A couple of weeks ago I somewhat unexpectedly found myself unemployed. While it's a temporary loss of income, it's unclear how long it'll be. This left me frantic and stressed and scrambling to find work. Any work. OK, almost any work. Finding something casual and temporary has proved difficult. And while I haven't given up hope, I've realised it's more practical for me to be putting my energy into finding new work in my field, even if it means forgoing an income for a little bit.
As stressful as this has been, having this time has made me realise how badly I needed a break. It's not exactly ideal to be taking a forced, unpaid, break, but, it's made me spend some time taking stock of my life.
Some other things have happened as well, one of those being that I finally let go of a relationship that I'd held on to for too long. You see, I've got a long history of staying in relationships for longer than I should. In fact, if my life was a Country Western song it'd be called 'I should have left you long ago (but I stayed)'.
Walking away wasn't easy (or pretty). It was painful and messy and left me with some things to process. Fortunately for me, I've also got plenty of time to sit and reflect on how I got myself into that mess and why I stayed for so long.
What I realised is, the year before I met my ex was insane. There was so much big life stuff happening, and on top of that lots of ridiculous bullshit stuff that I was responsible for dealing with, that I'd just been surviving in crisis mode. There were health issues, housemate issues, housing issues, relationship issues, family issues, thesis issues, friend issues, work issues, money issues, immigration issues... At baseline my life was pretty stressful, but there was always some additional thing I also had to deal with. And every time I'd overcome whatever calamity had arisen, a new one emerged.
Things were finally starting to settle down for me when I moved into my own place. My housing issues were coming to an end, as were the housemate issues. Work was stabilizing, my income was fairly steady, my health was improving, my thesis was being examined, I had a plan of action for my immigration stuff, my family and friends were alright, and I was single and excited about getting to be single in my own place. I hadn't quite gotten the balance back into my life of focusing on myself, but it was on the horizon.
A week after moving into my new place, I met someone. I hadn't planned on it becoming a thing, I wasn't looking for it to become a thing, but it became a thing. He was handsome and charming and after what had been a very difficult year, a perfect distraction from dealing with my own life.
So I focused on him and on our relationship and for awhile, forgot about myself. It didn't last though, the distracting myself from myself. Once the magic wore off, my life was still a mess and I had the added burden of an unsupportive partner to deal with.
There were some practical reasons for why I stayed longer than I should have. But mostly it was fear. Not fear of being alone; I've been single most of my adult life and know that that's quite a comfortable and fun place for me to be. No, the fear was of having to deal with the mess my life had become. I wanted someone to hold my hand, to tell me it was going to be OK. But what that resulted in was actually me holding myself back.
I've said it before, and I suspect it's a lesson I'm going to keep re-learning for a long time: life is much easier once you let go and just face the fear.
It's been hard. It's been really hard. And it's going to continue to be hard for awhile to come. But having the chance to get back in touch with myself is worth all the hardship that's made it happen. Being forced to take a step back, I feel like I can see clearly again. It's still early days, but I've got a much better sense of what I want for myself and what I don't. I can see the parts of my life that were allowing me to grow, and the things that were holding me back. I am coming up with a plan of action for how I want to live my life now. I am thinking about ways to rebuild that will allow me to have the balance that has so sorely been lacking for far too long.
For starters, I need to get back to writing.
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Monday, March 2, 2015
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
The Q in Alphabet Soup
Apparently yesterday (or today, depending on your time zone) was International Bisexuality Visibility Day. Personally, I'm not a fan of the term 'bisexual' and I cringe every time it's applied to me. It feels dated and incredibly limiting; 'bi' implies a duality and when it comes to gender and sexuality, there are a helluva lot more than two options! Also, I feel like it's an identity that has been co-opted by this fantasy whereby bisexual ladies (and their nubile friends) are seen as eagerly available to fulfill all your sexual desires.
I don't say this to be dissing on any bisexuals. If that's how you prefer to identify, that's up to you. I'd be interested in having a conversation about why bi, though, given that 'queer' and 'pansexual' are also well established options (though I have an uneasy relationship with pansexual too because I feel like it presents all sexual desire as being on an even field and is therefore quite reductionary of sexual desire).
I identify as queer. Queer is something of a catch-all phrase, though not in the way it is often used! While you can say that a lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, intersex, etc identity is a 'queer' identity, each of these categories are identity categories onto themselves - and contain their own plethora of subcultures and ways of being which may or may not be 'queer'. What I'm trying to say is, these categories are overlapping, yes, but distinct. A lesbian is not necessarily queer. And yes, my eye does start to twitch every time I hear someone using the term queer interchangeably with other identity categories in the rainbow flavoured alphabet soup.
The reason that queer is a catch-all phrase, and why I identify with it so strongly, is because it is about a lot more than who you fuck. Sure, that's a part of it, but you can be staunchly heterosexual and still be queer. Queer is about critically engaging with the politics of gender, sexuality, and relationships. For a start. I'd say it's also about engaging with the politics of class and race, but as a middle class white woman whose academic focus has tended to be on other middle class white people, I'm going to leave that discussion for people who actually know what they're talking about. (Sometimes I feel like it's narcissistic to be so focused on deconstructing myself. But, firstly, it's my blog and I'll do what I want with it! And secondly, the only thing I can really claim to be an expert on is myself.)
So, to clarify, I feel that it is incorrect to identify as 'queer' on the sole basis of having sex with someone of the same gender as yourself. Being queer is about challenging 'normativity'. You know, that thing where women and men are supposed to like each other and get married (to each other) and be monogamous and have babies. And that thing where boys and girls look and act in certain ways, and those ways are different from one another. Or, you know, the idea that certain ways of doing or learning or creating are more valid or productive or useful than others.
The reason all this is on my mind as of late is because my life underwent a pretty big change a couple months ago, and it's taken me down a rather unexpected path. My girlfriend and I broke up, and I decided to start seeing men. It's...complicated and I don't fully understand how I went from being adamantly disinterested in men and happily committed to a beautiful woman to falling out of love with said woman and becoming happily uncommitted to some wonderful men. But it happened fast. Or, it didn't. At any rate, the turn around from being devastated about the breakup to being really fucking happy with my life happened incredibly fast.
Have I magically turned straight? No, definitely not. Am I still into women? Yes...no...I don't know. After a 7 year hiatus from men it's just feeling really nice to be in the company of men. This whole thing has left me with more questions than answers, but, for the most part I feel like the answers to the questions I've got are pretty much irrelevant. As long as the answer to the question "Am I happy?" is "Yes." Which it is.
Which is funny, because, for a long time I felt like I couldn't be happy with men. Because 7+ years ago I was really, very unhappy being with men. But... a lot has changed. What I realise now is that it wasn't men, as such, that I was unhappy with, but heteronormativity. The expectation that I would conform to particular ways of being gendered, sexual, and in a relationship did not sit easy for me. Especially in Calgary, which, in case you didn't know, is a very conservative place! Nonconformity isn't exactly encouraged in Calgary.
But, I've spent the better part of past decade gradually developing my queerness and now feel quite comfortable to be myself - in all my normative and non-normative glory - across all my relationships; be they with friends, family, colleagues, lovers, strangers, housemates, or service providers. My relationships with men now are quite different from before. For starters, they occur on my terms or they don't occur at all. I feel quite free, actually. Even more so than when I was just dating women. Because now, other person(s) consenting, I can have whatever kind of relationship I want with whomever I want. My reflections on queering relationships and the problem with monogamy are probably best left for another day though!
I will just say this: I really am happily uncommitted. And I really do feel free. I'm very nearly finished my PhD, and I have absolutely no idea what kind of a journey that's going to take me on. It was wonderful to have a partner for a good chunk of this last push to finish my thesis; I will forever be thankful to my ex for the support she gave me in what was a very difficult and trying period of my life. A lot of the happiness I feel now I owe to her - both for being with me and for breaking up with me. I want to be focused on myself now. I want to be able to pursue whatever interesting opportunities come my way in this next phase of my (professional) life, without having to negotiate that with another person. And I'm very thankful that I get to do that.
I don't say this to be dissing on any bisexuals. If that's how you prefer to identify, that's up to you. I'd be interested in having a conversation about why bi, though, given that 'queer' and 'pansexual' are also well established options (though I have an uneasy relationship with pansexual too because I feel like it presents all sexual desire as being on an even field and is therefore quite reductionary of sexual desire).
I identify as queer. Queer is something of a catch-all phrase, though not in the way it is often used! While you can say that a lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, intersex, etc identity is a 'queer' identity, each of these categories are identity categories onto themselves - and contain their own plethora of subcultures and ways of being which may or may not be 'queer'. What I'm trying to say is, these categories are overlapping, yes, but distinct. A lesbian is not necessarily queer. And yes, my eye does start to twitch every time I hear someone using the term queer interchangeably with other identity categories in the rainbow flavoured alphabet soup.
The reason that queer is a catch-all phrase, and why I identify with it so strongly, is because it is about a lot more than who you fuck. Sure, that's a part of it, but you can be staunchly heterosexual and still be queer. Queer is about critically engaging with the politics of gender, sexuality, and relationships. For a start. I'd say it's also about engaging with the politics of class and race, but as a middle class white woman whose academic focus has tended to be on other middle class white people, I'm going to leave that discussion for people who actually know what they're talking about. (Sometimes I feel like it's narcissistic to be so focused on deconstructing myself. But, firstly, it's my blog and I'll do what I want with it! And secondly, the only thing I can really claim to be an expert on is myself.)
So, to clarify, I feel that it is incorrect to identify as 'queer' on the sole basis of having sex with someone of the same gender as yourself. Being queer is about challenging 'normativity'. You know, that thing where women and men are supposed to like each other and get married (to each other) and be monogamous and have babies. And that thing where boys and girls look and act in certain ways, and those ways are different from one another. Or, you know, the idea that certain ways of doing or learning or creating are more valid or productive or useful than others.
The reason all this is on my mind as of late is because my life underwent a pretty big change a couple months ago, and it's taken me down a rather unexpected path. My girlfriend and I broke up, and I decided to start seeing men. It's...complicated and I don't fully understand how I went from being adamantly disinterested in men and happily committed to a beautiful woman to falling out of love with said woman and becoming happily uncommitted to some wonderful men. But it happened fast. Or, it didn't. At any rate, the turn around from being devastated about the breakup to being really fucking happy with my life happened incredibly fast.
