, of course...

Yeah, outstanding, huh? The photo doesn't do it justice; it's awesome. Oh, the joys of renting. Actually it's not really that bad... or at least, it's grown on me and I'm no longer startled when I walk into my loungeroom. Fortunately it's the only room with wallpaper.

So, that's been my day. It's been 13 years since I bought a new lounge so I'm feeling very grown up. I'll feel even better once I get rid of the excess furniture... so let me know if you know anyone in Melbourne who would like a chair like this one... (the frame is ancient - I bought it when I was 18 - but the cushion is only a year old).

Quandary update

2009-08-24T22:01:00.000+10:00

So after my last post I received a helpful email from Lou, with a most interesting attachment. It was basically an innovative way of weighing up the pros and cons of a decision but rather than aiming to draw a conclusion it aims to help one reflect upon the process itself and identify insights and ideas/concerns that might need to be pursued.

Hmmm. I haven't explained it well but rest assured it was a helpful process for me. What it helped me identify is that the money issue, which I thought was primary, is really kind of secondary. A bigger issue for me, which came up strongly at several points in this analytical process, is that I actually don't particularly want to leave the house to exercise. There have been lots of times when I wanted to exercise for half an hour or so, but the fact that going to the gym adds another half hour to the whole process has put me off. In winter it's been worse because it means leaving a nice, warm house.

Well... it seems my decision is made. I will cancel the gym membership and buy a treadmill. I'd love an elliptical cross-trainer but I think a treadmill is a more versatile option, particularly as I have been thinking about doing C25K (check it out here) but have been too self-conscious to try to run in public. It's also great timing financially because I'm not paying for counselling for the next few weeks - I'm doing some editing work for my counsellor and have traded it for free sessions (rather than a weird dance of paying her for counselling and have her hand the money right back as payment for editing). So after my lounge arrives - hopefully within the next three weeks - I'll start looking around for a treadmill. Once it arrives I'll blog about it and then you have permission to ask me if I'm using it!
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A quandary

2009-08-23T15:09:00.000+10:00

Okay, I'm in a bit of a quandary at the moment. Here's the situation... I joined the gym a bit over a year ago, when I was just starting to come out of a period of depression. It was great timing because I was starting to feel better and adding the exercise helped a lot with that. However, for the last four months (at least) I've barely been to the gym at all and frankly I'm not particularly motivated to go... and this means I'm paying $78 per month to avoid the gym. Hmmm.

So I'm trying to weigh up my options. I have considered cancelling my membership and buying a treadmill instead. The advantages to this are:

* I don't have to leave my house.
* Once I've paid for the treadmill I won't incur any ongoing costs.
* If I do concede defeat eventually (not that this would happen... ahem...) I can sell the treadmill.
* I can put the $78 per month onto my credit card debt.

These are all good reasons to go with the treadmill plan. The reasons I'm hesitating are:

* I'll still need to be more motivated than I am currently - there's a danger the treadmill may just end up being an expensive clothes airer.
* I fear that once I give up my gym membership I'll instantly regret it and suddenly develop motivation to go... kind of a reverse buyer's remorse.
* At the gym I have a variety of exercise options; with the treadmill I'll only have one.

Sigh. The advantages are quite convincing but... oh, I don't know... I think I just want to be 100% convinced. Of course if I approached my whole life that way I'd never get out of bed.

Yeah. I'm not one of life's real risk-takers. Does it show??.
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Today

2009-08-22T19:59:00.000+10:00

Two loads of washing.
Dyed my hair (and missed a spot... damn it...)
Two chicken pies.
One tuna casserole.
Two loaves of banana bread.
One batch of roast pumpkin and feta risotto.
One batch of bolognese sauce.
Knitting.
Part of an editing job.
Facebook.
Playing with cat.

Oh yeah.
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Starbucks church

2009-08-20T15:54:00.001+10:00

This is hilarious... I only wish it weren't familiar!

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Ripped-off joke #9

2009-08-18T21:59:00.000+10:00

Two tourists were driving through Wales.

At Llanhyfryddawellehynafolybaarcudprindanfygy, they stopped for lunch and asked the waitress "before we order, can you please settle an argument for us and pronounce where we are very slowly?"

The waitress leans over and says "burrr - gerrr - king"

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"He's a faithful guy..." (an SMS exchange)

2009-08-14T21:45:00.001+10:00

You know how sometimes people say really simple things but it's just what you need to hear?

Me: "I'm a bit over the counselling thing this week. When does it get easier? I've had 2 years non-stop of 'hard'..."

My friend: "It will get easier, it has to, but before you get to the good parts you have to go through the mire. Maybe. I'm no expert. But I know God and he's a faithful guy. He'll look after you."

Yep.
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Bliss

2009-08-11T22:03:00.006+10:00

Is there anything better on a cold night than a shower so hot that after a while you idly wonder if that feeling in your shoulders is actually your skin starting to blister? Okay, there are probably many things better than that but right now I can't think of any. Ahhhhhh..... felt so good....

And conversely...

Is there anything worse than dragging yourself out of bed on your day off - after a rather late night and when it's cold and rainy - to go to a counselling session only to find that your counsellor forgot to tell you that she needed to cancel today's session because she was out at a seminar? I drove up and thought, "No cars in the driveway. That's odd. Maybe her car is in for repairs... oh look, the blinds in the house are shut... and all the lights are off... hmmm..." I rang the doorbell in vain; there was no one home. A few text messages later and the mix-up was revealed - and my counsellor rang this afternoon to apologise 200 or so times and ask if I wanted to reschedule, so it's all good.

I wasn't upset and thought it was kind of funny but I still think I should be able to get some great mileage out of it with my counsellor. Mileage, and maybe chocolate. My appointment was changed to tomorrow night, so that gives me all day tomorrow to build a great story about how abandoned I felt and how much this has hindered the healing process. Ooh, and I'll mention trust; that's sure to be worth a Freddo or two.

Awesome. Off I go to Google "how to cry on cue"...

Edit: My lovely, generous counsellor - who, coincidentally, might just be reading this... because I might have promised I would clear her name after slandering her on my blog :-) - gave me a giant-sized Caramello Koala tonight. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I emailled her and just "happened" to mention that I like Caramellos.

So, to a certain sometimes forgetful but otherwise great counsellor - I don't use names on this blog but you know who you are :

THANK YOU!

How will they remember me?

2009-08-05T15:24:00.003+10:00

A couple of weeks ago a friend's wife died of breast cancer. I didn't attend her funeral but her husband posted on their blog the eulogy he delivered at the funeral. For privacy reasons I won't link to it, but let me assure you it was a great eulogy. The word 'eulogy' is derived from two ancient Greek words meaning "good words" and this eulogy was exactly that. It was warm and funny and sad and joyful all at the same time. Obviously a eulogy can only go for so long so you are forced to choose which memories to share and which character traits to highlight in honouring the person you loved. This has led me to wonder what things people would say if they had to choose a few things that sum up who I have been... and I wonder if these are the same things that I would choose?

I feel quite sure that someone would mention my fanaticism about correct grammar and punctuation. I would like them to talk about my faith in Jesus and my love for God and his people. Apart from those things, what is it that people notice? What is it that defines me?

Much of my life and energy at the moment is directed towards healing from abuse and trauma; and a large part of the process is about learning who I am. I endured many years of harmful words and actions that are part of the reason I have developed a view of myself that is both unhealthy and inaccurate. I know there is a "real me" and I get glimpses of her sometimes but for a lot of the time I am influenced by fear, doubt and confusion.

It won't always be this way, but for right now I think it would be fair to say that other people know me better than I know myself. Other people see things in me that I simply don't see, even when the evidence is right in front of me. The truth is there but my view of it is sketchy at best, and even when I see the truth I often don't believe it.

If it weren't for the fact that it's a bit macabre I would ask a few good friends to write my eulogy for me now, while I'm still alive. It's not a vanity exercise; I really want to know what it is that other people see - what is THEIR truth and how does it differ from MY truth? Actually I don't believe that truth is relative, so perhaps I should ask what is their perception and how does it differ from mine? And of the two, which one is the truth?

Hmmmm. It would be an interesting exercise.

Six fluffy months

2009-08-01T20:01:00.003+10:00

I was going to start this post by apologising that I'm writing about Sophie again, or by pointing out that if I had kids I'd probably post far more photos than this so really this is not so bad, or perhaps with a self-deprecating comment about being a Crazy Cat Lady... these things are probably true, but you know what? I just love my cat and I'm not going to apologise for it. I love her company; I love waking up in the morning and having cuddle time with a sleepy cat; I love laughing at her clumsiness as she falls off her scratching post; I love coming home to a little pocket rocket who shows her excitement at my arrival by running the IndyCat 5000 around the dining room and up and down the hallway... and I love taking photos of her.

So... today Sophie is six months old and in honour of her half-birthday I offer the following photographic timeline. I've posted many of these before so feel free to let your eyes glaze over.

This photo was taken by her breeder when she (Sophie) was 7 weeks old.

This is Sophie on her first day here (nearly 10 weeks) stretched out on the arm of the chair. She's actually lying on a handtowel there, not a towel. She's way too big to do that now!

I have come to learn that Sophie is an extremely curious cat who will come running towards any open door (front door... toilet... Tupperware cupboard... whatever), will climb in anywhere she can fit and will stick her face in everything.

Today, at six months, she's a lot bigger...

...but every bit as curious.

