Tag Archives: crazy

Aug27

how not to think about something

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  • write ‘how not to think about something’
  • make another bullet point
  • stare at screen
  • remember the thing
  • remember you’re not thinking about the thing

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    • think about the thing
    • look at title – remind yourself why you’re writing this
    • think about the thing
    • decide to meditatemeditation-meme
    • get a text, read text, text back with emojis
    • notice Snapchat notification, look at Snaps, try every filter on yourself and then on the bird and then on the you and the bird together
    • congratulate yourself on very clever bird Snapimages-5

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    • remember you were going to mediate
    • check YouTube….
    • check Twitter….
    • get angry at Twitter
    • tweet brilliantly, sit smugly aware that your tweets will change the world
    • remember you were going to meditate
    • get email notification, read emailresponsibility13(alternate)
    • get Facebook notification….
    • think about the thing
    • right, time to meditate
    • congratulate self about meditating
    • think about the thing while meditating

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  • give up mediation for cheesecake
  • experience self-loathing about eating cheesecake, but then smugness because not thinking about the thing
  • think about thingimages-6
  • decide to write a blog about how not thinking about the thing
  • come up with a clever blog title
  • finish cheesecake, because then it won’t be able to tempt you anymore #logical
  • wonder why you’re using hashtags in WordPress #odd
  • forget clever blog title
  • think about the thing
  • look up memes for blogcreativity3
  • berate self over not being organized
  • decide morning is a much better time to get organized
  • go to bed
  • pick up intellectually challenging but impressive novel, read one sentence three times
  • think about the thing
  • go to sleep.
Feb12

let me sum up, in tweets

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Sometimes you can sum up a relationship better in Tweets and Hashtags. #FakeLoveFacts #BreakUpHashtagsAreTheBest #ImFINEdammit

The one that is the story of my life

The one I heard over and over

I actually believed this one

A story I told myself

Not kidding

I need to redefine ’emergency’

not really true, he never said I was sexy

and he forget his phone, bummer, right?

actually the only way he expressed anything

again, not really true, he never said he wanted to be with me

I’m probably just over-reacting, again

and again….

And the one that is the most true

Thanks Twitter for the #FakeLoveFacts Hashtag trend. I’d say I feel much better, but that’s not true. But it did distract me for a little bit, so that’s good.

I do talk about other things on  Twitter, (cough! #Resist #TheWalkingDead) really, you can click, you know, like, if you really, really wanted to. I’m going to go finish of that quart of chocolate ice cream while you do.

 

Aug3

breakup in bulletpoints, pictures and swear words

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Stages I go through in a breakup*
(*not in any order whatsoever. *reserve the right to revisit bulletpoints)

  • Singing loudly with Annie Lennox, Aretha Franklin, Pink and Carrie Underwood while driving – e99486bc49cfd4bec71dc8ed7da45efdam strong empowered woman who needs no man

  • Fetal position, rocking back and forth muttering things to the dog – am certain no will ever love me, that my hair will never behave respectably, that my feet are just plain ugly and I should just give up now and become a cat lady
  • Cool. I’m, like totally cool. No, actually I’m so important and so busy with all my important busy life things that I have no time to do anything buy my very important things that really just take up all of my time. Lord I just have no time to be worried about such trivial things! Am important, very busy person, anybody can see that, also I like wearing my pants inside out.

  • Fuck it. Fuck absolutely all of it. Fuck all of it somuch that I’m going to sit here and eat ice cream – NOT low fat or froyo, but FULL fat Ben and Fucking Jerry’s ice cream, AND I’m going to eat it straight from the container sitting on the couch at 11pm, because I can, okay??? Am so damn happy that no man will ever see me naked again that I’m gonna sit here and my godamm ice cream,  okay?

  • Obsessively checking WhatsApp to see who’s online and when. Not because I care, I 456ff36526284be28c434f4763d1027bb105178f4bced101b5abe3679a9d065ejust happened to pick up my phone. Am totally in control here, and do not care when anyone is on line and not sending me messages. Do not care even a tiny bit. Absolutely did not just check my messages just now.
  • Hang out with hot 30somethings. Decide right after gorgeous blonde in short shorts says, hey you’re my mom’s age, you look good and that’s what’s really important that I need to hang with my 50something friends maybe a little more.
  • Make empowered decision to go see all Marvel/Xmen/Star Trek movies by myself, because dammit I am an empowered and free woman who needs no man to go to movies with. Also I can eat all the damn popcorn myself.9owjc
  • Buy a parrot, because… because honestly I’ve got nothing here, but I did buy a parrot who is learning to dance and sing to Brittany Spear’s Work Bitch, so that’s pretty entertaining.
  • Revisit the ‘Empowered/Fetal/Fuck All of Things’ Cycle for a few more rounds.
  • Journal, Meditate just like Mastin Kipp says I’m suppose to, because you know he’s a 30something who is apparently enlightened, or at least has a book and a blog and sends messages on YouTube from Maui on how to cope with heartbreak. (aside – he would likely frown benevolently on a few of my other coping mechanisms)