Have I magically turned straight? No, definitely not. Am I still into women? Yes...no...I don't know. After a 7 year hiatus from men it's just feeling really nice to be in the company of men. This whole thing has left me with more questions than answers, but, for the most part I feel like the answers to the questions I've got are pretty much irrelevant. As long as the answer to the question "Am I happy?" is "Yes." Which it is.
Which is funny, because, for a long time I felt like I couldn't be happy with men. Because 7+ years ago I was really, very unhappy being with men. But... a lot has changed. What I realise now is that it wasn't men, as such, that I was unhappy with, but heteronormativity. The expectation that I would conform to particular ways of being gendered, sexual, and in a relationship did not sit easy for me. Especially in Calgary, which, in case you didn't know, is a very conservative place! Nonconformity isn't exactly encouraged in Calgary.
But, I've spent the better part of past decade gradually developing my queerness and now feel quite comfortable to be myself - in all my normative and non-normative glory - across all my relationships; be they with friends, family, colleagues, lovers, strangers, housemates, or service providers. My relationships with men now are quite different from before. For starters, they occur on my terms or they don't occur at all. I feel quite free, actually. Even more so than when I was just dating women. Because now, other person(s) consenting, I can have whatever kind of relationship I want with whomever I want. My reflections on queering relationships and the problem with monogamy are probably best left for another day though!
I will just say this: I really am happily uncommitted. And I really do feel free. I'm very nearly finished my PhD, and I have absolutely no idea what kind of a journey that's going to take me on. It was wonderful to have a partner for a good chunk of this last push to finish my thesis; I will forever be thankful to my ex for the support she gave me in what was a very difficult and trying period of my life. A lot of the happiness I feel now I owe to her - both for being with me and for breaking up with me. I want to be focused on myself now. I want to be able to pursue whatever interesting opportunities come my way in this next phase of my (professional) life, without having to negotiate that with another person. And I'm very thankful that I get to do that.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Life After Thesis
For the past 5 years I've been working on my PhD, which culminates in the writing of an 80,000-100,000 word thesis. A couple of weeks ago I finished writing my thesis. It weighs in (with references and appendices) at just under 92,000 words.
Now, my PhD is by no means complete! The thesis is written, but now my supervisors are reading it and they will give me feedback on what I need to do to improve it. Then I'll do that, send it off to an editor to deal with all the finicky stuff, and submit. Then it gets sent to my examiners who read it and make their comments/suggestions and decide if it passes with major, minor, or no revisions (technically they can say it doesn't pass, but that almost never happens). THEN I have to respond to the comments the examiners make, and once that is satisfactorily completed, I can submit my hard bound thesis to the university and apply to graduate. And then, when I walk across the stage in my funny hat and get my physical degree, you'll all have to call me Dr Joni FOREVER!!! MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
As many of you are aware, the writing of said thesis has left me a tad ... preoccupied. (Other acceptable descriptions include: single-minded, self-centred, miserable, unpleasant company, nonsensical, or bat shit crazy.) It's consumed a lot of my energy, especially in the final pushes to finish it. I haven't had a lot of mental energy to expend upon other things, but, like the Joni Mitchell song says, "you don't know what you've got til it's gone." I thought I was leading a pretty balanced life, until I finished writing my thesis! Suddenly, I had all sorts of anxious mental energy and no outlet to pour it into. I was looking around at my life wildly going "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!?!?!?"
Fortunately for me, in a moment of desperation when I thought my thesis would never end I'd booked myself a week long holiday to Sydney. I turned a corner with the writing process a couple days after booking my flights, and having that upcoming holiday spurred me on to get everything finished so I wouldn't have to have the thesisbeast hanging over my head while I was away. The other benefit of this was, after handing off my thesis I had nothing to do but be anxious about everything. So getting out of town for awhile was a good move. If I'd been in Melbourne I probably would have spiraled into a bad state of mental health. Instead, having nothing in particular to do in a city where I wouldn't have anything in particular to do anyways was a great distraction from the newly formed void in my life. I had quite a lovely time roaming the streets of Sydney, sipping their (inferior) coffee in their very cute cafes, reading books about futuristic dystopias (by far my favourite genre).
When I got back to Melbourne though, I had to face the fact that I didn't have much of anything to do with myself. I mean, I have things. I'm about to start a new job, I've got friends to catch up with, I've got my girlfriend, there's revision work I can do on my thesis, as well as writing articles for publication. But I could also just sit in a corner and stare at a wall and drool all over myself. The pressure to produce something is gone.
Another smart move: I made an appointment to see a counsellor once I got back from Sydney. She said a couple of things that really resonated with me: 1) After working so hard for so long on a single project, letting it go is hard to do and involves some grieving. 2) The thesis becomes such a priority that everything else just gets pushed aside. Now that I'm not working on it, all those things I've pushed aside are popping back up and demanding my attention. And they are not necessarily things I want to give attention to!
I've got some issues to work through, and I've got the support to do that. I find that having my experiences validated actually goes a long way towards relieving my anxiety, so I'm feeling much better than I was about a week ago!
It hasn't been all bad, the stuff that's popped up and demanded my attention. In fact, a lot of it has been exciting and fun! For starters, I thought I was making a lot of time for my relationship with Foxy, but now there's just a whole different quality to that time. And that's been amazing! I'm really pumped to be able to catch up with all my friends again, I've just been hesitating because I'm also aware that I still don't actually have any money. Fortunately, this is now a temporary problem.
One of the things I'm really excited about is that I've actually started to pay attention to my physical body again. I've acquired more than a few PhD injuries over the past few years and now I am starting on the path to recovery. I've got a new program at the gym to help my injuries recover, Brunswick Baths has FINALLY reopened their indoor pool (which is good enough, since I've got a shoulder injury that makes swimming in a 50m pool difficult), I'm doing Pilates, Hubby is going to set me up with a personalised yoga program (since a wrist injury has written me off from my former yoga classes), and tomorrow I'm getting a remedial massage to sort out the rather intense muscle cramping in my legs.
I've started making food for myself again too. Food that involves more than carbs, sugar, and cheese. Food that is actually kinda delicious. I'm remembering flavours and creativity, and that cooking can be enjoyable.
I've also started to consider aesthetics again. Towards the end of the writing process, I rarely looked at myself in the mirror, or brushed my hair, or put much consideration into what my outfit as a whole looked like (all that mattered was if it felt comfortable to sit at a computer for 12 hours in). I'm remembering makeup and starting to wear it again. I've come to really like the way I look without makeup, but I stopped wearing it because it was just a hassle to not be able to rub my computer-bleary eyes, and because I only ever saw the same 10 people anyways and they didn't care. I've started to take pride in my appearance again and the difference is noticeable! I've made friends with nail polish as a fashion accessory, instead of just as a nail-biting deterrent.
Now that the thesis is not front and centre in my life, I'm starting to focus on myself again, or still, but in a different way! In a way that encompasses others. My life is about to begin a new era, so as I make the transition from 'PhD Candidate' to 'PhD', I am using this time to get back in touch with myself and the things that make me happy. Instead of spinning my wheels and worrying about what will be around the next bend, I am preparing myself to be the best version of myself so that I can meet whatever new found challenges await me head on. And look good doing it!
Now, my PhD is by no means complete! The thesis is written, but now my supervisors are reading it and they will give me feedback on what I need to do to improve it. Then I'll do that, send it off to an editor to deal with all the finicky stuff, and submit. Then it gets sent to my examiners who read it and make their comments/suggestions and decide if it passes with major, minor, or no revisions (technically they can say it doesn't pass, but that almost never happens). THEN I have to respond to the comments the examiners make, and once that is satisfactorily completed, I can submit my hard bound thesis to the university and apply to graduate. And then, when I walk across the stage in my funny hat and get my physical degree, you'll all have to call me Dr Joni FOREVER!!! MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
As many of you are aware, the writing of said thesis has left me a tad ... preoccupied. (Other acceptable descriptions include: single-minded, self-centred, miserable, unpleasant company, nonsensical, or bat shit crazy.) It's consumed a lot of my energy, especially in the final pushes to finish it. I haven't had a lot of mental energy to expend upon other things, but, like the Joni Mitchell song says, "you don't know what you've got til it's gone." I thought I was leading a pretty balanced life, until I finished writing my thesis! Suddenly, I had all sorts of anxious mental energy and no outlet to pour it into. I was looking around at my life wildly going "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!?!?!?"
Fortunately for me, in a moment of desperation when I thought my thesis would never end I'd booked myself a week long holiday to Sydney. I turned a corner with the writing process a couple days after booking my flights, and having that upcoming holiday spurred me on to get everything finished so I wouldn't have to have the thesisbeast hanging over my head while I was away. The other benefit of this was, after handing off my thesis I had nothing to do but be anxious about everything. So getting out of town for awhile was a good move. If I'd been in Melbourne I probably would have spiraled into a bad state of mental health. Instead, having nothing in particular to do in a city where I wouldn't have anything in particular to do anyways was a great distraction from the newly formed void in my life. I had quite a lovely time roaming the streets of Sydney, sipping their (inferior) coffee in their very cute cafes, reading books about futuristic dystopias (by far my favourite genre).
When I got back to Melbourne though, I had to face the fact that I didn't have much of anything to do with myself. I mean, I have things. I'm about to start a new job, I've got friends to catch up with, I've got my girlfriend, there's revision work I can do on my thesis, as well as writing articles for publication. But I could also just sit in a corner and stare at a wall and drool all over myself. The pressure to produce something is gone.
Another smart move: I made an appointment to see a counsellor once I got back from Sydney. She said a couple of things that really resonated with me: 1) After working so hard for so long on a single project, letting it go is hard to do and involves some grieving. 2) The thesis becomes such a priority that everything else just gets pushed aside. Now that I'm not working on it, all those things I've pushed aside are popping back up and demanding my attention. And they are not necessarily things I want to give attention to!
I've got some issues to work through, and I've got the support to do that. I find that having my experiences validated actually goes a long way towards relieving my anxiety, so I'm feeling much better than I was about a week ago!
It hasn't been all bad, the stuff that's popped up and demanded my attention. In fact, a lot of it has been exciting and fun! For starters, I thought I was making a lot of time for my relationship with Foxy, but now there's just a whole different quality to that time. And that's been amazing! I'm really pumped to be able to catch up with all my friends again, I've just been hesitating because I'm also aware that I still don't actually have any money. Fortunately, this is now a temporary problem.