Yeah... I'm a Crazy Cat Lady, but I'm okay with it. :)
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Well that didn't take long...

2009-07-31T15:20:00.002+10:00

I admit it; I'm unfaithful. Instead of grieving my red couch for a respectable time I went right out today and bought a new couch. I'm worse than Scarlett O'Hara dancing at that ball when she was supposed to be mourning her husband. Except that Scarlett never really loved Charles Hamilton whereas I really loved the red couch. I went to visit it at Ikea and everything.

Aaaaanyway.... as I mentioned in my previous post, after discovering the red couch was no longer available I went to various big-name furniture stores and discovered that couches are EXPENSIVE. Wow, I had no idea that Ikea is really much cheaper than many places. I went home discouraged by the knowledge that it would take me at least another year to save for two couches. Oh my, how depressing. And then last night, I remembered Fantastic Furniture. I had hesitated initially because they have a lot of medium-quality furniture, a depressing amount of low-quality furniture and a few quite-good-quality items. Their wooden furniture (coffee tables, tallboys etc) is actually pretty good, as are their bed frames but I wouldn't buy a mattress from them and I was unsure about couches. When you buy a $300 couch it's not usually an item you'll be handing down to your kids, you know what I mean? Nevertheless, I took a trip out to Fantastic Furniture today and sat on every single couch in the place. Let's not mince words - many of them were rubbish. Ugly, cheap looking, uncomfortable and feeling like they will be broken in six months. Others were very sturdy and well-made but not in my price range or simply not what I wanted. Eventually I settled on the couch pictured below - let me stress that I did NOT buy it in that hideous colour.

The couch pictured is a two-seater. I bought a three-seater and a three-seater sofa bed. Essentially the same as pictured but a bit wider. The fabric I chose is a rough looking fabric kind of like corduroy but the lines aren't as smooth and ordered as cord. Hmmm... it has just occurred to me that it might make a perfect kitty scratching post. Oh dear. The colour is called 'fudge' but it doesn't look like any fudge I've ever eaten. It's a fawny/tan colour... darker than cream but not yellowy, and lighter than brown. All up, including delivery, it was roughly $1750, which is a tad more than I had available to spend, but... la la la... not listening.

When it arrives - in four to six weeks - I'll take a photo of the real thing and post it.
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The death of the red couch

2009-07-30T19:00:00.000+10:00

Almost a year ago now I joined the gym and (unrelated to the gym) fell in love with a red corduroy couch at Ikea - I blogged about these things at the time. It's taken me a while to get my act together and start saving but in the last couple of months I've made a real effort and I estimate that I'm only three or four months away from being able to afford the couch at last. I decided to encourage myself to continue by going on to the Ikea website and having a look at my couch. The website had a number of problems and wouldn't show me pictures but a few days later it was fine. Oh look, there's my couch. Blue, cream, striped, pink... wait, where's the red one? Maybe it's a problem with the website again... I'll just email the store.

The red couch has been discontinued. MY red couch has been discontinued!!

I'm SO SAD.

Okay, I'm sad, but I rallied. I thought, "I'll just take this as an excuse to go couch shopping at a few other stores. Yeah, it will be fun. Shopping!" I did that today. It wasn't fun. Apparently, Ikea charges a LOT less for couches than most other stores. I can't even afford to buy ONE 2.5 seater couch, let alone the two I had planned to get from Ikea. It was extremely depressing. Now I'm in a quandry about whether to keep saving for a couch or to put my savings towards my $3,500 credit card debt. Yes, I know, I should get rid of my debt first. The problem is that it's going to take me a long time to be able to pay it off - although I have a plan and I'm reducing it slowly - and I was just finding it depressing never to buy any nice things for myself. My whole life became about bills and debt reduction and it made me cranky and discouraged, so I decided to slightly reduce my credit card payments and redirect some of that towards my savings. It felt so good to be saving for something fun. Sigh. I want my red couch!
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It's a conundrum, alright

2009-07-28T21:30:00.002+10:00

One of the consequences of having someone spend 15 years trying their very hardest to make me feel worthless, ridiculous and pointless is that most of the time I feel worthless, ridiculous and pointless. Sadly, logic often doesn't come into it. For example, my academic transcript at uni has only Distinctions and High Distinctions, which means I didn't get below 80% for a single subject for three years. Logic would suggest, therefore, that I'm reasonably intelligent. Despite this, most of the time I believe I'm stupid and for my entire degree I made excuses for my successes - "It's just a first year subject and they mark them easier", "I agreed with the lecturer so of course I got a good mark" and so on.

Trying to change long-ingrained beliefs is very difficult and knowing that those beliefs aren't true doesn't stop me believing that they are absolutely true. I said to my counsellor today, "I know that it's totally wrong to believe I'm stupid and worthless. At the same time I am 100% convinced that I'm completely stupid and worthless." So... I know it's a lie and I also know it's true. Yeah, blows your mind a little bit, huh?

Right now I'm feeling very optimistic and hopeful about counselling. I feel more hopeful than I have in ages, actually, and that's a great thing. At the same time, though, there is a BIG part of me that is convinced there is no point trying to change because I really am worthless, and I will never feel any different. Feeling and believing both of these things simultaneously is a little bit weird and very hard to explain and understand. However, I figure that feeling worthless AND hopeful is a whole lot better than just feeling worthless with no hope at all, so I'm taking this conundrum as a win.
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The Geek Inside

2009-07-26T18:19:00.003+10:00

Today I took myself out for a coffee after church and sat reading The Body Remembers, the book I mentioned in a previous post. It's a book written for therapists and it's rather technical and detailed in parts so I was concentrating quite hard whilst reading it. Here's how my thoughts ran today:

"Hmmm... well that's interesting... yes, I can see that.... gosh, I hadn't realised that before... oh dear, I don't think I would have used a semi-colon there... yes, this part definitely relates to me..."

That's right. In the middle of reading something that's helping me to learn what's going on in the deepest parts of me I still managed to notice a questionable semi-colon.

Yep. Not sure whether to laugh or cry now...
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A barrel... with legs

2009-07-25T17:01:00.004+10:00

Yep, sorry, a little more Crazy-Cat-Ladyness. I can't help myself. Sophie is just about to turn 6 months old and wow, she has grown in the last four months. She weighed 900g when I brought her home at 10 weeks and she's now heading towards 3kg. (No, I'm not completely obsessed - I had to weigh her to work out which worming treatment to give her.) She is typical of the breed in that she is short and very stocky, just like a little barrel with legs. The great thing about those short legs is that she is still waaaaay too small to jump on the kitchen bench. Graceful, skinny cats could do it with barely any effort, even cats much younger, but ~~Boofhead~~ Sophie just jumps and jumps and barely makes it halfway up the cupboard door. As you can tell I'm just devastated about that...

And to prove that she doesn't sleep ALL the time... She's not really that dark but it was night time with dim lighting in my bathroom. And I have no idea what that little nod is at the 00.42 mark. It looks like she was waiting for a cue from offstage.

What shall I do today?

2009-07-25T10:01:00.001+10:00

I have a confession... I'm a sucker for stationery. (Shut up - it's NOT an addiction! I can stop any time I want!) Ahem. Anyway, yesterday I spent the day catching up with a friend who was visiting from Sydney. It was a great day; she's a very dear friend and I haven't seen her in a long time. So, we did what any long-time friends would do... we shopped! I was, of course, unable to go past one of my favourite stores, Kikki.K. Oh, it's a treasure trove of things that I'm sure I need. No, really. It's like Ikea but with only stationery. God bless the Swedes.

Do I sound more organised as I'm typing this? I should - here's what I bought:

It's a bit hard to see, but it's a weekly planner 60-page notepad with 'to do' and 'to buy' sections on the side, plus a section to jot things down for next week. And then, still not feeling quite organised enough, I bought this:

It's a meal planner, which is great for me because although I'm not feeding anyone else and therefore could in theory just do whatever I like, I like to plan my meals in advance because it helps me budget and it stops me grazing on chips while I'm trying to decide what to eat.

Because I am both a stationery nerd and an organisation junkie, I am delighted with these purchases. I've even crossed two things off today's list. Clean litter tray - tick. Go to gym - tick. (Write blog post about my geekiness - tick...)
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Roller coaster

2009-07-22T19:35:00.005+10:00

Do you ever have a day or two where so many different things happen, and they're so intensely emotional - but all different emotions - that you hardly know whether you're coming or going? Let me fill you in on the ups and downs of my personal little emotional roller coaster this week.

Friday - UP
I chatted with my counsellor and agreed that it was time to get back into some issues that had been put on hold for me whilst I was dealing with some stuff at work. This included some journal entries that I'd sent but we hadn't talked about yet. I was keen to dive into it all again and looked forward to my session on Tuesday.

Sunday - UP
I returned to church after a three month absence (long story but I wasn't in a good place and needed a break). It was great to be back.

Monday - DOWN
I have been reading a book called The Body Remembers by Babette Rothschild. Although written for therapists, and thus highly technical, it's been very helpful. On Monday I started reading the chapter on flashbacks... and almost instantly had a massive anxiety attack as I remembered some flashbacks I had had more than a year ago. It was like a flashback of a flashback, which I didn't even know was possible. It is, and it freaked me out.