  • Fail spectacularly and not being petty and bitter. Journal about greater than average pettiness and bitterness. Meditate on super charged petty bitter non enlightened behavior that would disappoint Mastin.
  • Wonder if I should share any of this with my therapist, but then worry she will think less of me, then wonder if maybe I am not approaching this correctly. Decide I’m fine, and will tell my therapist so.
  • Draw picture. Write poems. Mock picture and poem. Buy $50 worth of art supplies to colour picture. Continue to mock now coloured in picture.
  • Buy cute dress, because Fuck it.
  • Buy new bra, because really Fuck it
  • Buy groovy top that 30somethings wouldn’t be caught dead in, but would probably say would look good on someone my age.

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  • Look at bank account balance. Berate self over apparent complete lack of self control.
  • Remember that my birthday is in a week.
  • Fuck all the thoughts about what to do on your birthday. Will pretend to ignore the damn thing this year, and secretly stuff face with cupcakes and Ben and Jerry’s.46178953
  • Re-examine feet. Decide they are the ugliest feet that have ever existed. Wear open toed sandals anyway, because Fuck it, no one will ever see me naked again, so why worry about ugly feet. Right moving on.
  • Wonder why you have to write all this shite only after midnight, and not in the morning like normal writers.
  • Debate major hair cut vs finally embracing dreads. Buy more hair product because bank account still had a few dollars in it.  Decide that stress increases frizz, and hair products with cool smelling ingredients will decrease stress.

  • Write self depreciating blog, spends hours writing and rewriting it, finding pictures and clever gifs and memes instead of sleeping, because sleep is for wimps and people who have to have passable hair, pretty toes, and who don’t eat Ben and Jerry’s at midnight, who don’t need to sing Carrie Underwood in the car.
Jul24

have you considered flinging feces at it?

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creativity3

fairly accurate illustration of my brain and hair on an average day

 

So, you might already know I’m not the most meditative person on the planet.

Or maybe you think that because I’m a yoga teacher I’m just All Zen, All the time.

Pete was what you would call 'easily distracted....

Right. About that. Left unattended, I have the average attention span of an over caffeinated squirrel.

So in the pursuit of some mental calm, for scraps to mental peace and quiet, for maybe 3 or 4 thought free nano seconds, for the answers to life the universe and everything, or maybe just how to figure out my “it’s really so fucking complicated I can’t even” relationship status (get ON that one willya Facebook?), I have started meditating again.

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I drink Kombucha. I have a freaking LOTUS FLOWER tattoo. Still want to smack.

I also found Mastin Kipp and his blog The Daily Love and just to be safe I’m reading his book.  Also, I started journalling. I have done these things before, but in my usual, mostly distracted about some little thing or another way, I had dropped both a long while ago in favour of more worthy pursuits, such as:

  • Netflix
  • Ben and Jerry’s
  • Netflix with Ben and Jerry’s
  • Pokemon Go
  • Pokemon Go with Ben and Jerry’s
  • Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, but NOT Pinterest (not sure why, maybe I’ll pop over there for just a second)
  • All of the above with Ben and Jerry’s
  • Googling stupid things (long story, but you really, really, REALLY don’t ever want to Google ‘asshole yoga’ looking for funny yoga teacher stories. Just don’t. Learn from my mistake.  Did you just Google it even though I said not too? Are you sorry now? Don’t ever say I never warned you.
  • Looking at approximately 3 bazillion*  (*estimated, rounded down to the nearest bazillion) memes, images and gifs about being distracted, having monkey mind, having too many thoughts, Hyperbole and a Half,  hair products (completely unrelated, because… Squirrel!) Wait But Why, and only just at this moment noticing The Irony.
  • Lamenting that I am now out of Ben and Jerry’simages

I also discovered how fun passive aggressively coping with frustration by live Tweeting could be. Like, say that time I didn’t show up 15 minutes early to my Discount Tire appointment.

 

And you wonder why my friends dubbed me Zen Bitch.

So meditating. How hard could it be? I mean I used to belong to the is way cool Buddhist group that mediated for 2 freakin hours on Sundays. I semi regularly pop into a sensory deprivation float tank – Anicca Float Club, awesome place, and I can sit on my couch and do essentially absolutely nothing for hours (see Netflix, Ben and Jerry’s etc bullet points).  Picking up meditation again should be a cake walk.

My monkey mind has apparently been doing one arm pushups while I was distracted with my other important pursuits. My monkey mind, because even my monkey mind has to be more special than anyone else’s, flings feces, screeches, grooms, and scratches in the most Inappropriate places and at the most Inappropriate times.