One of the things I'm really excited about is that I've actually started to pay attention to my physical body again. I've acquired more than a few PhD injuries over the past few years and now I am starting on the path to recovery. I've got a new program at the gym to help my injuries recover, Brunswick Baths has FINALLY reopened their indoor pool (which is good enough, since I've got a shoulder injury that makes swimming in a 50m pool difficult), I'm doing Pilates, Hubby is going to set me up with a personalised yoga program (since a wrist injury has written me off from my former yoga classes), and tomorrow I'm getting a remedial massage to sort out the rather intense muscle cramping in my legs.
I've started making food for myself again too. Food that involves more than carbs, sugar, and cheese. Food that is actually kinda delicious. I'm remembering flavours and creativity, and that cooking can be enjoyable.
I've also started to consider aesthetics again. Towards the end of the writing process, I rarely looked at myself in the mirror, or brushed my hair, or put much consideration into what my outfit as a whole looked like (all that mattered was if it felt comfortable to sit at a computer for 12 hours in). I'm remembering makeup and starting to wear it again. I've come to really like the way I look without makeup, but I stopped wearing it because it was just a hassle to not be able to rub my computer-bleary eyes, and because I only ever saw the same 10 people anyways and they didn't care. I've started to take pride in my appearance again and the difference is noticeable! I've made friends with nail polish as a fashion accessory, instead of just as a nail-biting deterrent.
Now that the thesis is not front and centre in my life, I'm starting to focus on myself again, or still, but in a different way! In a way that encompasses others. My life is about to begin a new era, so as I make the transition from 'PhD Candidate' to 'PhD', I am using this time to get back in touch with myself and the things that make me happy. Instead of spinning my wheels and worrying about what will be around the next bend, I am preparing myself to be the best version of myself so that I can meet whatever new found challenges await me head on. And look good doing it!
Monday, December 10, 2012
A Place To Call Homo
Often when I write one of these blogs I save it to do a final read over later before publishing. Well! Nearly a month ago I wrote a blog about the stress of house hunting, but as November was the most insanely busy month of my life, by the time I could get back to it we'd already found a place and I had to start packing. And now that I finally am getting back to it, we're all moved in and I've handed over the keys to my old apartment!
So, let me catch you up...
Early on in our friendship, Trouble and I started tossing around the idea of getting a place together. Every now and then we'd look into it, but after a few days of excitement we'd drop our new play thing and get back to our lives. I had decided a while ago that I'd move house at/towards the end of my PhD, and when I chose my last flatmate, a major draw was that she only wanted temporary accommodation. Her boyfriend is overseas, and when he returns they'll be getting a place together. I decided that I would stay on here until he came back, and then find somewhere cheaper to live. Before I left for Canada we talked about when that might be and agreed to move at the start of December.
My plan was to just find a room in an existing share house and sell off all my excess furniture, but of course I let Trouble know that I'd soon be looking for a new place to live. Well! The stars had finally aligned! She was ready to move on from her place too. We started checking out different places online and getting a sense of what we both wanted from our new home (something which has been remarkably easy since we agree on pretty much everything). We're both over the moon about finally getting a place together to make our own little queer, sex positive, clothing optional, clean and tidy, haven!
The original plan was to find a decently sized 3 bedroom house in the inner west, because, such things exist both in abundance and for very cheap. While we've both been really excited about the move, the idea of changing suburbs caused us a fair amount of anxiety. My life is very firmly established in Brunswick; I regularly spend my weekend catching up with people on a whim, something that is easy to do given that almost all my friends live within 3 km of me. Plus I've got my gym, my yoga instructor, my Pilates studio... But a new suburb would invite new adventures, and Trouble was quite keen on moving out west.
I swear to Swimming Pool, it was the moment that I'd finally made peace with the idea of leaving Brunswick that Trouble said to me SHE was really anxious about leaving Brunswick and would much prefer to stay! Well, fuck! Cue the search for an affordable 3 bedroom house in the Brunswick area...
While such houses are abundant out west, they are almost non-existent in Brunswick. Comparatively, they are smaller and more rent than what we would get out west. Of course, that is because even though TuPac claims the west side is the best side, Brunswicked is where it's at! In our search, we came across 3 houses that were only marginally over our budget. The first one we'd found out about too late, the second one was only a block up the street from my apartment, and the third one practically shared a wall with my new girlfriend's house - and she was furious we were even considering it!
When we inspected the second house, Trouble was quite taken with it. I thought it was shabby, run down, and too small and was less than thrilled about it, even though I love the location. Well, it turns out that Joni doesn't know everything! It took us a week to get our application together, but almost as soon as we'd sent it in, the real estate agent rang me up to see if we were still interested. We were approved so fast that I didn't even have a chance to get crazily stressed out about where we would live! We didn't even get around to applying for anywhere else.
We picked up the keys on Dec 1st, which just so happened to be Trouble and I's 1 year friendiversary, and have spent the past 9 days getting ourselves settled into the space. While it is an old house and a bit shabby, it's amazing how the space has transformed once we got our stuff into it! It goes to show that a bit of personality goes a long way! The front bedrooms had really hideous blue feature walls and Trouble suggested we paint them a light grey. I didn't have the time to paint, but she sorted it all out and now the rooms look fantastic!
I've got a bigger room than I had, and as we've got more space in the house, I'm also able to keep less stuff in my bedroom, making the space much more open than I'm used to. I'm resisting the urge to fill it back up with furniture, though the urge is strong! We have a really cute front courtyard, and a bright, jungly rear courtyard with a really productive fig tree. We have a kitchen with enough space to eat in, a separate lounge, and, possibly my favourite bit, a long corridor with 3 rooms: the toilet, the bath/shower, and the laundry room! The house is bright and welcoming but is also quite private. It's much more spacious than I thought it would be. We're still figuring out how best to use the space, but it's gotten to the more finicky stuff like: where best to keep the cleaning supplies and our toiletries.
There is more furniture to get. Trouble and I both need a swag of things from IKEA for our rooms, plus we could do with a few things from Bunnings. We've got to sort out a bigger fridge than the one I have at some point, and get a household internet connection established. We also need some couches for the front, since it's just the perfect space for sipping beers in the evening sun! And we'll get stuff up on the walls, give the house our special blend of pizzazz.
Now, it is a 3 bedroom house, and that means we're looking for a third to join our crew! We've decided that we want to spend December getting ourselves established into the house first, and then January we both have people visiting, so we're not in a big rush to find the third person. There's been some interest and Trouble and I are in talks about what exactly we want in a third housemate, and happily are thus far very much on the same page. Hopefully finding our third will be just as painless as finding our new house was!
For all my initial reluctance about this place, now that I'm in the space, I'm absolutely loving it! I had no sadness about handing in the keys to my old apartment, and I thought that I would. It was actually a big relief when I finished cleaning it and knew I didn't need to go back again. That's probably helped by the fact that it's been on the market for sale and having people through for inspections has been really annoying.
I'm really excited about starting this new chapter of my life. I'm excited for summer, for getting the house set up, for attempting to garden, for Trouble getting us a juicer (!!!), for my family coming to visit, for choosing our third, for finishing my thesis (eventually), for making preserves from the various fruit trees, for just about everything in my life right now really!
So, let me catch you up...
Early on in our friendship, Trouble and I started tossing around the idea of getting a place together. Every now and then we'd look into it, but after a few days of excitement we'd drop our new play thing and get back to our lives. I had decided a while ago that I'd move house at/towards the end of my PhD, and when I chose my last flatmate, a major draw was that she only wanted temporary accommodation. Her boyfriend is overseas, and when he returns they'll be getting a place together. I decided that I would stay on here until he came back, and then find somewhere cheaper to live. Before I left for Canada we talked about when that might be and agreed to move at the start of December.
My plan was to just find a room in an existing share house and sell off all my excess furniture, but of course I let Trouble know that I'd soon be looking for a new place to live. Well! The stars had finally aligned! She was ready to move on from her place too. We started checking out different places online and getting a sense of what we both wanted from our new home (something which has been remarkably easy since we agree on pretty much everything). We're both over the moon about finally getting a place together to make our own little queer, sex positive, clothing optional, clean and tidy, haven!
The original plan was to find a decently sized 3 bedroom house in the inner west, because, such things exist both in abundance and for very cheap. While we've both been really excited about the move, the idea of changing suburbs caused us a fair amount of anxiety. My life is very firmly established in Brunswick; I regularly spend my weekend catching up with people on a whim, something that is easy to do given that almost all my friends live within 3 km of me. Plus I've got my gym, my yoga instructor, my Pilates studio... But a new suburb would invite new adventures, and Trouble was quite keen on moving out west.
I swear to Swimming Pool, it was the moment that I'd finally made peace with the idea of leaving Brunswick that Trouble said to me SHE was really anxious about leaving Brunswick and would much prefer to stay! Well, fuck! Cue the search for an affordable 3 bedroom house in the Brunswick area...
While such houses are abundant out west, they are almost non-existent in Brunswick. Comparatively, they are smaller and more rent than what we would get out west. Of course, that is because even though TuPac claims the west side is the best side, Brunswicked is where it's at! In our search, we came across 3 houses that were only marginally over our budget. The first one we'd found out about too late, the second one was only a block up the street from my apartment, and the third one practically shared a wall with my new girlfriend's house - and she was furious we were even considering it!
When we inspected the second house, Trouble was quite taken with it. I thought it was shabby, run down, and too small and was less than thrilled about it, even though I love the location. Well, it turns out that Joni doesn't know everything! It took us a week to get our application together, but almost as soon as we'd sent it in, the real estate agent rang me up to see if we were still interested. We were approved so fast that I didn't even have a chance to get crazily stressed out about where we would live! We didn't even get around to applying for anywhere else.
We picked up the keys on Dec 1st, which just so happened to be Trouble and I's 1 year friendiversary, and have spent the past 9 days getting ourselves settled into the space. While it is an old house and a bit shabby, it's amazing how the space has transformed once we got our stuff into it! It goes to show that a bit of personality goes a long way! The front bedrooms had really hideous blue feature walls and Trouble suggested we paint them a light grey. I didn't have the time to paint, but she sorted it all out and now the rooms look fantastic!
I've got a bigger room than I had, and as we've got more space in the house, I'm also able to keep less stuff in my bedroom, making the space much more open than I'm used to. I'm resisting the urge to fill it back up with furniture, though the urge is strong! We have a really cute front courtyard, and a bright, jungly rear courtyard with a really productive fig tree. We have a kitchen with enough space to eat in, a separate lounge, and, possibly my favourite bit, a long corridor with 3 rooms: the toilet, the bath/shower, and the laundry room! The house is bright and welcoming but is also quite private. It's much more spacious than I thought it would be. We're still figuring out how best to use the space, but it's gotten to the more finicky stuff like: where best to keep the cleaning supplies and our toiletries.