Tuesday - DOWN
My counselling session was first thing in the morning and I talked about my reaction the day before. In order to explain why a 'flashback of a flashback' is indeed possible my counsellor started to tell me a story about someone becoming anxious about being anxious. The more she said the word 'anxious' the more MY anxiety level increased, until I had to ask her to stop because I thought I was going to pass out. Yeah, it was intense. After a break and some breathing exercises I felt a bit calmer and we agreed to put this aside for the moment and talk about something more innocuous and less stressful. That helped but I remained shaken by the experience for the whole day.

Tuesday - UP
After my session in the morning I met with my prayer triplet. It was both comforting and refreshing.

Tuesday - UP
I went for a two hour walk in an effort to reduce my adrenaline levels which were still high after my episode of anxiety in the morning. It was good and helped to stop some of my anxiety symptoms.

Tuesday night - DOWN
I received the news that my friend's wife had died that morning, after being diagnosed with breast cancer ten months ago. She was 40; and leaves behind her husband and two young boys.

Tuesday night - UP
After a day of suffering the effects of the morning's anxiety and feeling increasingly afraid of going back to counselling next week and having the same thing happen, I finally reached the point where I decided enough is enough. I reached for my journal and wrote the following:

After writing that I felt a lot better and far more in control. I think something vital has just clicked in my brain...

Wednesday - UP
Givinya's baby was born!

So it's been an interesting few days. Up and down and round in circles.... I'm feeling a little tired now, to be honest! Here's hoping the rest of the week is boring and dull...
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Wait, I agreed to what??

2009-07-21T22:42:00.002+10:00

Every second Tuesday I meet with two friends to chat about our lives and pray together. It's a special time and it's been good to share the ups and downs and keep up with each other beyond, "How are you? Good? Good."

We've been meeting together since the beginning of March and in that time we've all been through various hard things as well as some celebrations. One thing we've each said consistently is that we really need to exercise more. There are various reasons for this... we all need to lose a bit of weight to be in our healthy weight range and we also each have health and/or emotional issues that could be helped by exercise. In my case, a number of factors have contributed to a significant increase in anxiety attacks in recent months. The good news (which is also the bad news) is that regular exercise is one thing that can help because it helps to burn off the large amounts of adrenaline that are produced during anxiety. It does make a real difference - I know this, and my counsellor has reiterated it a number of times. Knowing it, however, hasn't motivated me to exercise.

So today as we, in our prayer triplet, each said again that we "really should do some exercise" we decided it was time to stop talking and start doing. We have each committed to an exercise plan for the next fortnight and we're going to report back when we meet again in two weeks. My particular plan looks like this:

* Do a workout at the gym three times per week; and
* Walk to my counselling session next week and the week after instead of driving.

It looks pretty easy, right? The problem is, I haven't been near the gym in about four months and I'm not sure I can even make it up the stairs to the lockers, let alone manage a workout. And the nice little stroll to my counsellor's house for my session? Walking at a reasonable pace (faster than a stroll but not a power walk) it's going to take me roughly 70 minutes. Each way.

Yeah. What was I thinking??
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Meep Meep!

2009-07-19T17:21:00.000+10:00

Perhaps I spend too much time on You Tube. Anyway, I loved this...

Just litter, kids. It's safer.

2009-07-16T22:41:00.002+10:00

About three weeks ago a ~~self-entitled, rich cow~~ woman who occasionally parks in my work car park backed into my car and totally crumpled my right front fender. She ~~had the hide to look down from her BMW at my little Corolla and ask, "Which bit did I do?"~~ was at fault so her insurance covered it, but it's still been horribly inconvenient to be without a car for nine days, not to mention expensive to travel on public transport (yes, even with current petrol prices). Needless to say I was delighted today to hear that my car was finally ready to be picked up. I had to use my insurer's repairer, which is in Port Melbourne. Tricky in peak hour but hey... getting my car back!

Picking up my car required leaving work early, dashing down to the station to get a train into the city, pounding up the road to the bus stop only to find I'd missed the connecting bus and had to wait 25 minutes, a 9 minute bus ride after the 25 minute wait, and then a 5 minute walk down the road to the repairer. All up, one and a half hours. It was all going fairly well and by the time I got to the bus ride part I was congratulating myself on the fact that I'd make it to the repairer 10 minutes before closing time... AND on the fact that I'd found the right bus and knew where to disembark, being in an area unfamiliar to me. A few minutes later I saw my stop approaching and pressed the "please, Mr Bus Driver, let me off at the next stop" button. So far, so good. Mr Bus Driver, however, having only two passengers on board and a good run on the road, had been in The Zone and travelling a leetle too fast, so he hit the brakes with rather more force than usual. This caused my bag, which was on the floor, to tip over, whereupon my apple fell out and skidded to the front of the bus. The bus doors opened... that is, one of the bus doors opened. The other door stuck because there was an apple jammed under it.

I'm pretty civic minded. I don't litter; when I have gum I throw it in the bin; I sort my recycling; I give up my bus seat to those who look like they need it more than me. So, naturally, although I now had no intention of eating that apple I bent down to pull it out from under the partially opened door. Just as I did that the door became unstuck on its own and smacked me in the head. HARD. Really hard - there was an audible 'thwack'.

I staggered off the bus (leaving the apple behind) and proceeded towards my destination, mindful that I had only ten minutes to get to the repairer. Two minutes down the road I thought, "Boy, my head hurts." Yeah, well that would be because I'm now sporting a large red-and-purple lump at my hairline. Owwww. And of course ten minutes later I was stuck in peak hour with a throbbing head and a growing realisation that I might actually have concussion. I wouldn't say I'm one to panic, but I did spend part of the trip home reminding myself of the day, the date, the current Prime Minister, and how to count backwards from 100 by sevens. Also checked my pupils when I got home (contracting and dilating nicely, thank you). I was fine.

Next time, though, I'll leave the darn apple right where it lands.
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Well THIS looked like a fun game.

2009-07-08T07:06:00.000+10:00

I left the zipper on my knitting bag open just a tiny bit - before going out for an hour...

Cloudy, but clearing

2009-07-05T00:17:00.001+10:00

Firstly, thank you to those who commented on my last post or contacted me via email. Your care, support and prayers mean so much to me and you help more than you know.

I'm still not feeling quite up to my usual self. I think this has been building up for a little while now and this week it all rose up like a wave and dumped me on the sand. Apparently, this is called a STUG - a Sudden, Temporary Upsurge of Grief. (Where would we be without handy acronyms?) Good name, since that's exactly how it felt... and I'm always strangely comforted to hear that what I'm experiencing is normal and textbook. This is the kind of situation where I want to be boring and run of the mill.

It's been a strange week. If I'd had my way I think I would have stayed in bed all week and licked my wounds but of course I had to go to work. My emotions have been all over the place - one night I came home and cried because my letter box only had junk mail in it, another night I was almost beside myself with rage because a salesperson rang trying to get me to change electricity providers, and another night I happily did some painting and watched TV and felt pretty good for a few hours. Underneath it all, though, I've been feeling sad and overwhelmed. Not in despair but definitely struggling and unable to see a way out. My long-suffering counsellor, who deserves far more money than I can afford to pay her, has been patiently answering my emails all week, which have all been a variation on the same theme - "Tell me that this won't last forever. Tell me that healing is possible. Tell me this is okay. Tell me that I can do it. And now tell me again, please." So she told me and told me and told me again, every time I asked the exact same thing. The answer didn't change - "yes, healing will come" - but sometimes I just need to keep hearing it, and I'm trying so hard to believe it.

And now... I'm beginning to emerge from the wave. I'm struggling and I'm not free of it yet but it will come. And so will healing.
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Obscured horizon

2009-07-01T11:12:00.001+10:00

I had a subdued counselling session yesterday. It mostly consisted of me saying, "I've been doing this for nearly two years, I don't think I'm getting anywhere, I can't see any progress and by the way this whole thing really sucks." My counsellor pointed out that I spent nearly a year with another counsellor who wasn't helpful to me, reminded me of progress I have made and agreed, "Yes, this does indeed totally suck."

I'm feeling tired and discouraged right now, to the point where I really can't see any progress even though I know it's there. All I can see are the negatives and the fears and the steps backward and the falls. I know they are not the whole picture but they loom so large on my horizon sometimes that they obscure everything else.

Yesterday I talked about how long this seems to be taking. I have had friends who were in bad places and had counselling for a while, but never for this long. My counsellor said something like, "The kind of thing you're dealing with isn't something that takes weeks or months; it can take years. You have had a lifetime of programming and it goes very deep; it will take a long time to work through it." Well. Okay. Of course I knew this - I've said it myself plenty of times - but I didn't want to hear it yesterday. Not years. I don't know why it should have made a difference... come the end of August I will have been in counselling for two years anyway and frankly I can't see myself feeling 100% fine in the next 12 months so I already know this is a slow process and will take (has taken) years. But still, there's something about hearing it that makes it real. Years. One year... two years... three years... and then??

I know there's not a quick fix. I'm not sure I'd want one, really, because I feel sure it wouldn't be a fix at all but merely a bandaid that will fall off later and leave me in a worse place than I'm in now. I'm not looking for the magic solution. I guess I'm just writing this to have a little moan. This is hard. It's slow. I can think of 500 other things I would rather do. I'm a bit overwhelmed by it all and I can't see any progress... my little flame of hope is more like a smouldering ember that's filling the room with smoke and choking me.

I'm trying to think of a hopeful note on which to end this post... something like, "I'm down but not out" or "I am discouraged but I know it will all be worth it". Even if those things are true, I don't feel them today. I'm discouraged. I am overwhelmed. I can't see the positives. And today, that is all.
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Dear Givinya...