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Ideal conditions – seen for approximately 3-4 nano seconds per week

On any given day my monkey  mind is having a party with several friends you wouldn’t consider introducing to your mother, like ever, and my panic monster is running around the room flapping its arms and screaming at the monkeys to calm the fuck down. The rational thinker part is generally sitting crossed legged in the corner focused on my smart phone screen and considering the best Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat posts that would make me look the most clever, witty, intelligent and attractive.

And don’t forget my lofty journalling. I have made some profound insights in my beautiful hand made by a local artist with red and shiny gold bits on recycled paper.

Actual Profound Knowledge Quotes from my journal

  • my bed is super awesome!
  • well I sure fucked that up didn’t I?
  • hey, that think I fucked up? yep, did it again, but better this time
  • I think maybe I procrastinate more than the average bear
  • dammit* (*multiple entries also #dammit, because handwritten hash tagging is a thing, I think, maybe….)
  • people are not behaving, this is irritating
  • Party on Garth
  • Fuckity Fuck Fuckery with a side of Fuckstockings
  • My hair today, wtf? natural-hair-humidity-meme
  • meditation is irritating
  • why the fuck am I doing this to myself?
  • #dammit todo list!
  • developing good habits is a pain in the ass
  • Motherfucking Lord of Middle Aged women! What was I thinking?! ** (**personal fav)
  • 3 responsible things in 1 day – BOOM!
  • Donald Trump, no words
  • Why am I still awake?
  • I did my MF journal and mediation, so am actually a total boss today
  • I may or may not be able to move mañana
  • Spanish, ye gods! (see ** comment)
  • FIVE extra minutes of meditation – fist pump for me!
  • day 3 of not giving fucks about this, yah me.
  • I don’t wanna
  • I might not have approached that in the most mature manner
  • My dog and I have a few things in common it would seemdogs10
  • Do NOT Google ‘asshole yoga’ looking for funny yoga stories (see ** comment)
  • and now for MORE flung feces
  • confirmation bias is actually a thing, like whoa
  • Burning Man….. now there’s a thought

So12919897_1019903358084771_9205901722785851826_n yeah, I’m still figuring this stuff out. And that’s okay. I suppose…. mostly.

 

 

 

Apr2

both ears

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both ears

Self-Portrait-with-Bandaged-Ear-and-Pipe

And I do, have both ears that is, so romantically it’s really not so bad, right?

I went to see “Hello, My Name is Doris” with two friends in sympathetic life situations. Specifically, we are over 50 and in various stages of divorce and dating. These are my movie peeps, also known as the women I see movies with when I’m not being empowered badass and  taking myself to a movie dammit. Right, so the movie. The previews were shamelessly targeting those of us whose love and life situations might involve fantasies about a metaphoric or actual sledgehammers.

Really, I want a sledgehammer. I really, really, really do. I would also like Jake Gyllenhaal to come help me swing it around.

Both movies are about dismantling your life and possibly moving on. Possibly, not happily-ever-after moving on, just the moving on part.

Back to Doris and Van Gogh, who is never actually mentioned directly in the movie, but is used in the Our Love Lives Don’t Suck Too Much comment, “at least we have both ears”. Doris is going through a major life change and developes a crush on a much (30+ years-isn) younger coworker. I spend the movie deciding if I felt empowered, depressed, mortified, embarrassed or simply grateful for both ears.

TWO pairs of glasses

In regards to dating younger men, I’ve been there, but just 16years younger (#ThatWasAwesome). Still, Doris resonated with me. I spent my time oscillating  between ‘insane old lady’ and ’empowered fabulous woman’. I still do.

I spend my work life and much of my leisure time with fabulous 30(ish) yoga teachers and half the time I forget I’m 20 years older or at least pretend no one notices, and half the time I think, what the hell am I doing here? Surely someone will figure out I’m much too old to be doing this sort of thing. The teachers who are my age are in stable married relationships, and then there’s me.

Doris is fun and open and spunky, but her younger friends and coworkers while quite fond of her, describe her as ‘weird, but in a good way’.  And then there’s me.

In the end I will say this about the movie, Sally Field does an amazing job, that and that at least I have both my ears.

Mar18

hamster wheels

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a74e60b5e292e4e15bd3e9430319439cI have a section in my brain where all the crazy thoughts go and spin around faster and faster. It looks exactly like this

I have responsibly roped off this area with bright yellow police tape, and have forbidden myself to go in there when I’m lonely, hungry, tired, upset…. anything but perfectly well adjusted and zen like, which translates to…. let me think… oh right, never.

cd4d95dc92f7eb5783a2f56e2c209cb0Somehow today I magically transported myself into the hamster wheel zone. Not my best work. It has been  unfun. I have been what you might call “unenlightened”, or if you were being more direct “Bat-Shite Crazy”.

and, I didn’t have a snickers bar.
confession – I don’t like snickers bars.
question – does this doom me to a lifetime of being ‘not myself’?

I did have a nap, cookies, and talked things over with Fezzik, until he had to chase a squirrel. That’s as close as I get to a Snickers.