There is more furniture to get. Trouble and I both need a swag of things from IKEA for our rooms, plus we could do with a few things from Bunnings. We've got to sort out a bigger fridge than the one I have at some point, and get a household internet connection established. We also need some couches for the front, since it's just the perfect space for sipping beers in the evening sun! And we'll get stuff up on the walls, give the house our special blend of pizzazz.
Now, it is a 3 bedroom house, and that means we're looking for a third to join our crew! We've decided that we want to spend December getting ourselves established into the house first, and then January we both have people visiting, so we're not in a big rush to find the third person. There's been some interest and Trouble and I are in talks about what exactly we want in a third housemate, and happily are thus far very much on the same page. Hopefully finding our third will be just as painless as finding our new house was!
For all my initial reluctance about this place, now that I'm in the space, I'm absolutely loving it! I had no sadness about handing in the keys to my old apartment, and I thought that I would. It was actually a big relief when I finished cleaning it and knew I didn't need to go back again. That's probably helped by the fact that it's been on the market for sale and having people through for inspections has been really annoying.
I'm really excited about starting this new chapter of my life. I'm excited for summer, for getting the house set up, for attempting to garden, for Trouble getting us a juicer (!!!), for my family coming to visit, for choosing our third, for finishing my thesis (eventually), for making preserves from the various fruit trees, for just about everything in my life right now really!
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
A Decade In Reflection
Hello Readers!
First off, my last blog about slut shaming has gotten a really awesome response, so THANK YOU to everyone who read it and to everyone who has since given me food for thought on the topic. I've been having heaps of really engaging conversations/debates on this topic and readings lots of other blogs and am really excited to continue exploring this issue!!! I've had about a million different thoughts and ideas for blog posts and I look forward to having the time to develop those.
But for now, I'd like to talk about something else: on Friday I am turning 30. I'm actually really excited about this. Maybe because this big life milestone is also lining up with other big life milestones... I've almost finished my thesis! Not only that, but my life has actually become the thing that I've always wanted it to be. I am independent, I lead an interesting life, and I am surrounded by people who love and respect me for who I am - flaws and all. And that's pretty fucking awesome!
I've been reflecting on the past ten years and the strange twists and turns my life has taken, wondering what 20 year old Joni would think if she knew where she'd end up in 10 years time. I doubt she'd ever have thought she'd end up with the dubious (*ahem* self-appointed) title of "Australia's leading expert on how to use social media to be a douche in intimate relationships" but I bet she wouldn't be all that surprised either. I've always wanted to be a cyborg.
The one thing that 20 year old Joni wanted so much for herself was to be a fiercely-independent-world-travelling-trend-setter. I reckon I've done her proud. I was thinking about this recently, what with my big trip back to Canada coming up. In the past 10 years - that is, 120 months - I have only lived in Calgary for 43 months, and a total of 55 months in Canada. I've lived in Ottawa, Amsterdam, and Melbourne. I've travelled to Thailand, Belgium, France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Poland, England, Portugal, Czech Republic, the USA, Peru, and South Korea. I haven't made it back to Africa or Japan, but that just gives me something to do in my 30s.
My 20s weren't all good; I struggled with depression for most of them. But now I have the knowledge and the tools to manage it, and it no longer rules my life. Not only do I know that 'it gets better', I know how to make it better. I'm very thankful to have so many supportive friends who are there for me when I need them. But I'm also very thankful to myself, for all the hard work I've put in to making my life what it is now. I hear people say sometimes "Oh, you're so lucky to have all these opportunities." Well... yeah, some of the things I've gotten to do with my life have been because I'm lucky enough to have rather a lot of social privilege. But I've also taken that privilege and worked really fucking hard to do something productive with it!
It's funny, so many people get freaked out about turning 30, but it just fills me with joy. I feel more youthful now than I think I actually ever have. And that's because I feel free.
When I was younger I felt like there would be all these unpleasant consequences to just being myself and living my life how I wanted to live it... I think a lot of people feel like there is a particular 'script' that they are meant to follow and that bad things will happen if they don't. But you know what? The bad things happen when you try to live a life that you don't want for yourself. Yeah, it can be hard to go against the grain. Yeah, probably a lot of people will want you to justify yourself to them. But really, you've only got to justify your actions to yourself. If you're happy with yourself and how you act towards others, then who cares what anyone else thinks? And if you're not happy, then what are you going to do to change that?
I understand that expression now: "If only I knew what I know now when I was younger..." I don't want to go back in time and sit down and impart younger Joni with this knowledge though. She wouldn't listen anyways; she likes to figure things out for herself. I get that. I think if I could sit down with my younger self and tell her one thing, I'd tell her that I respect her for that. She'd like that. I have a lot of respect for the person that I was, because she made me into the person that I am today. And I really like that person. A lot!
First off, my last blog about slut shaming has gotten a really awesome response, so THANK YOU to everyone who read it and to everyone who has since given me food for thought on the topic. I've been having heaps of really engaging conversations/debates on this topic and readings lots of other blogs and am really excited to continue exploring this issue!!! I've had about a million different thoughts and ideas for blog posts and I look forward to having the time to develop those.
But for now, I'd like to talk about something else: on Friday I am turning 30. I'm actually really excited about this. Maybe because this big life milestone is also lining up with other big life milestones... I've almost finished my thesis! Not only that, but my life has actually become the thing that I've always wanted it to be. I am independent, I lead an interesting life, and I am surrounded by people who love and respect me for who I am - flaws and all. And that's pretty fucking awesome!
I've been reflecting on the past ten years and the strange twists and turns my life has taken, wondering what 20 year old Joni would think if she knew where she'd end up in 10 years time. I doubt she'd ever have thought she'd end up with the dubious (*ahem* self-appointed) title of "Australia's leading expert on how to use social media to be a douche in intimate relationships" but I bet she wouldn't be all that surprised either. I've always wanted to be a cyborg.
The one thing that 20 year old Joni wanted so much for herself was to be a fiercely-independent-world-travelling-trend-setter. I reckon I've done her proud. I was thinking about this recently, what with my big trip back to Canada coming up. In the past 10 years - that is, 120 months - I have only lived in Calgary for 43 months, and a total of 55 months in Canada. I've lived in Ottawa, Amsterdam, and Melbourne. I've travelled to Thailand, Belgium, France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Poland, England, Portugal, Czech Republic, the USA, Peru, and South Korea. I haven't made it back to Africa or Japan, but that just gives me something to do in my 30s.
My 20s weren't all good; I struggled with depression for most of them. But now I have the knowledge and the tools to manage it, and it no longer rules my life. Not only do I know that 'it gets better', I know how to make it better. I'm very thankful to have so many supportive friends who are there for me when I need them. But I'm also very thankful to myself, for all the hard work I've put in to making my life what it is now. I hear people say sometimes "Oh, you're so lucky to have all these opportunities." Well... yeah, some of the things I've gotten to do with my life have been because I'm lucky enough to have rather a lot of social privilege. But I've also taken that privilege and worked really fucking hard to do something productive with it!
It's funny, so many people get freaked out about turning 30, but it just fills me with joy. I feel more youthful now than I think I actually ever have. And that's because I feel free.
When I was younger I felt like there would be all these unpleasant consequences to just being myself and living my life how I wanted to live it... I think a lot of people feel like there is a particular 'script' that they are meant to follow and that bad things will happen if they don't. But you know what? The bad things happen when you try to live a life that you don't want for yourself. Yeah, it can be hard to go against the grain. Yeah, probably a lot of people will want you to justify yourself to them. But really, you've only got to justify your actions to yourself. If you're happy with yourself and how you act towards others, then who cares what anyone else thinks? And if you're not happy, then what are you going to do to change that?
I understand that expression now: "If only I knew what I know now when I was younger..." I don't want to go back in time and sit down and impart younger Joni with this knowledge though. She wouldn't listen anyways; she likes to figure things out for herself. I get that. I think if I could sit down with my younger self and tell her one thing, I'd tell her that I respect her for that. She'd like that. I have a lot of respect for the person that I was, because she made me into the person that I am today. And I really like that person. A lot!
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| crazy thesis eye + orange chocolate mud cake |
Monday, November 7, 2011
The Final Frontier
As those of you who have been following my blog over the past year will know, I have been on a pretty intense journey of self-transformation. There have been lots of first, lots of triumphs, and a few injuries along the way (but my stories about Greta are for another blog on another day). If through some crazy loop in the space-time continuum someone was to meet the me of now and the me of four years ago (the me excitedly preparing to blow that Popsicle stand called Calgary for a new life down under), I wonder if they would recognise us as the same person? I know I would, because I know that who I am today is who I always have been. I'm just no longer holding myself, or letting anyone else hold me, back.
I like to compare myself to Kanye West, and while he describes himself as the illest motherfucker alive, over the years I have earned my street cred as the stubbornest motherfucker alive. When I made my mind up about something, that was that! Logic played no part in this; it was sheer bloody mindedness. I will admit to you now that there were many, many, many times where I thought: "Damn, I wish I could ride a bike!", "That trout looks really yummy.", "What does steak taste like, anyways?"
I like to compare myself to Kanye West, and while he describes himself as the illest motherfucker alive, over the years I have earned my street cred as the stubbornest motherfucker alive. When I made my mind up about something, that was that! Logic played no part in this; it was sheer bloody mindedness. I will admit to you now that there were many, many, many times where I thought: "Damn, I wish I could ride a bike!", "That trout looks really yummy.", "What does steak taste like, anyways?"
The irony in all of this is that while I was so determined to hold on to these ridiculous battalions of stubbornness, because nobody could tell me what to do, I was unquestioningly living my life by the standards and expectations of other people. For instance, up until the age of 26 I'd never questioned that I would one day get married (to some guy) and have kids, even though the thought of doing so filled me with absolute terror. I still remember the exact moment when I decided that I could choose not to do those things. I could take you to the exact spot I was standing as that wave of relief hit me.
Since that moment, bit by bit, I have been calling every single thing about my 'self' into question. It was slow and cautious at first, but now I am quite used to turning my world upside down and inside out. Now when the chance for some new moment of self-discovery comes my way I just shrug and say "Why not?" After all, how can you really know yourself unless you actively explore all the possibilities of what you could be? Like just the other day, I was hungry and I wanted to know if I liked fish and chips... So I went and bought myself some fish and chips (and they were delicious)!