2009-06-30T15:50:00.004+10:00

...are you calling me a liar?? Kidding! See? Smiley face! :) But because you wanted proof...

Firstly, to show that it's just a normal fridge/freezer:

And here's the inside:

Same, but with things moved around to show the containers:

Remember, when I say I have three serves of soup, I'm talking about three serves for one person, for one meal. I could eat out of my freezer for a month. You (and your family) could only eat out of it for a week.

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The Great Freezer Challenge Part 2

2009-06-29T22:32:00.001+10:00

Okay, I've just done a freezer inventory and I am never NEVER again allowed to complain that I have no food. NEVER. Here's what I found:

Pre-cooked meals:
Macaroni with bacon & spinach
Burrito meat x 3
Beef and lentils
Vege/lentil soup x 4
Curried sweet potato and carrot soup x 2
Pumpkin soup
Beef and rice
Pasta with red sauce
Spaghetti sauce/mince x 2

Meat:
Crumbed cutlets x 8
Sausages x 4
Steak
Crumbed fish x 6

Veges:
Mixed frozen veges (individual serves) x 3
Peas/corn/carrots x 1 bag
Frozen roast potatoes and hash browns x 1 bag each (I'm pretty sure those particular purchases were hormonally driven!)

Other:
Loaf of bread
Puff pastry
Crumpets
1/4 of an apple cake (YAY! That was a nice surprise.)
3 bananas (for banana bread)

Cat food:
Chicken necks x 3
Minced chicken frame x 4 serves

I'm ashamed to say I had no idea most of this was even there. And we're not talking about a chest freezer here - this is just the top bit of my fridge. Forget the fortnight... I think I could do the Freezer Challenge for the next month and not even have to cook anything at all for the first three weeks.

Hmmm... what to have for dinner tomorrow?
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The Great Freezer Challenge

2009-06-27T15:47:00.000+10:00

This morning I tried to put a loaf of bread in my freezer. I couldn't do it because the freezer is full. I'm surprised it's full because it seems I'm always buying groceries and I never seem to know what to eat or cook for dinner - and yet here I am, with a freezer full of pre-cooked (by me) meals as well as meat and frozen fish. There are even some frozen veges for when I'm feeling lazy (which is often). How it this possible when I keep saying I need to go shopping because I don't have any food in the house?

This discovery of food in my freezer happily coincides with my decision to get super-tough with my budget. I write budgets. I write them a lot. They are detailed and reasonable and will help me to pay off my debts some time before I die. I write them but I tend not to follow them. I don't know about anyone else but I'm finding that this method isn't really working for me on the debt-reduction front.

So, with these two things in mind, here's my challenge. I'm going to spend the next fortnight eating ONLY things that are already in my house - for every meal, not just dinner. I have a full freezer, a full pantry and a semi-bare fridge, although there are carrots, cheese, pumpkin, eggs (but only two so this may be a problem) and even some cream cheese. I remember buying the cream cheese a week ago but I can't remember what I was going to make with it. Hopefully I'll remember - or come up with another idea - before it turns green...

I love a challenge and I'm quite looking forward to this one. To be honest I could probably go for longer than a fortnight but I would like to eat fresh fruit again at some point (I ate the last two pieces this morning) so I'll stick with two weeks and see how it goes. My only concession to this is that I will need to buy cat food some time during the next fortnight. I haven't tried her on it but I'm pretty certain that Sophie won't eat Weet-Bix when the kitty food runs out.

Wish me luck! (Anyone care to join me??)
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Cake-a-palooza

2009-06-25T23:10:00.001+10:00

You know how some people spend hours painstakingly creating amazing birthday cakes where every detail is perfect and it looks so wonderful you don't want to eat it? People who make cakes like these ones?

Nice, huh? As it turns out, I am not one of those people. I don't have the patience to make cakes look that amazing. I tend to leave them on the tray on which I made them; I leave marks where I wiped things off; everything is a tad lopsided ; there are drips and spills and occasionally there are fingerprints; and often I don't make the right type of icing so the cake looks just a little bit wrong. My cakes look like they were decorated by hand whilst wearing mittens.

However, the cakes I make are greeted with cries of delight by the people for whom they are made, because they know that their cakes would be equally drippy, lopsided and careless. My cakes are greeted with joy because the cakes are made with love... and let's face it, chocolate cake is chocolate cake and my mouth doesn't know the difference.

So, here are the cakes I made for home group tonight to celebrate three birthdays. The first is a cat, in honour of one friend who recently bought a kitten. She and her husband are the most over-protective cat owners I've ever met (their cat is drinking filtered water) but it's only because they love him.

The next cake was for two people, both of whom are musicians. Here's the stroke of genius - the music on the piano is actually part of one of my friend's songs. She is fairly well known in Christian circles and her songs are sung in many churches so it was easy to find her music online. I thought that was a cute touch on the cake.

A-Z of hideous murders

2009-06-23T22:37:00.004+10:00

Lately I've been having some issues with a particular person. It's not really appropriate to say more here, but I'll just say that it's been causing me a fair amount of anxiety, as well as sleeplessness. I caught up with some friends today and talked about many things. One friend mentioned a technique she uses when anxiety doesn't allow her to sleep - she picks a subject (say, fruit/veges) and tries to find an example for every letter of the alphabet.

Apple
Banana
Corn
D... ummm... well, you get the idea.

This seemed reasonable. I thought about it for a bit, then said, "That's good, but instead of fruit I think I might imagine 26 different ways to kill the person with whom I have the problem..." Much hilarity ensued as we tried to come up with imaginative methods of murder. It was fun and great stress relief.

Feel free to add your own ideas in the comments section.

Arsenic
Bludgeoning
Crushed by a boulder
Drowning
Elephant stampede
Fire
Gas leak
Hydrochloric acid
Igloo collapse (in case this person tries to hide out in Antarctica)
Javelin
Impaled on a Kite
Lion attack
Drowning in chocolate Mousse (well, any flavour would do)
Nail gun
Orbital sander
Paintball attack gone horribly wrong
Choking to death on Quail
Thrown into the Rapids of a River (ooh, double points)
Stabbing
Hit by a falling Tree
Umbrella
Pushed into a Vegan restaurant with steak strapped to their body
Thrown over a Waterfall
Multiple X-rays without the lead apron (well, sure, this one would take a while)
Yachting accident
Some terrible incident involving a Zipper. Or a Zebra. I'm flexible.

Disclaimer: I do NOT, under any circumstances, condone murder... nor throwing people to the mercy of angry vegans, for that matter.
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Sound of Music stunt

2009-06-18T10:37:00.003+10:00

Oh my. I think this is the most wonderful thing I've ever seen. It was apparently a stunt to advertise a new show - they hadn't yet cast the part of Maria. 200 dancers and only two rehearsals.

Blergh

2009-06-17T09:46:00.001+10:00

I'm at home today and in bed with a cold. I probably don't need to be in bed, I suppose, but I have to sit somewhere and this is as good a place as any - it's warm and comfortable and there's room for a purring kitten beside me. I have one of those hacking dry coughs that renders me speechless, and somewhat breathless, for several minutes every time I try to talk or move around too much. If I stay in bed and don't speak I'm mostly fine, although I still have a nice blocked-sinus-induced earache going on, not to mention a snuffly nose which is probably causing some horrendous snoring. On the whole, though, I'm fine and enjoying resting in my warm bed... but I have to tell you that I may completely crack it if one more person asks me if I have swine flu!

(Although now that I think about it... I have had bacon twice this week...)
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Bits and pieces

2009-06-12T12:07:00.000+10:00

Various things that have passed across my mind and horizon this week...

* Ducted heating is possibly the most wonderful thing ever invented. It's been COLD here. If I had a job where I could work from home I don't think I would have left my bed all week. There was at least one night where I got into bed with a book, stuck my feet under my hot water bottle (with its fleecy cover), picked up my cup of tea and sighed happily... aaaahhhh. Wow - who knew I would turn into a little old lady so early?

* Last night I cooked risotto for my home group (Bible study group). It was very delicious... but possibly less so after I threw in a large handful of shaved parmesan and then realised it was green. Euww! Thankfully the risotto was about porridge consistency so it was easy to scrape a layer off the top and remove it.

* I've been watching Elizabeth I with Helen Mirren. She is sublime. Enough said. I've also been re-watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Really, could they have found someone who looks less like a hobbit than Elijah Wood? He's far too pretty to be a hobbit.

* My new (temporary) boss is lovely but doesn't know the meaning of the phrase 'personal space'. Unfortunately I hate having my personal space invaded without invitation, which means we do this little dance where my boss comes to speak with me, I back off because he's standing too close, he comes closer because I've moved away, I back off again, he comes closer, etc etc. I suppose it's good exercise, if nothing else.

* Yesterday my cat took her toilet fetish one step further and stood on the unopened packet of toilet paper in order to stick her head and paws right inside the bowl. As I watched her leaning in with her head directly under the bit where the water is released into the bowl I have to confess it took all my willpower not to press the flush button. (I promise that if I do succumb to the temptation I shall wait until I have my camera handy...)

* The new Star Trek film was immensely satisfying, but I realised the extent of my geekness when the camera panned across the prow of the Enterprise and I smiled in delight to see 'NCC-1701'. Hmmm... yeah. Geeks ahoy.

* Shopping, shopping, shopping... this week I bought three pairs of jeans for $75. Total, not each. Fabulous. I'm also going to a favourite wool shop on Saturday and then to Ikea on Tuesday. Be still, my beating heart.