An interesting side note to this self-discovery business: while that mostly means saying yes to new experiences, it can just as importantly be about saying no to old experiences. Discovering what your life could be like without something or someone is a lot more challenging, but you inevitably discover so much more about yourself this way. But again, that's now what I want to talk about in this blog post.
I am notoriously known for two streaks of stubbornness: refusing to learn how to ride a bike, and refusing to eat red meat. I've discussed my bike riding in previous blogs, and I promise to give you all the full scoop on my adventures with Greta soon. But right now, I want to talk about my long lived reputation as a 'fussy eater'.
At the tender age of 3 I declared that I would not eat red meat. And that was the end of that. My family tried, repeatedly, for many years, to get me to try it. But no. My mind was made up and nothing they did was going to change it. Eventually they gave up on trying to force me and settled for subtle nagging. We all endeared many family dinners where some alternate dish was prepared for me, and some stink was made about how I refused to eat like a normal person. (I wouldn't really know about being a 'normal' person, but it sounds terribly overrated!) Interestingly, when I decided to become a vegetarian, the label of 'fussy eater' seemed to disappear. And I certainly was more adventurous in my eating as a vegetarian than I had been as a meat eater.
At the tender age of 3 I declared that I would not eat red meat. And that was the end of that. My family tried, repeatedly, for many years, to get me to try it. But no. My mind was made up and nothing they did was going to change it. Eventually they gave up on trying to force me and settled for subtle nagging. We all endeared many family dinners where some alternate dish was prepared for me, and some stink was made about how I refused to eat like a normal person. (I wouldn't really know about being a 'normal' person, but it sounds terribly overrated!) Interestingly, when I decided to become a vegetarian, the label of 'fussy eater' seemed to disappear. And I certainly was more adventurous in my eating as a vegetarian than I had been as a meat eater.
I was a vegetarian for 7 years. And then... I can imagine how from certain perspectives it would have looked like I was changing myself for someone else, but that was not at all what happened. My decision to become a vegetarian had always been about needing to change my lifestyle to eat healthier. It had been the right decision for a long time. But it was a decision I had also been questioning for a long time. Even before I got onto my whole fitness kick, I questioned whether vegetarianism still held any real relevance for my life. I quietly debated ending my vegetarianism for a good two years before that fateful chicken burger earlier this year. People have asked me if the transition from vegetarian to meat eater was difficult. I thought it would be, but it was not. My body was craving meat, and when I gave in to those cravings, my body was happy! I've felt great, I've had more energy, and I'm not quite as pale anymore.
What's been interesting for me is how my relationship to meat has changed. Before I became a vegetarian, I was very finicky about what meat I would and would not eat. I didn't like handling meat, and if I didn't know for sure what I was eating, chances were, I wasn't going to eat it. When I started eating meat again, I was finicky at first. But I asked myself why, and realised it was out of habit and not actually out of any sort of queasiness about eating meat.
You see, pre-vegetarianism eating meat was not something I had chosen to do; it was simply the assumed default position (much like heterosexuality). When I decided to start eating meat again after 7 years of vegetarianism, it was a very conscious choice. I was choosing to eat animals. I was choosing to eat the flesh of another living creature. I was OK with this. So why would chopping raw meat bother me? Why would a vein gross me out? When I thought about it like that, it stopped bothering me.
Which then got me thinking... what's my beef with beef?
I know that when I was 3 I declared that I did not like the taste of red meat, but that was 26 years ago and well, a lot has changed!! I wanted to try red meat, but was not willing to purchase it on my own in case I actually didn't like it (after all, I am still a broke ass student). Then on Friday, the opportunity presented itself and I pounced!
It was a friend's birthday, and a bunch of us went out for dinner at a rather delightful pan-Asian restaurant called Rice Queen. Being a broke ass student, I have not actually gone out for dinner at many restaurants in Melbourne. Rice Queen made me realize that I will need to remedy this the moment I have a real income. It was just such a cool place, with amazing cocktails and great food. We ordered entrees to share, one of which was duck pancakes. Pre-vegetarianism, duck was on my long list of meats I didn't eat. From what I'd heard about it, it didn't sound like the most appetising of meats. But there it was, and there I was. So I made myself a duck pancake and you know what? It was pretty tasty! It wouldn't be my first choice, but if someone was serving something with duck in it, I would give it a go.
When it came time to order mains, I was flummoxed. I wanted to order the Vietnamese salad, which you could get with beef or tofu. I wanted to try beef, but I wanted to order the tofu. And then... one of the other women said she was contemplating the beef salad. So I proposed a trade: she order the beef, I order the tofu, and we do a swap. She accepted!
As you can probably tell from the look on my face, I didn't love it. But, I didn't hate it either. When it first hit my mouth, I thought it was quite good. But then it was a bit grizzly and kind of bland. Which is exactly how I remember beef tasting from those occasions when some would get slipped into my food. I don't foresee me ordering any steaks in the near future, but, I am willing to give beef in other varieties a go. I also want to try other kinds of red meat, particularly kangaroo. If I happen to like the taste of kangaroo, it would be easy to integrate into my diet. I definitely like the idea of eating a wild animal that exists in abundance more than an animal that is farmed (and over bred) specifically for food. The beef industry does not sit well with me, and I don't imagine that's going to change any time soon, even if I do suddenly really start liking the taste of beef.
So there you have it. I finally ate beef. That last battalion of stubbornness has been torn down!
What's been interesting for me is how my relationship to meat has changed. Before I became a vegetarian, I was very finicky about what meat I would and would not eat. I didn't like handling meat, and if I didn't know for sure what I was eating, chances were, I wasn't going to eat it. When I started eating meat again, I was finicky at first. But I asked myself why, and realised it was out of habit and not actually out of any sort of queasiness about eating meat.
You see, pre-vegetarianism eating meat was not something I had chosen to do; it was simply the assumed default position (much like heterosexuality). When I decided to start eating meat again after 7 years of vegetarianism, it was a very conscious choice. I was choosing to eat animals. I was choosing to eat the flesh of another living creature. I was OK with this. So why would chopping raw meat bother me? Why would a vein gross me out? When I thought about it like that, it stopped bothering me.
Which then got me thinking... what's my beef with beef?
I know that when I was 3 I declared that I did not like the taste of red meat, but that was 26 years ago and well, a lot has changed!! I wanted to try red meat, but was not willing to purchase it on my own in case I actually didn't like it (after all, I am still a broke ass student). Then on Friday, the opportunity presented itself and I pounced!
It was a friend's birthday, and a bunch of us went out for dinner at a rather delightful pan-Asian restaurant called Rice Queen. Being a broke ass student, I have not actually gone out for dinner at many restaurants in Melbourne. Rice Queen made me realize that I will need to remedy this the moment I have a real income. It was just such a cool place, with amazing cocktails and great food. We ordered entrees to share, one of which was duck pancakes. Pre-vegetarianism, duck was on my long list of meats I didn't eat. From what I'd heard about it, it didn't sound like the most appetising of meats. But there it was, and there I was. So I made myself a duck pancake and you know what? It was pretty tasty! It wouldn't be my first choice, but if someone was serving something with duck in it, I would give it a go.
When it came time to order mains, I was flummoxed. I wanted to order the Vietnamese salad, which you could get with beef or tofu. I wanted to try beef, but I wanted to order the tofu. And then... one of the other women said she was contemplating the beef salad. So I proposed a trade: she order the beef, I order the tofu, and we do a swap. She accepted!
And so, for the first time in 26 years...
I. Ate. Beef.
As you can probably tell from the look on my face, I didn't love it. But, I didn't hate it either. When it first hit my mouth, I thought it was quite good. But then it was a bit grizzly and kind of bland. Which is exactly how I remember beef tasting from those occasions when some would get slipped into my food. I don't foresee me ordering any steaks in the near future, but, I am willing to give beef in other varieties a go. I also want to try other kinds of red meat, particularly kangaroo. If I happen to like the taste of kangaroo, it would be easy to integrate into my diet. I definitely like the idea of eating a wild animal that exists in abundance more than an animal that is farmed (and over bred) specifically for food. The beef industry does not sit well with me, and I don't imagine that's going to change any time soon, even if I do suddenly really start liking the taste of beef.
So there you have it. I finally ate beef. That last battalion of stubbornness has been torn down!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The Beginning of The End
Don't waste your time fighting the line
State your course and you'll understand
- Jay-Z
I remember last year I was really anxious about turning 28 and what this year would hold in store for me. I knew it was going to be a challenging year, and whether it was obvious or not, this time last year I was really freaking out about how I was going to manage. But looking back at the past year... it kind of blows my mind how much I've changed, how much I've grown, how much I've learnt about myself.
Not too long ago my flatmate and I were reflecting on our lives and how different (read: better) our late 20's have been from our early 20's. Thinking about how 28 has been for me, I had mixed feelings about the year. But as my flatmate said, "I think you'll look back on this year as a time when some really positive changes started to happen in your life."
And it's true! For starters, I've lost 20kg in the past year. I ran my first 5km race, and now I'm training for a 10km race. I finished my data collection, completely lost interest in my PhD, then fell utterly in love with it again and now want to build my future career on the research I am doing now. I've healed my relationships with my parents a lot, and I've gotten to reconnect with my siblings as adults, which is nothing short of awesome! My professional skills are starting to be recognized in the form of gainful employment and mentoring...
It hasn't all been fun times and kicking ass though. I had a very stupid fight with a friend, and while we've reconciled now, I regret that I became the kind of person who would let that happen. One of the things I've realized over the past year is that friendship is something I value very dearly. I get along well with most people, but it's rare to find someone who I can truly call a friend. And while there are some people back in Canada who I feel like I've gotten closer with this past year, I've felt a lot of disconnect with my friends here in Melbourne. And given that I live in Melbourne, that is hardly an ideal situation! Then there are the incredible grey areas... Breaking up with Lady Cop, twice, is hardly my idea of a good time. But then, a lot of good has come out of it. A lot of good, and a lot of change, and according to a psychic we went to, change is always a good thing.