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Mars Bar Slice

2009-06-10T19:13:00.001+10:00

Okay, eating six pieces in a row may have been a mistake... and so my loyal readers can make themselves sick too, here's the recipe:

Ingredients

3 cups Rice Bubbles (Rice Krispies, if you're in America)

3 x 53g Mars Bars (ie, the regular size, not the king size)

75g butter

1 tablespoon golden syrup

200g good quality milk or dark chocolate

Method

Melt Mars Bars, butter and golden syrup together and mix until smooth. (Note: the nougat bit of the Mars Bar doesn't fully melt but stir vigorously to get rid of any lumps.)

Stir in Rice Bubbles until fully combined

Press mixture firmly into foil-lined and greased 20cm square cake tin or shallow slice tray. (Note: it's very important to line the tray with foil AND grease the foil... no foil, and the slice stays in the tin forever. Foil but no grease, and you'll be picking bits of foil off the bottom of the slice for the next two hours. Seriously. Trust me.)

Place slice in fridge until firm.

Place chocolate pieces in heat proof bowl, melt in microwave and stir until smooth.

Spread melted chocolate over slice and refrigerate until firm.

Remove slice from fridge about 1 hour before cutting into squares with a warm knife. (Note: It's easier to cut if you turn it upsidedown on a cutting board so you're cutting into the rice bubbles, not into solid chocolate.)

Enjoy!
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Seven days inside my head

2009-06-09T20:53:00.002+10:00

Seven days ago:

I sent my counsellor some excerpts from my journal. As soon as I hit 'send' I thought, "Sh*t. What have I done?"

I knew it was a mistake.

Six days ago:

I re-read what I sent my counsellor. I then emailed her and said I thought I might be coming down with something and probably wouldn't be able to make it to my session next week. (She knows me well enough now to ignore this...)

I thought it was a mistake.

Five days ago:
I re-read what I sent to my counsellor. I opened my journal and read some entries I didn't send her. I flicked back through the journal and noted how many entries were really quite similar to what I'd sent. They go back a long way.

I was willing to entertain the idea that maybe it wasn't a mistake.

Four days ago:
I re-read what I sent to my counsellor. I remembered previous counselling sessions where I'd left feeling annoyed with myself because I'd tried to talk about what was going on inside me but just couldn't get the words out.

I began to think it wasn't a mistake.

Three days ago:
I re-read what I sent to my counsellor. I remembered previous counselling sessions where I took my journal with me but left it in my bag because I didn't have the courage to read it aloud.

I thought it wasn't a mistake.

Two days ago:
I re-read what I sent to my counsellor. I tried to imagine what my next counselling session would be like. I wrote in my journal, "I still expect it to be hard to talk about these things, but I'm glad [counsellor] has those journal entries."

I knew it wasn't a mistake.

Yesterday:
I re-read what I sent to my counsellor. I thought again about the sessions where the words were stuck inside me. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I knew that a bigger mistake would have been to keep those journal entries to myself.

Today:
I re-read what I sent my counsellor. My counsellor read some of it back to me. We talked. I was right... it was hard. These things go deep and talking about them will be hard for a long time. But... that's okay.

It was not a mistake. I did the right thing. I'm glad I did.
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Should I be offended?

2009-06-06T21:05:00.008+10:00

Should I be offended when my cat feels the need to clean herself for twenty minutes after I pat her?

The decisions to be made when you're a cat. Sleep all afternoon?

Or spend some time playing with all your toys?

And then there's the pic below. I can't work out whether Sophie has a toilet fetish or she's just a huge nosy parker. Every time I turn on the light/exhaust fan in the toilet she comes running from wherever she happens to be and sticks her face in the loo. I often have to push her away in order to sit down and even then she meows at me, pats at me with her paws and tries to get me to move. I have to say this occasionally puts me off my game...

As soon as I stand up she sticks her head back in the bowl, then looks up at the button, waiting for me to press it so she can watch it flush. It's like her own personal Better Homes and Gardens water feature.

No... my cat's not weird. Really.

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It's a great relationship that we don't have

2009-06-03T00:32:00.004+10:00

The counsellor/client relationship is a strange beast. I've been seeing my current counsellor for about 10 months and I'd say we have a great relationship... except technically we don't really have a relationship at all. Well, we do, but how do you define it? We're certainly friendly, but we're not friends - we don't have coffee or go shoe shopping together. (And if we were friends she really shouldn't be my counsellor.) It's a professional relationship... and yet this woman knows far more about me than any of my friends. She probably has a better insight than anyone I know into my fears, my hopes, my insecurities, my anxieties. Sometimes we talk about things that make me horribly uncomfortable or highly anxious - conversations I wouldn't dream of having with my friends - and although it's often difficult to talk about these things I always feel safe to do so. I trust my counsellor with the fragile and raw things within me; and she has seen me at my most vulnerable.

I'm pondering this tonight because today I emailled my counsellor some entries from my journal. Now, I've seen plenty of chick-flicks and I know that you should never let anyone see your diary. It always ends in tears (or in wacky hijinks, if it's that kind of film). And yet here I was, happily sending off portions of my diary - my DIARY! - to a woman I didn't even know a year ago; a woman who is paid to chat with me; a woman who seems to care about me but who is not a friend. It's really rather strange, when you think about it.

Still, my counsellor is great... and I'm happy to say that we have a wonderful non-relationship. :-)

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Truth

2009-05-31T10:39:00.007+10:00

It's been one year and nine months since I first started counselling, and almost exactly one year since I started to understand the extent and impact of my brother's abuse. I have had weekly sessions during that entire period, apart from a period of about three months when I was having fortnightly appointments. That's a lot of counselling. It's such a part of my life now that I have trouble sometimes remembering what life was like before I started. In the last few months, as I've been digging deeper into trauma that's been buried for a long time, counselling has started to feel like a bad dream. I keep thinking that I went into this feeling a little bit down and depressed and now, without quite knowing how it happened, I'm living in a whole new world. It's a world where I talk about trauma and abuse in familiar terms, where anxiety is measured on a scale of severity but is never entirely absent, where often I can't sleep because talking about things has made me unsettled and upset, where sometimes I need to curl up in bed like a wounded animal and hide from the world, where I feel intense shame for things that shouldn't have shame attached to them at all - it's a world where I live with a pain that goes so deep I don't even have the words to describe it. I never intended to enter this world. I didn't even know it was there and sometimes I just can't believe this is where I live now. It feels like a bad dream and I want to wake up.

At times I think that if I'd never gone to see a counsellor I wouldn't be in this place. I wouldn't be someone who has survived abuse. I wouldn't be anxious. I wouldn't have insomnia. I would float along happily and not be in this strange and difficult world. Sometimes I feel like I made a mistake seeing a counsellor, and that taking that step caused all these things to happen... like it's my own fault that I'm now struggling, and living in a place that's frightening and hard. These are the times when I need to remind myself of what is true.

Truth: whatever his motives, the way my brother treated me was abuse. Calling it abuse or calling it something else or even ignoring it won't change the truth. Abuse is abuse.

Truth: whatever her motives or her understanding of the situation, and even though she loves me, my mother allowed my brother to continue to abuse me. The fact that she loves me and didn't see it as abuse doesn't change the effect it had on me.

Truth: just because I didn't feel traumatised doesn't mean I wasn't. If that's my 'normal', how could I possibly know?

Truth: anxiety is not new. I've always had anxiety attacks, especially at night; I just didn't know what they were. Counselling helped me name them. It didn't cause them.

Truth: before I started counselling, I wasn't happy. I didn't feel safe. I didn't know how to trust people. I didn't like myself. I wanted a 'reset' button. I longed to escape, to be a different person, to start again where no one knows me. Counselling didn't make this happen; it just made me recognise it.

Truth: sometimes I don't know what's true, or I know it but I have no idea how to get there. I need help to see the truth and live in the truth. That's the point of counselling. It's not to make me feel terrible or to condemn me to a new and painful world; it's to help me see where I'm living and then help me move on and start to live in a better place.

And that's the truth.

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Come home, all is forgiven

2009-05-29T22:16:00.000+10:00

Shoemaker's elves, where are you?

Rhody Garden Take Two - same place, different season

2009-05-26T17:33:00.002+10:00

On Tuesdays I see my counsellor in the mornings. Tuesday is also my day off, which means if I'm feeling a little fragile after counselling I have the rest of the day to be nice to myself and have some recovery time. It's a good system and works well for me.

Today was a fragile day. At one point my counsellor suggested a word to describe how I feel about the thing I was discussing and it was so exactly on the money it was like she jumped into my head, had a little look around and said, "Oh, right, I see... you feel like this." (Kind of spooky, actually, but probably more so for her than me... inside my head is a strange and scary place!) Anyway, I needed some time and space afterwards, so I headed up to the National Rhododendron Garden. I was the only person in the whole place - even the lady who takes the entrance fee wasn't there; there was just an optimistic note suggesting that people place a donation in the box provided. The gardens were quiet and peaceful and lonely and just what I needed. My soul was soothed and I left there reminded that God is good.

Easy parenting

2009-05-25T11:05:00.000+10:00

When I was growing up my sole career ambition was to be married and have children. I know, it's not at all 'enlightened' but it doesn't matter because women's liberation means having the freedom to make choices, and that was the choice I wanted to make.

As I discovered later, we can't always fulfil the choices we make. I'm now 38... and a half... and the chance that I'll be able to have kids is, realistically, pretty slim. Part of that is because I'm a Christian, which means I would want to choose the marriage part before the bit where I have children. Additionally, I don't want to marry anyone who doesn't share my beliefs and that narrows the available 'pool' in a seriously drastic fashion.... but that's okay. I'm free to make these choices and I know the consequences. And of course, even if I do get married within my potential child bearing years there is absolutely no guarantee I'd be able to have children anyway, partly because of my age and partly because... sometimes things don't work the way you hope they will.

The thought that I might not have children - probably won't have children, if I'm being realistic - is heartbreaking at times. I have people with children say to me, "Oh, but you're so lucky. You don't have any of the pressures that we have... parents never get a minute to themselves, it's so completely full-on..." This merely makes me want to reply with either, "So why did you have more than one?" or "I'd be happy to take them off your hands if they're such a burden and you feel so 'unlucky' compared with me." But I don't because I know they're trying to be kind even if their kindness feels more like salt in my wounds sometimes. Also I know that parenting IS full-on and loving your children often makes it more stressful because then there's guilt about feeling stressed. (Although I still think it's incredibly insensitive and hurtful to say to someone without kids "you don't know what it's like", but that's a blog post for another day...)

Today, though... I'm sitting in bed with a raging headache brought on by yet another night of insomnia, which was partly fuelled by anxiety. I feel awful and I've taken the day off work. But here's what was great about this morning - I got up, gave my cat a good morning cuddle, fed her, let her into her daytime play area and then went back to bed and shut my bedroom door. Yes, I long to have children and it hurts that I don't... but the ability to leave my 'baby' to fend for herself, and know that she can do that perfectly well, is pretty awesome on days like today.

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Cause and effect

2009-05-21T23:24:00.001+10:00

I'm no scientist, but I think it works like this:

Cause: Tell a couple of friends that since buying the enormous cat tree I haven't caught Sophie sleeping on the dining table (where she's not allowed).

Effect: Come home immediately after this conversation and find Sophie sleeping on the dining table (where she's not allowed).

Cause: Think about posting on my blog about my cat jumping up onto surfaces where she's not allowed.

Effect: Whilst still mulling this over in my mind, walk into bathroom to find that cat has snuck in and is now sitting demurely on vanity unit (where, of course, she's not allowed....)

Just in case I have somehow developed superhero powers that enable my thoughts to become reality, I am now thinking about winning the lottery, stopping global warming, being thin and possibly a bit taller, making low cost housing available to all and having Cadbury Creme Eggs in shops all year round. I'll let you know how it goes.

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Winter Wonderland?

2009-05-20T23:14:00.002+10:00

Two winters ago I had mild depression and anaemia. It would take me half an hour to make my bed. I lived in a house with no heating, so I spent most of winter huddled over a fan heater and crying. I was tired and lethargic and I hated it.

Last winter I was depressed again, far worse than the previous year. It would have taken me half an hour to make my bed if I'd been at the point where I was even able to think about doing any kind of housework. I was tired and lethargic and I didn't care.

Now it's nearly June and the weather is getting cold. A few days ago I realised I was starting to slide into some pre-depression behaviours. I'm tending towards avoiding contact with people; I haven't been to church in four weeks; I'm finding cooking to be more of an effort than normal so I'm not eating well; my general anxiety levels have increased; I'm not sleeping much; I'm occasionally bad tempered and I'm sometimes having trouble making decisions.

This sounds like a bad thing, but actually it's good news... because this is the first time I've been able to recognise the signs that might lead to depression before becoming depressed. Life might still be a bit of a struggle as the weather gets colder but I don't think I'll be depressed this winter. Things are looking up.

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Rules for sci-fi television

2009-05-19T21:30:00.002+10:00

I've had a few days off recently and it's been coupled with a bit of insomnia so I've managed to get through quite a few episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation. It's cheesy and the first couple of seasons are awful - I've said many times that if you can get through Season 1 of Star Trek: TNG then you can get through almost anything. It's truly craptastic. Having watched so many episodes in a row I think I've become a bit of an expert on the rules for portraying either the future of humanity or an alien race on television.

1. The Small Government Rule
The entire planet may consist of several continents and contain 15 billion people (or creatures), but it is ruled by a central government consisting of 3 or 4 people. All decisions, affecting the entire planet, will be made by these people. If the planet does not have free elections then one of the government leaders will definitely be a power-hungry dictator who is madder than a cut snake.

2. The Homogenous Culture Rule
Everyone in the future is super tolerant and PC, and accepting of all different alien cultures. There is, however, absolutely NO cultural diversity or difference within individual planets. All creatures of the same alien race will dress alike, follow the same religious beliefs and build their houses on roughly the same pattern.

3. The Tailored Savages Rule
The more 'primitive' and violent the culture, the more elaborate their cultural dress. Aliens who enjoy ripping other cultures limb from limb seem to want to clothe themselves in many layers of leather, buckles, furs, padded shoulders and sharp, angular accessories.... because when you're in a bloody, hand-to-hand battle, you want to spend 30 minutes doing up buckles and making sure your animal-talon hair accessory is straight, right?

4. The Highbrow Humanity Rule
In the future, humans have 'evolved' beyond such crass entertainment as television or movies. Fortunately, in the future there is enough classical music, literature, art and the occasional highbrow play to suit everyone. And of course these things will suit everyone since in the future we are all interested in the same things (see The Homogenous Culture Rule).

5. The Cross-Species Breeding Rule
With the advent of space travel, more and more alien cultures are meeting other interesting alien cultures. As luck would have it, most cultures are roughly humanoid in shape and almost all seem to have sexual practices and genetics that are compatible with each other. This means that virtually any alien species can cross-breed with another. The fact that this is approximately equivalent to a canary successfully breeding with a labrador has apparently escaped everyone's notice, despite the fact that everyone in the future is a scientist in their spare time. The resultant offspring of this cross-breeding catastrophe won't favour one parent or the other; they will always look like a 50/50 mix of both parents.

6. The Random Numbering Rule
At some point, all the planets across several galaxies got together (possibly at some huge intergalactic freshman mixer) and thought, "Hey, you know what? It would be really fun if we all numbered our planets as well as naming them." This resulted in a proliferation of planets named things like Earwax 4 and Wobblybutt 8. The numbers are arbitrary since no one has ever heard of Earwax 1-3 or Wobblybutt 1-7. The exception to this rule is Earth, of course. We don't need a number... we're Number One!

I'm sure there are plenty more rules... feel free to add your own in the comments. :)
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The finished product

2009-05-11T20:52:00.002+10:00

This photo was taken inside without a flash so the quality and colours aren't great but you get the idea... this is the way the painting ended up.

Crazy Cat Lady

2009-05-10T18:05:00.001+10:00

Cats can be expensive. Savvy businesses have twigged to the fact that cat owners tend to spend more than dog owners on accessories for their cats. Part of this is because more and more cats are being kept indoors 100% of the time, which is the responsible thing to do but it means that cat owners need to provide ways for their cat to exercise and play indoors. Dog owners, on the other hand, can take their dog out and play ball in the park. The need to exercise an indoor cat means that cat owners are usually willing to buy large and elaborate cat trees so their cat can climb and scratch. Cats also like to look out the window and sleep up high so cat trees are perfect for that.

Realising the need for large cat trees, and realising that pet owners in general are suckers for their pet's happiness, the cat tree/accessory industry is huge and stupidly expensive. There is one particular company, which I won't name, that makes a very distinctive type of cat tree. These trees are very sturdy (like, 50kg) and cats apparently love them... but the smallest ones, which are about the size of a footstool, are roughly $300. The tallest and most elaborate is $980. I'm willing to spend $980 to stop my cat dying but there's no way I'm spending nearly one thousand dollars so that Sophie has somewhere comfy to sleep. Like she'd know the difference anyway... the other day I found her asleep draped across the rungs of a dining chair in what looked like a very uncomfortable position.

Sophie is an indoor-only cat, so I recognise the need for some sort of cat tree/scratching post. It will keep her entertained and exercised and, hopefully, will stop her scratching my furniture and climbing the curtains. Well, that's how it's supposed to work. She does have a small scratching post with a couple of levels that I bought from the Reject Shop, and she loves it, but it's not very sturdy and there's no way she'll be able to use it when she's full grown. British Shorthairs tend to be stocky and heavy... like a little barrel with legs. So I've been looking online and in stores and have been horrified at the prices of some things I've seen. Not only that, most cat trees are tall and narrow so a heavy cat would knock it over in no time. I was starting to despair until I stumbled across the website for Lunic Pet Accessories. Yes, I'm shamelessly plugging them because they were fantastic. Their website said they'll design a cat tree/scratching post to your requirements so I emailled them and gave a very vague description of what I wanted. They came back with a few designs, we tweaked them, and this was the end result:

It's 130cm tall, 80cm long and 50cm wide. The whole thing (including being delivered and assembled) cost me $170, which is about $100 cheaper than anything else I saw of a comparable size, and about $200 less than anything I saw of a comparable size plus quality and sturdiness.

I'm very happy with it and Sophie loves it... but I admit there was a moment where I thought, "Hmmm... I'm buying a piece of personally designed, hand-crafted furniture for my cat."

Yeah.... I think I'll pop off now. I have to go pick up my membership card for the Crazy Cat Lady Society.

My first commissioned work...