I started this blog with a lyric from my current favourite hip-hop song, Blue Magic. The reason this song resonates so much with me right now is that, like so much of Jay-Z's music, it's about coming out of tough times on top. Jay-Z is an absolute inspiration to me. This is a man who came from a situation where nobody expected him to amount to anything, but he always knew better. His intellect, his insight into the way the world works, and the way he so simply yet cleverly lays it out, it's pure beauty to me. This is a man who has been, and who I am sure continues to be, under estimated. A lot of people who get under estimated get this attitude like they've got something to prove to the world, but not Jay-Z. He knows what he is capable of, he knows how good he is, and he knows the world is never really going to get it. But instead of trying to make the world sit up and take notice, he just goes about living his life, doing his thing, absolutely on his own terms, whether the world notices or not. I find that absolutely admirable. Especially because as he's always known his own worth, he's always managed to have control over his career.
Which brings me back to the lyric I opened with. We all come into the world in a particular context: in a particular moment in history, in a particular socioeconomic status, in a particular family, in a particular part of the world. We can't change those things; we've got to play the cards that we're dealt. How we play them though, is up to us. There's no point trying to fight the things that are outside of our control. We are much better off to accept whatever circumstances we are in and focus on how we're going to work with whatever we've got to make the best of the situation we're in.
I've been thinking a lot as my birthday has approached about what my circumstances are, and what I can do about it. And this is the thing: when Lady Cop and I were together, I was fighting the line; I wasn't focusing on myself and my own abilities, and while I thought I was maneuvering myself onto a better course by relying on someone else, I was actually making things a lot more difficult for myself. What inspires me about Jay-Z is how clearly he manages to stay on his course, even with other people in his life. I mean, Beyonce is a mega-superstar with her own career and life goals and all of that. She is an amazing woman and an amazing catch, and I know a lot of people would think that if she snaps her fingers, he'd better come a-running. But no! It's not like that at all. He knows that she's incredible, but he also knows he's awesome personified too. Being with her doesn't change his course. He's still going to do what's right for him.
I want to be the kind of person that can say "You're awesome, I want to be with you, but this is my life and I am living it this way, whether you're in it or not." This is the biggest lesson I have learnt over the past year, and it's been a hard lesson to learn. Compromise is important in relationships, sure, but it is different from going off course with your own life.
So I'm not fighting the line; I've stated my course, and I understand.
What does that mean for my 29th year? Finishing my PhD is my number one priority. But I have to be realistic: my candidature expires in 6 months, and especially given that I now have to engage in paid work to survive and that I want my PhD to launch my future career, I need more than 6 months to finish. So I have decided to extend my candidature by 6 months, which means taking out student loans and paying tuition. I will submit my thesis before my 30th birthday!!! And while I do still want to continue losing weight, right now I am happy with my body. I like my fitness regime; it's not as hardcore as previous ones, but it's enough to continue improving my fitness and toning my body without having to be obsessive about what I eat, while having the flexibility to allow my PhD to take priority. Having a social life is vital to my well-being, so I am actively making new friends and reconnecting with old ones. For reasons that unfortunately stopped being relevant too late to change anything, my flatmate is moving out and someone new will be coming in (tbd, don't want to jinx it, not talking about it until it's in the past).
Tomorrow is a fresh start. From here on in, I'm running the show.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
FINISH
Oh yeah, look at me go! My official time was 35:08, which I am very proud of! My name was in the paper and everything. That's pretty darn good for someone who decided to start running on a whim 3 weeks prior to the race.
So what's next? Well, to quote Jay-Z it's "on to the next one." I am planning on running the 10k leg of the Melbourne Marathon in October. Even though it starts at 7:30am on a Sunday. (Who does that? Honestly!) I'm using this Couch to 5k app that one of my colleagues informed me about to train. It's good, even though I'm not exactly the demographic it's targeting. I'm using it to build up my speed. It starts off with lots of walking and short bursts of running, so now I'm sprinting around the dog park. In the rain and the cold in the early hours of the morning. I think I'm going to enjoy running a whole lot more come summer!
As for my bike, I've got some money set aside for it, but I'm still going to be saving up my pennies for awhile. A friend of mine offered me the use of her bike, so I went up to hers yesterday to check it out. Unfortunately, as she is rather a lot taller than me, any attempt at stopping would mean getting all too familiar with her bike. It was nice of her to offer though.
I've called this blog FINISH because from here on in, that's what I'm all about! As you probably won't recall (unless you follow my blog religiously, which would be creepy and weird) in exactly one month from today my scholarship - and hence my financial security - ends. Also, in exactly one month from today, I turn 29. So, yay? And I have exactly 7 months from today to hand in my PhD. To all of this, all I can say is fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
Look, there's not much I can do about it but go with it. I've got a tutoring job this semester, which I am really super excited about, and I've got a bit of extra casual work on the go. As long as the work doesn't dry up, financially I'll be fine (I may even be better off considering I make a helluva lot more working than on a scholarship). The tricky bit is that there are limits on my visa to how many hours I can work, and as I can't study part time the only way to extend my candidature is to suspend my study and leave the country for awhile. And while a trip to the motherland would be quite nice, I have very little desire to spend my Australian summer in a Canadian winter.
So right now it's all about finding a balance between making enough money to survive, spending enough time studying to finish on time, and having enough down time to not go completely insane. I have already started making some changes to my life to prepare for my upcoming leap from the frying pan into the fire. I've got a rough 7 months ahead of me, but hey, I kick all sorts of ass, so there's no reason why I can't kick this challenge's ass too.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Waiting On My Spaceship
Lately I've had a lot of people telling me that, essentially, I'm amazing. Losing 26kg doesn't go unnoticed, or, if it does, you've seriously got to question who the people in your life are. And it's really nice to hear! I've spent a lot of time in my life being told I'm not good enough, so to have people tell me I'm inspiring, it feels pretty freggin' good. Yesterday I was at the gym and my personal trainer came up to me and told me that I'm doing amazing, and that even the other members were commenting on how well I'm doing. I mean, that's pretty awesome!
The only down side to this new found attention and admiration is that sometimes people just don't get it. These are the people who ask me how I've manged to lose so much weight and when I say, "I work really hard, every day" they just look at me blankly. Then they usually say how they wish they could lose weight too and start listing off a bunch of excuses for why they can't. I've never had a lot of patience for people's excuses. I was once at a craft store looking to buy a photo album for my pictures of my trip to Peru, and the sales associate said to me that she wished she could travel but she's got family, you know how it is. To which I dead pan replied: "Well, we've all got priorities." She didn't take that comment too kindly, which really is the stupidest thing of all because it's absolutely the truth: we've all got priorities. And for her, whatever "I've got family, you know how it is" means is more of a priority than travelling.
It's the same with weight loss and fitness. If you want to do it, you've got to make it a priority in your life. It doesn't necessarily have to be your #1 priority, but I reckon that if you're serious about it, it needs to be one of your top 5 priorities. Otherwise, it's not going to happen. You don't go to sleep every night wishing you could be something other than what you are, only to wake up one morning and find yourself magically transformed. Changing yourself takes hard work! The kind of hard work that I've seen hard working, motivated and determined people shy away from.
But here's the thing: yeah, it's really hard to transform yourself in some way. It doesn't stay hard though. It's not always a grueling process, and you don't always question why the hell you're putting yourself through the process. That's just how it starts. If you keep going with it, it really does get easier. And yes, that generally means it's time to challenge yourself harder, but you know what? Those challenges get easier to take on too.
A year ago if you had told me I had 3 weeks to train myself to run 5km, I would have probably spurted a fair number of obscenities at you. But today, I'm a week away from the race and in this morning's training session I ran 4 of my 5km, and then went to yoga, and have felt strong and energetic all day. It is a challenge to run 5km, but it's no longer a big one.
After I complete Run Melbourne, I am going to continue running. I'm not very fast, and I'd like to get fast. But for now I'm working on building up my strength so that I can run without injuring myself (the new shoes are making a world of difference on that front). I guess that's the thing that some people don't really understand: you can't just roll out of bed one morning and be able to do something you've never done before. You've got to work towards it. And that generally means taking the larger goal and breaking it down into smaller goals. Eventually, I'll be able to run fast because that is something that I want to accomplish and I am actively working towards it. In the meantime, I'm pretty damn stoked at myself for completing today's 5km run in 0:38:15. Since I'm no longer completely ceasing up and in pain after running, I'll be doing a lot of running this week to prepare myself for next Sunday's race.
There is something else frustrating about self transformation that I am probably more sympathetic about: it takes a lot of time. I'm not exactly known to be a patient person, so I definitely get the frustration at the fact that you can't just decide to work at something and accomplish it straight away. I certainly have learned to be a helluva lot more patient through my fitness journey - or at least to be patient with myself. I've stuck with it long enough to know that I will get the results I want if I keep at it, and that helps a lot. Because there are absolutely times where I just want to go full tilt into something, but I can't. Like with swimming. One spectacular day I beat my best time by 2 minutes. It was amazing! That was a month ago and all I've managed to do since is match my second best time, and that was with a great deal of effort.
Changing yourself involves taking a lot of baby steps, or at least it does if you want it to be lasting change. Which is what I have to remind myself of on a pretty regular basis, because I've secretly wanted to be this hard core athletic person for most of my life. And now that I'm closer than I've ever been to obtaining it, it can be really frustrating to think how much further I still have to go. But I'll get there, and I know that. I've worked way too hard and come way too close to accomplishing my goal to stop now!!
This might be a weird tangent to go on, but in my head the link makes sense. I was talking to one of my dearest and oldest friends this weekend about the trials and tribulations of life. Though me and her have different belief systems, we both think about our lives as constituting a narrative: we are the heroines of stories that someone else is writing. Maybe because we are both writers ourselves, we both struggle with the fact that we're not in on the plot line. It's like Stranger Than Fiction: we know that we are in a story, we know that someone else is telling the story, and we're not too happy about not having control over the outcome of the story.
I've been thinking about this a lot since our conversation, though I've thought about it a lot before then too. I absolutely believe that there is some greater force beyond myself that is, to some extent, directing my life. I'm just very reluctant to put a name to what that force may be and very hostile to the idea that somehow this force could be summed up through any one particular belief system (hence why the thought of being part of a religion makes me hiss and spit, and also why I find atheism incredibly reductionist). That being said, it's not like this force has complete control over what we do and that everything in our lives are predetermined. That's just ridiculous! Why would whatever force of the universe there may or may not be bother with having sentient life if only to predetermine every move they make? (Unless, of course, we aren't really sentient...)
I like to think about my life narrative as being of the choose-your-own-adventure variety. Of course, instead of having two choices to pick between to move the story forward, we sometimes can have infinite choices. I think about the mysterious workings of fate like a choose-your-own-adventure book because in those books, invariably there are certain events that you will end up at regardless of what path you take. That doesn't make the journey to those events pointless; quite the opposite! The journey we take to that destination will affect the decisions we make and the next path we take. The journey is, in fact, much more important than the destination.
The two of us are both dealing with one story line ending and the frustration of not knowing where the story is going to go from there. What I have learnt on my various journeys is that life will continue going on, no matter what, and that in time, a new plot line will reveal itself. So, as we both wait for that storyline where we get to enact our own version of Bridesmaids (great movie btw) we've got other story lines in our lives to develop. And who knows where the journey those take us on will lead?
Since my life story can essentially be told through Kanye West songs (seriously), I'll let Mr. West take us out again!
I don't ever wanna go back there so imma be taking no days off until my spaceship takes off.
The only down side to this new found attention and admiration is that sometimes people just don't get it. These are the people who ask me how I've manged to lose so much weight and when I say, "I work really hard, every day" they just look at me blankly. Then they usually say how they wish they could lose weight too and start listing off a bunch of excuses for why they can't. I've never had a lot of patience for people's excuses. I was once at a craft store looking to buy a photo album for my pictures of my trip to Peru, and the sales associate said to me that she wished she could travel but she's got family, you know how it is. To which I dead pan replied: "Well, we've all got priorities." She didn't take that comment too kindly, which really is the stupidest thing of all because it's absolutely the truth: we've all got priorities. And for her, whatever "I've got family, you know how it is" means is more of a priority than travelling.
It's the same with weight loss and fitness. If you want to do it, you've got to make it a priority in your life. It doesn't necessarily have to be your #1 priority, but I reckon that if you're serious about it, it needs to be one of your top 5 priorities. Otherwise, it's not going to happen. You don't go to sleep every night wishing you could be something other than what you are, only to wake up one morning and find yourself magically transformed. Changing yourself takes hard work! The kind of hard work that I've seen hard working, motivated and determined people shy away from.
But here's the thing: yeah, it's really hard to transform yourself in some way. It doesn't stay hard though. It's not always a grueling process, and you don't always question why the hell you're putting yourself through the process. That's just how it starts. If you keep going with it, it really does get easier. And yes, that generally means it's time to challenge yourself harder, but you know what? Those challenges get easier to take on too.
A year ago if you had told me I had 3 weeks to train myself to run 5km, I would have probably spurted a fair number of obscenities at you. But today, I'm a week away from the race and in this morning's training session I ran 4 of my 5km, and then went to yoga, and have felt strong and energetic all day. It is a challenge to run 5km, but it's no longer a big one.
After I complete Run Melbourne, I am going to continue running. I'm not very fast, and I'd like to get fast. But for now I'm working on building up my strength so that I can run without injuring myself (the new shoes are making a world of difference on that front). I guess that's the thing that some people don't really understand: you can't just roll out of bed one morning and be able to do something you've never done before. You've got to work towards it. And that generally means taking the larger goal and breaking it down into smaller goals. Eventually, I'll be able to run fast because that is something that I want to accomplish and I am actively working towards it. In the meantime, I'm pretty damn stoked at myself for completing today's 5km run in 0:38:15. Since I'm no longer completely ceasing up and in pain after running, I'll be doing a lot of running this week to prepare myself for next Sunday's race.
There is something else frustrating about self transformation that I am probably more sympathetic about: it takes a lot of time. I'm not exactly known to be a patient person, so I definitely get the frustration at the fact that you can't just decide to work at something and accomplish it straight away. I certainly have learned to be a helluva lot more patient through my fitness journey - or at least to be patient with myself. I've stuck with it long enough to know that I will get the results I want if I keep at it, and that helps a lot. Because there are absolutely times where I just want to go full tilt into something, but I can't. Like with swimming. One spectacular day I beat my best time by 2 minutes. It was amazing! That was a month ago and all I've managed to do since is match my second best time, and that was with a great deal of effort.
Changing yourself involves taking a lot of baby steps, or at least it does if you want it to be lasting change. Which is what I have to remind myself of on a pretty regular basis, because I've secretly wanted to be this hard core athletic person for most of my life. And now that I'm closer than I've ever been to obtaining it, it can be really frustrating to think how much further I still have to go. But I'll get there, and I know that. I've worked way too hard and come way too close to accomplishing my goal to stop now!!
This might be a weird tangent to go on, but in my head the link makes sense. I was talking to one of my dearest and oldest friends this weekend about the trials and tribulations of life. Though me and her have different belief systems, we both think about our lives as constituting a narrative: we are the heroines of stories that someone else is writing. Maybe because we are both writers ourselves, we both struggle with the fact that we're not in on the plot line. It's like Stranger Than Fiction: we know that we are in a story, we know that someone else is telling the story, and we're not too happy about not having control over the outcome of the story.
I've been thinking about this a lot since our conversation, though I've thought about it a lot before then too. I absolutely believe that there is some greater force beyond myself that is, to some extent, directing my life. I'm just very reluctant to put a name to what that force may be and very hostile to the idea that somehow this force could be summed up through any one particular belief system (hence why the thought of being part of a religion makes me hiss and spit, and also why I find atheism incredibly reductionist). That being said, it's not like this force has complete control over what we do and that everything in our lives are predetermined. That's just ridiculous! Why would whatever force of the universe there may or may not be bother with having sentient life if only to predetermine every move they make? (Unless, of course, we aren't really sentient...)
I like to think about my life narrative as being of the choose-your-own-adventure variety. Of course, instead of having two choices to pick between to move the story forward, we sometimes can have infinite choices. I think about the mysterious workings of fate like a choose-your-own-adventure book because in those books, invariably there are certain events that you will end up at regardless of what path you take. That doesn't make the journey to those events pointless; quite the opposite! The journey we take to that destination will affect the decisions we make and the next path we take. The journey is, in fact, much more important than the destination.
The two of us are both dealing with one story line ending and the frustration of not knowing where the story is going to go from there. What I have learnt on my various journeys is that life will continue going on, no matter what, and that in time, a new plot line will reveal itself. So, as we both wait for that storyline where we get to enact our own version of Bridesmaids (great movie btw) we've got other story lines in our lives to develop. And who knows where the journey those take us on will lead?
Since my life story can essentially be told through Kanye West songs (seriously), I'll let Mr. West take us out again!
I don't ever wanna go back there so imma be taking no days off until my spaceship takes off.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
A New World Order
This is going to be a long, ranty, opinionated blog. You have been forewarned!
It's been a big week in the world! A Royal Wedding in the UK; Obama kills Osama in the US; Canada elects it's first majoritydictatorship government in nearly a decade; and Australia... well, Australia had the Logies, the season premiere of MasterChef 3, and the Biggest Loser finale. And yup, I'm gonna give you my opinions on 'em all!
The Royal Wedding
So I only watched about 5 minutes of this, though I did watch the made-for-TV-movie about how they met. Which, *barf!* To call their story a modern day fairytale romance is such a load of crap. Though, my flatmate pointed out that people are perhaps taking the whole 'marrying a prince' thing very literally when they talk about fairytale romances. And to me, a commoner marrying into royalty does not a fairytale romance make! I don't see how any fairytale romance, modern or not, involves the prince sleeping around and not even having the guts to make a clean break with his love interest. I admit that the entirety of my knowledge about the royal couple comes from watching said barf-worthy movie, but, in my defense, I have to assume that this movie was made to put their story in the best possible light...and he still fucked around on her in it.
As for the wedding itself, I have to agree with the elderly woman at the post office the other morning: it was pretty. I thought Kate and Wills both looked gorgeous, and the dress was lovely. (I'm not a fan of long trains, but considering it was a Royal Wedding, I'll allow it. Especially as it was not ridiculously long, though I did think Pippa looked ridiculous carting the train around.) I thought the couple looked genuinely happy, and while I will not support the use of the term 'fairytale' to describe their relationships, I certainly do hope that they are in fact happy. And also, I was very glad to see that Mrs. Middleton looks nothing like the actress who portrayed her (who'd had so much botox and face lifts that she barely resembled a human being anymore).
Now, you're probably wondering why I'm even talking about this, considering a) I really don't give a rat's ass about the royal family (Prince Phillip's existence was purely abstract for me until a couple of years ago) and b) I strongly dislike weddings, regardless of who's they are.
I am talking about it, essentially, because everyone is talking about it and I don't really understand why anyone is talking about it beyond the points I made above. I have a very hard time understanding what relevance the royals have in today's society, beyond being figureheads of power and a different kind of celebrity. But the thing I like about the royal couple is, apparently they feel (to some extent) the same way. And it's for that reason that I find them intriguing. It seems to me that all this formality and stuffiness (and qadrillions of dollars spent on the wedding) has a lot more to do with the Queen than the couple. Eventually, the Queen will cark it, and it seems to me that when she does, the role of the royals will greatly change. That's the thing about a lot of things in the world today; eventually the old farts will cark it, and us young folks can finally get to work on making some meaningful changes! (I have very little patience for the elderly; I am not going to pretend otherwise.)
Since I'm talking about weddings and marriage, I'd like to pause for a second and clarify my stance on the issue. I know many of you see me as anti-marriage, and for a long time I'd say I was. But, as I've come to terms with my sexuality and found myself living in a country which denies me certain rights based on my sexuality, marriage is something I've done a lot more thinking about. I think that the institution of marriage is incredibly problematic. I also think the institution of education is incredibly problematic, so I can assure you that doesn't mean I'm against it. I just think it's very, very flawed. Historically, marriage's roots lie in property transactions, namely, ownership of a woman transferred from her father to her husband. From this framework, same-sex marriage is nonsensical. That isn't why there is so much bullshit about not allowing it (after all, women and men are now considered equals, or so we're told) but it is an argument for reworking what, exactly, the institution of marriage represents.
Honestly, I am torn about weddings and marriage. I am both appalled by them and want them for myself. Kinda. Of course I want a relationship which is stable and secure enough to be what a marriage is meant to be. But I really do hate weddings. They are these celebrations that are meant to be about the couple, but they so rarely actually are. So much energy is spent into appeasing other people's expectations about what the day should be, and it's bullshit! What the day should be is absolutely 110% about the couple, and if their great aunt Dotti doesn't like it, she can get fucked! So while yes, under duress I could tell you exactly what I would want for my own wedding, the thought of actually organising a wedding puts me into a cold sweat. Because there's no way for me to do it without someone getting hurt. Tempting though it is to say 'screw it' and not ever bother with this whole wedding/marriage business, if I find myself in a relationship with that strong of a bond, well, I think that's something I'd want to share and celebrate. Yeah, yeah, it's on my mind a lot.