2009-05-10T02:00:00.006+10:00

... except I'm not being paid for it. :) I'm on the Women's Ministry team at my church and we're having a Women's Wellbeing and Wellness Day on 30 May. The fliers and other advertising for the day has a pink gerbera as the logo, so the team asked me to paint a giant pink gerbera to hang in the foyer of the church on the day.

Scary. I've only ever painted things as I felt like it; I've certainly never gone into it with any kind of plan. Hmmm... bit like my life, really. I told them I would give it a go but if I didn't like it, no one would ever see it. Given that I'm paying for the canvas and paints, they agreed that was fair. I warned them that my style is very 'hit and miss' and it might suggest a gerbera rather than look like a real flower.

I haven't finished it yet but the flower itself is pretty much done, apart from a stem. I couldn't bring myself to paint it the Barbie-style hot pink that the other women wanted so it's more purplish than pink... close enough. The colours in the photos aren't entirely accurate.

The paint colour is Matisse Magenta. It's delicious. I like Matisse colours but can't afford them most of the time so I content myself with A2, which is also a nice student quality paint but it doesn't have this yummy magenta shade - and my paint mixing skills are hopeless; I'd never be able to mix it to my satisfaction. The canvas is about 120cm high by 50cm wide. I thought about making the flower bigger to fill more of the canvas but I kind of like it as is.

So there it is - the first thing anyone has ever asked me to paint.

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Dear Hallmark, I have an idea

2009-05-09T22:48:00.002+10:00

It's Mothers' Day tomorrow. For the past few weeks I've been seeing an explosion of sheepskin slippers, nighties, chocolates, romance novels, foot spas and other things that every mother apparently wants. In addition, there are racks and racks of cards with sentiments like, "Dear Mum, you've loved and guided me my whole life. You've made me what I am today. I can never repay you. Thank you for everything."

These are all fine sentiments and I believe it's important to tell people that you appreciate and love them. I am left to wonder, though, what happens when you don't have a great relationship with your mother. What kind of card do you send when your relationship is scarred by deep wounds that may never heal? I've searched high and low but as yet I've been unable to find a card that says, "Dear Mum, for nearly twenty years you chose not to protect me from your son's abuse and you made me believe the abuse was my fault. Now you treat me like I'm a huge disappointment to you. You've helped to make me what I am today. I can never repay you." Hmmm... can't see Hallmark going for it.

I have mixed feelings about Mothers' Day. I have plenty of friends who are mothers and I think they're doing a great job. It's not all they are but it's a large part of who they are and it's a good thing for them to know they are valued (although appreciation would be good more often than once a year). At the same time I find it an incredibly difficult day because I, and I'm sure others with stories like mine, feel a mixture of pain and guilt. I look at the Mothers' Day advertising and I feel bad that I don't have that wonderful mother-daughter relationship that is being shoved at me from all sides. Whilst it's true that my mother allowed my brother to abuse me, it's also true that she fed me and clothed me and comforted me in her own inadequate way. I doubt she'll ever understand the damage she helped to inflict upon me. Does the good outweigh the bad? Should I act as though we do have a Hallmark relationship and hope that it becomes true? Am I wrong to still remember the pain?

The reality is, there is no scale. I can't weigh up the good and the bad and see which one comes out on top. My mother, whatever her motives, contributed to some terrible pain that has left me with deep scars. I am working hard towards healing but I can't pretend the pain never happened. Equally, I can't pretend we have a great relationship now. I believe my mother loves me but I really don't think she likes me very much; and the best I can say about our relationship is that it is politely strained.

It's Mother's Day tomorrow. I don't think I'll be sending a card.
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Of this and that, and a bit of the other too

2009-05-05T00:52:00.002+10:00

I decided it was time to do a bit of a catch-up post since I haven't blogged in a while, but I'm having trouble remembering exactly what I've been doing that has got in the way of blogging. I know there's been stuff. Important stuff. It kept me busy. Really. I just can't seem to remember any of it.

Work has been a bit better. Things are still hard but the staff team is starting to regroup and life goes on. On Monday a lovely parishioner came in with cupcakes for the staff team and on Friday another parishioner arrived with flowers for me and for the woman who volunteers in the office on Friday. In both cases it was because they thought we might be feeling a bit stressed and sad. I've tried to institute a new rule that anyone who comes into the church office must bring flowers or food but that idea doesn't seem to be taking off.

On Saturday I went to my church's musicians' camp (ie, the church I attend, not the one where I work). The fact that I went to the camp is more hilarious than it sounds given that I couldn't hit a recognisable note with a gun to my head (although really, who could?) and I can't seem to manage the multi-tasking required to sing and clap at the same time. However, I support the music pastor and music team by doing their admin stuff so they kindly invited me to the camp. I only went for a few hours but heard two sensational talks about praise - why God is worthy of praise and how we can praise him. The speaker pointed out that we don't actually need to use the word 'praise' in order to praise God. Good point ... there are many, many songs that enthusiastically declare (over and over and over) "we want to praise you, God" but never get around to the actual... praising God part. Reminds me of a friend who used to say to people, "I want to encourage you." And that was it; his entire method of 'encouragement' was that sentence. Whenever he said it to me I'd say, "Okay... fire away then. Encourage me." Unfortunately my sarcasm was lost on him.

Counselling has been mostly focussed on what's happening at work which is annoying in some ways but a good break in others. It was getting a bit intense for a while so diverting my attention to something else might not have been a bad thing. On the other hand, though, there have been a few moments of thinking, "Honestly, could I just deal with one thing at a time??"

And finally, in kitten news... Sophie is bringing me great joy and lots of laughs. The first pic below was taken just after I discovered she'd not only snuck into my room when I accidentally left the door open but she'd also realised that the bed is the place to be. I just love her "oh crap - I've been busted!" look. The other pics are just because I like them.

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Changes

2009-04-26T21:21:00.001+10:00

I haven't blogged much recently because there has been stuff happening. My boss - ie, the minister of the church where I work - resigned from his position just before Easter. Staff were told about it just after Easter, it was announced to the congregation last Sunday, and today was his last Sunday at the church.

He is leaving for personal reasons and the family is moving back interstate to be closer to their wider family. I respect that and I think they've made the right choice. I am, however, heartbroken at their decision. It is a huge loss for the church and a huge loss to those of us who work there. A locum has been appointed and he will work part time, including Sundays, in the role of vicar whilst the church begins the long process of finding a new minister. After the last minister left it took 18 months to appoint the current... well, now former... minister. It's a process that should take a considerable amount of time. As Christians, we believe that leaders are appointed by God and are responsible for leading, caring, teaching and praying for the people under their care. It's a big deal, and as such we shouldn't go for the next person who happens to be looking for a job. We need to be prayerful and considerate... and we will be, but it leaves the church in an unsettled state. It's a difficult time; and right now is especially difficult because the resignation came as a surprise and we've had very little time to get used to it. We are unsettled and we are all very sad.

It's difficult for me too, even though I am not a parishioner of that church. I have spoken before about how much I love my job. A large part of that is because we have a great staff team. There are four of us and we work well together. It's been a joy to come to work. Now one quarter of the team has left and it leaves a hole for us. Additionally, roughly 50% of my job is just being PA to the minister... so my job will change quite a lot and I'm not sure yet how it's going to look.

If you're a praying person, please pray. This is a difficult time.
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There was one in the bed and the little one said...

2009-04-18T23:44:00.001+10:00

I am in my bed at the moment, which is a double bed. If I could fit a queen bed in this room I'd have one, but alas, a queen bed would mean I wouldn't be able to open my wardrobe doors. As I write this I am tucked up in one side of the bed, and on the other side there are two books, two journals, a Bible, four DVDs, an envelope and two pens. Plus my laptop which is on my lap, obviously.

It's official. I can never marry. I mean, come on... where the heck would I put all my stuff?? ;-)

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Insomnia and the rom-com

2009-04-15T01:50:00.001+10:00

Being awake at 1.20am can do strange things to my brain... like make me start musing about romantic comedies and why we like them. Why do I have these thoughts? I have no idea. I'm quite sure that the film makers didn't intend anyone to think deeply about them, but there you go. I can't sleep.

Last night I watched Picture Perfect with Jennifer Aniston. (I mean, Jennifer Aniston acted in it. I wasn't watching it with her.) I wasn't particularly invested in it; it just happened to be on. I knew from the first two minutes that Jen's character would end up hooking up with the blonde wedding video maker guy. Everyone knew it, I'm sure, despite several attempts to fool the audience into thinking that this time she wouldn't get the guy. Of course she ended up with him and it was... well, a "picture perfect" ending.

We know how romantic comedies will end. If the girl didn't get the guy it wouldn't be a romantic comedy, it would be a drama. The "rom-com", as they are apparently known, is totally predictable and largely formulaic, and yet dozens of them are made every year and they continue to bring in oodles of dough for film makers and actors alike.

I feel quite sure that no one really believes that the events portrayed in romantic comedies are the norm. We know life isn't really like that in most cases, as much as we would like to fool ourselves that it is. I know many people think that women like these films because we hope life is going to be like Hollywood, and because we believe that someday Richard Gere will serenade us through the sun roof of his very expensive car, holding a bunch of roses, and then vault out through the roof of the car and climb up the fire escape in his gorgeously expensive suit whilst holding the roses between his teeth and... sorry, where was I? Ahem. Anyway, the truth is that most women are not idiots. We don't think life is like a movie and we don't secretly hope that life will be like a movie.

I can't speak for anyone else, but I like the occasional romantic comedy simply because they're fun. Sure, I know how it's going to end but I don't know how they're going to get there. Truth be told, most of the time I don't want realism in my movies. Realistic movies tend to be depressing or frightening or mundane - because that's what real life is like. Sometimes it's sad, sometimes it's scary, most of the time it's just day to day mediocrity that can have some great times but 99% of the time it isn't film-worthy. I don't want to watch a movie about things that might very well happen in my own life. Where's the fun in that? I want silliness, I want adventure, I want ridiculous events that I know will never happen.

So here's to the romantic comedy. They're stupid, they're predictable, I will certainly mock them... but I'll probably keep watching them too.
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For Hip-Jen

2009-04-11T12:02:00.001+10:00

No, this is NOT going to become a mushy, cutesy cat blog... but I've added these pics (including the blurry action shot) to prove to Hippomanic Jen that Sophie is not a stuffed toy but a real, live kitten. Or... she's a very well-made stuffed toy with moveable limbs.

Also, this post is evidence of exactly how long my "the cat won't be allowed in the kitchen" plan lasted. Heh. Yeah.

Kitten Day!

2009-04-07T13:31:00.003+10:00

Sophie has arrived! I picked her up this morning and I can confirm that she does NOT enjoy car travel. For a little girl she has a very big voice and she used it for the entire 20 minute car ride home. She's been here nearly three hours and has spent most of that time wandering all over my house, checking things out and meowing loudly. She was too unsettled to sit still... and fair enough given that she's just been ripped away from her family and taken to a strange house where there are no other kitties. She's calmed down a bit now and is having a little rest beside me on the arm of the chair. I have shown her the litter box but she hasn't used it yet... I'm hoping that just means she doesn't need to go right now...

Here are some pics...

Hard work

2009-04-06T13:03:00.001+10:00

Counselling has been hard lately. Really hard. I'm not going to talk about the details here (and really the details aren't important to share) but let's just say that dredging up feelings that have been buried for more than a couple of decades is hard work. It's necessary work and it's a great step towards healing, but it sure hurts.

I'm feeling sore and fragile and as a result blogging is likely to fall by the wayside for a bit. (At least, intelligent blogging is likely to fall by the wayside - I expect that blogging about trivial stuff like my bubble bath will still happen!) Anyway, please bear with me...

Bubble, bubble...

2009-04-05T15:38:00.001+10:00

It's entirely possible I may have gone a bit overboard with the bubble bath...

As it turns out I also misjudged the hot-to-cold ratio, as I discovered a minute later when I put my foot on and nearly scalded the skin off it. Still, it ended up being a very relaxing bath. :)

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Turkish delight

2009-03-31T15:51:00.002+11:00

Today I went with a friend up to Olinda, in the Dandenongs. It is a lovely little spot up in the hills with some delightful crafty shops and tea houses. We found a new shop called Treasures of Istanbul, which was loaded with the most wonderful hand-painted Turkish plates and bowls, as well as rugs, bags and some truly outstanding lamps. The guy who owns it has just moved to Australia to be with his Australian fiance so the store is fairly new, but he seems to be doing okay. My friend and I could have spent hours in there - not to mention thousands of dollars, if we had that kind of money.

Given that it's a new shop, and the owner has just moved to Australia, it would have been unwelcoming not to buy something, right? Right - I knew you'd agree. I bought this bag:

The photo doesn't quite do justice to the beautiful rich colours. I really love it... it makes me smile just to look at it!
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Cat bling

2009-03-28T19:09:00.007+11:00

I went out today to look for some cat accessories for when I get Miss Sophie home. I had no idea of the world into which I am, apparently, about to be initiated. You can buy just about any ~~piece of crap~~ precious item imaginable for your kitty. Here are some samples:

A pet carrier, which can be worn like a handbag, for when you want to take your pet for a walk. That would be a walk where you do the walking and your pet looks out in embarrassment from the frilly pink face hole.

Of course, depending on how much your pet weighs, your shoulder may get sore. In that case, pop your little darling into the pet stroller!

What pet could be happy without a collar? You have your choice of the trendy bandana collar or, for the more sophisticated lady, a delicate jewelled number.

Your cat must have exercise, particularly if she is an indoor cat. A floor-to-ceiling cat gym should solve that problem.

And finally... what kitty household is complete without a self-flushing, self-washing cat litter box?

Poor Sophie. She's going to be horribly disappointed when she finds out her new mummy bought a plain, carpeted scratching post from The Reject Shop and will be buying an ordinary old $5 litter tray with no lid and no flush at all, self- or otherwise.
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Any thoughts on names?

2009-03-25T19:01:00.000+11:00

I've chosen my kitty! Fast work, I know, but I did all the research in the three weeks while I was waiting for my landlord to answer my request, so it was just a matter of ringing the breeder.

Photos are below. They're from my phone and the breeder's camera (apparently held in shaky hands) so she's hard to see but you can get the idea. She's a seven week old British Shorthair and I'll be picking her up in a fortnight or so.

Now the important question - what to call her? Right now I'm leaning towards Sophie but I'm undecided. I prefer human names for cat - no Princess or Cuddles kitties for me! Any thoughts?

A new addition to the House of Femina

2009-03-24T16:43:00.000+11:00

I'm one excited little Femina today, because my landlord has just given me permission to get a cat! I'm sure all you dog-lovers out there are saying "ugh" but I don't care. I love the placid companionship of a cat; and as a person who lives alone it is so great to come home to a face instead of an empty house. Yes, it's a furry face that can't talk but even so it makes a huge difference.

I'm now in the process of contacting breeders so hopefully I'll have good news soon. I could get a stray from the pound but since I am at work four days per week I want to be sure to get a breed that copes well with being alone and won't be lonely and unhappy. I'm looking for a British Shorthair... often called a teddy-bear cat because of their placid personality.

More news soon... :)
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Bravery

2009-03-18T11:25:00.002+11:00

I've been meeting up with a couple of friends every fortnight to pray and chat about how we're going. It's been such a blessing to us as we've all been dealing with some major things recently and have appreciated the mutual support and love.

Yesterday when we met I talked about how I've been going with counselling. One of my friends said, "I think you're very patient and very brave." That was a lovely thing to say and I was touched to hear it (even though it doesn't feel like that from my side)... but I couldn't help thinking that I'm just a little bit over the whole bravery thing now. What I'd actually like is for someone to say, "Look, you've been very brave and you've done really well... but we'll take over from here. You go have a lie down and eat some chocolate and relax."

I don't think that's going to happen, but hey - a girl can dream!.

Perspectives

2009-03-16T12:24:00.002+11:00

I met a new friend recently. NOT just a new friend; a fellow West Wing fan - these things are important! As it turns out we have some other things in common too, including the fact that we're both dealing with the effects of some ugly stuff in childhood. Our stories are not the same by any means but there are some common threads.

I was around at her house on the weekend to watch some West Wing... we got through half an episode (I know - and we call ourselves fans!) and spend most of the evening chatting instead. At one point my friend asked how long I'd been seeing a counsellor. I said it's been about 18 months: 10 months with Bad Counsellor and 8 months with Good Counsellor (yes, that's how they're designated in my head). My friend said, "You're amazing. You've come so far in such a short time!"

This threw me entirely for a minute. Let me give this some context... I would estimate that there are about 1 in 5 counselling sessions where I say things like I never expected to be in counselling for this long; I feel like I'm doing something wrong because my progress is so slow and half the time I feel like I'm going backwards; I feel stupid that I talk about the same things week after week and don't seem to be getting anywhere; and I feel like I'm never going to feel any different from the way I feel now. So to hear someone say I've come "so far" was surprising. It reminded me that most of the time I have very little perspective about any of this. Often I feel like I'm approaching counselling from a reactionary stance. Things come up and I talk about them; and while I'm dealing with the Crisis Of The Week I forget to look and see how the thing I'm dealing with RIGHT NOW, that seems like the only thing in the world, fits into the bigger picture.

You all know I hate using the word 'journey' in relation to counselling and healing, but (yes, I'm going to do it) I'm afraid I can't escape the fact that it IS a journey. If I don't look back occasionally at where I've been then I get caught up in the urgent and start thinking I haven't taken any forward steps at all. Similarly, if I don't have at least some idea of what 'better' looks like it makes it very hard to work towards getting there.

I don't know that I want to use the word 'amazing' just yet, but it was good to get someone else's perspective. I have a long way to go and most times I have only the vaguest idea of where I'm going anyway, but in all that I shouldn't lose sight of how far I've come.
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The living dead

2009-03-14T11:19:00.000+11:00

Yesterday I went to the supermarket to buy something for lunch. I admit, I wasn't looking my best. Although it was a work day I work in a pretty casual environment so I wear jeans most of the time. I was wearing them yesterday, and my top was clean but maybe a bit slobby. My hair was scraped back and I admit my grey regrowth should have been dealt with about two weeks ago. Still, I was feeling okay... until I got to the checkout, where the girl serving me greeted me cheerily with, "Hi, how are you today? You look dead!" Not "you look dead tired", just "you look dead".

I was a little taken aback but was prepared to believe I might have misheard her. I said, "I beg your pardon?" She repeated it more loudly, "You look dead!" I said, "Oh." At this point she may have realised she wasn't winning any points with me so she asked, "Umm.. have you had a busy day?" I could have put her out of her misery but I was a tad snippy by then, so I stared her down and said, "No, not particularly."

Strangely, the conversation ceased at that point...
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