Moving right along...
Obama kills Osama
This one is a really tricky issue for me, because, on the one hand, I don't support the death penalty. But on the other hand, what exactly do you do with a war criminal? Saddam Hussein was caught, put on trial, and sentenced to death. And while the sentencing does not sit easy with me, the fact that there was a trial does make a big difference to me. Osama bin Laden did not get a trial. And here's the thing: America has declared war on all these regimes of terror (yeah, yeah, "They started it!") and is constantly going on to the people in these countries where America is fighting terror that they are doing it to bring them freedom and democracy. Well, America, isn't a fair trial for all part of freedom and democracy?
It seems highly unlikely that the order Obama issued was to make every effort to capture Osama alive. There is something exceedingly creepy about a government issuing the order to kill someone. And it's not really any less creepy for a government to order the killing of someone outside of their own governance.
So I've been thinking: what gives someone the right to kill someone else? There are only two situations that I can personally consider to be OK (and I'm leaving abortion out of this, if you want to make a case of it, then basically, there are three situations that I can personally consider to be OK). The first is self-defense. If someone has decided to threaten my life, I have the right to fight for my survival. If this means taking the attacker's life, so be it. For those of you who are in some way pro-war, I think self-defence covers the only type of killing which should occur in a war.
The second is something that went out of fashion a long time ago: the honourable duel. I think that if two people, of their own free will, challenge each other to a fight to the death, both fully knowing and accepting that they could die if they fight, then why not? I must say that if these duels existed, it would have to be completely acceptable for a person to refuse the challenge. It would only be acceptable if both people were fully and freely consenting. I also think that these duel could not be fully and freely consented to 'in the heat of the moment'. If a challenge was laid, perhaps some sort of a state permit would then need to be sought, to ensure both parties were entering into the duel of their own free will. I wonder what society would be like if this was allowed? If there was no dishonour in turning down a challenge? I think that maybe such a society could be a pretty great place to live.
Which brings me to a society that is not such a great place to live...
Canada Elects Harper into a Majority Government
Why? Why oh why would you do this Canada? I just don't understand. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, and in case you somehow haven't already figured it out, I am staunchly anti-Conservative. This is a party that scares people into voting for them, then ignores the needs of their electorate. They are despicable.
Now, I'm going to do a bit of a quick and dirty cross comparison of Canadian and Australian politics so that everyone can be up to speed. This is not 100% accurate, but gives you a bit of a comparison point.
Canada Australia
Conservatives Liberals
Liberals Labor
NDP Greens
Stephen Harper John Howard
Stockwell Day Tony Abbott*
Jean Chretien What Kevin Rudd could have been
Minority government Coalition government
*Tony Abbott is the leader of the Liberal party, who are currently in opposition. So I suppose, Canada, it could be worse. Stockwell Day and Tony Abbott are fucking idiots. The only attempt at saying something positive about Harper and Howard that I can make is that they are not on Day and Abbott's level of sheer fucking idiocy.
For the majority of my years as a voter, Canada has been governed by minority governments. This, I thought, was pretty nifty. It meant that there was a lot of debate, that the electorate could more effectively lobby, and that if the government was deemed to be shit, an election could be called. And guess why we just had an election? Because Stephen Harper's government (which seems to be what he's re-branding the Conservative party as) was deemed to be shit! His budget was deemed unfit and his government fell. Or so it was supposed to. But for some fucked up reason, instead of kicking him to the curb where he belongs, or even just electing him in with a minority government (which actually, given the split probably would not have happened), we've given him a majority government. And thus, are stuck with him doing as he pleases for the next four years.
The last time Canada had a majority government was when Jean Chretien was in power. When it became clear to Chretien that he was on the way out, he signed the Kyoto protocol and legalised same-sex marriage, because he could. Because his party (Liberals) had the power to do it. We have now given the Conservatives the power to do as they please. What will Harper do? Well, considering what he's already done the future ain't looking too bright!
My whole life, being from Alberta (which is basically the breeding ground of all things Conservative - Harper's electorate is one over from mine, and there were always billboards of his ugly face everywhere whenever he had some political success), I've heard a lot of bullshit about how any party which is not the Conservatives is 'Bad for Canada'. Given that Alberta is so terrified of change that they have not known anything but Conservative rule for god knows how long, I shouldn't really be surprised. Having at some point in my life stepped outside of the fold and experienced life in other parts of the country and world, I am quite confident that should the Conservative stronghold crumble, the world will not end.
I don't know if I can possibly express just how angry this attitude about the Conservative party makes me. Especially given that I am very hard pressed to think of what, exactly, it is that the Conservatives have ever done that has actually been good for Canada. I mean, unless we're just talking about the super-rich bits, cuz, yeah, the Conservatives are great for them!!
So, just UGH! Canada, I am disappointed in you. The only good thing that came out of this election was that the NDP is now the official opposition party, by a landslide! I hope that over the next four years their actions will convince more Canadians that they are a party worth supporting.
Which brings us to Australia and the TV
The Biggest Loser has come to an end, just in time for MasterChef to start up again. It's the perpetual wheel of consumption. Take the weight off, put the weight on, take the weight off, put the weight on... I wonder if MasterChef will ever launch it's own line of frozen dinners like Biggest Loser has?
Cynicism aside, I did really enjoy this season. Lara got down to 66kg I believe, hopefully it hasn't cost her her mental health. Emma won (and has copied my haircut...ARGH) which is kinda great because she actually lost most of her weight outside of the Biggest Loser camp. But can I just say...Emma is meant to be the hot twin, but Meg, Meg is completely gorgeous! Emma's doesn't even come close.
And that concludes my long winded, ranty blog.
It's been a big week in the world! A Royal Wedding in the UK; Obama kills Osama in the US; Canada elects it's first majority
The Royal Wedding
So I only watched about 5 minutes of this, though I did watch the made-for-TV-movie about how they met. Which, *barf!* To call their story a modern day fairytale romance is such a load of crap. Though, my flatmate pointed out that people are perhaps taking the whole 'marrying a prince' thing very literally when they talk about fairytale romances. And to me, a commoner marrying into royalty does not a fairytale romance make! I don't see how any fairytale romance, modern or not, involves the prince sleeping around and not even having the guts to make a clean break with his love interest. I admit that the entirety of my knowledge about the royal couple comes from watching said barf-worthy movie, but, in my defense, I have to assume that this movie was made to put their story in the best possible light...and he still fucked around on her in it.
As for the wedding itself, I have to agree with the elderly woman at the post office the other morning: it was pretty. I thought Kate and Wills both looked gorgeous, and the dress was lovely. (I'm not a fan of long trains, but considering it was a Royal Wedding, I'll allow it. Especially as it was not ridiculously long, though I did think Pippa looked ridiculous carting the train around.) I thought the couple looked genuinely happy, and while I will not support the use of the term 'fairytale' to describe their relationships, I certainly do hope that they are in fact happy. And also, I was very glad to see that Mrs. Middleton looks nothing like the actress who portrayed her (who'd had so much botox and face lifts that she barely resembled a human being anymore).
Now, you're probably wondering why I'm even talking about this, considering a) I really don't give a rat's ass about the royal family (Prince Phillip's existence was purely abstract for me until a couple of years ago) and b) I strongly dislike weddings, regardless of who's they are.
I am talking about it, essentially, because everyone is talking about it and I don't really understand why anyone is talking about it beyond the points I made above. I have a very hard time understanding what relevance the royals have in today's society, beyond being figureheads of power and a different kind of celebrity. But the thing I like about the royal couple is, apparently they feel (to some extent) the same way. And it's for that reason that I find them intriguing. It seems to me that all this formality and stuffiness (and qadrillions of dollars spent on the wedding) has a lot more to do with the Queen than the couple. Eventually, the Queen will cark it, and it seems to me that when she does, the role of the royals will greatly change. That's the thing about a lot of things in the world today; eventually the old farts will cark it, and us young folks can finally get to work on making some meaningful changes! (I have very little patience for the elderly; I am not going to pretend otherwise.)
Since I'm talking about weddings and marriage, I'd like to pause for a second and clarify my stance on the issue. I know many of you see me as anti-marriage, and for a long time I'd say I was. But, as I've come to terms with my sexuality and found myself living in a country which denies me certain rights based on my sexuality, marriage is something I've done a lot more thinking about. I think that the institution of marriage is incredibly problematic. I also think the institution of education is incredibly problematic, so I can assure you that doesn't mean I'm against it. I just think it's very, very flawed. Historically, marriage's roots lie in property transactions, namely, ownership of a woman transferred from her father to her husband. From this framework, same-sex marriage is nonsensical. That isn't why there is so much bullshit about not allowing it (after all, women and men are now considered equals, or so we're told) but it is an argument for reworking what, exactly, the institution of marriage represents.
Honestly, I am torn about weddings and marriage. I am both appalled by them and want them for myself. Kinda. Of course I want a relationship which is stable and secure enough to be what a marriage is meant to be. But I really do hate weddings. They are these celebrations that are meant to be about the couple, but they so rarely actually are. So much energy is spent into appeasing other people's expectations about what the day should be, and it's bullshit! What the day should be is absolutely 110% about the couple, and if their great aunt Dotti doesn't like it, she can get fucked! So while yes, under duress I could tell you exactly what I would want for my own wedding, the thought of actually organising a wedding puts me into a cold sweat. Because there's no way for me to do it without someone getting hurt. Tempting though it is to say 'screw it' and not ever bother with this whole wedding/marriage business, if I find myself in a relationship with that strong of a bond, well, I think that's something I'd want to share and celebrate. Yeah, yeah, it's on my mind a lot.
Moving right along...
Obama kills Osama
This one is a really tricky issue for me, because, on the one hand, I don't support the death penalty. But on the other hand, what exactly do you do with a war criminal? Saddam Hussein was caught, put on trial, and sentenced to death. And while the sentencing does not sit easy with me, the fact that there was a trial does make a big difference to me. Osama bin Laden did not get a trial. And here's the thing: America has declared war on all these regimes of terror (yeah, yeah, "They started it!") and is constantly going on to the people in these countries where America is fighting terror that they are doing it to bring them freedom and democracy. Well, America, isn't a fair trial for all part of freedom and democracy?
It seems highly unlikely that the order Obama issued was to make every effort to capture Osama alive. There is something exceedingly creepy about a government issuing the order to kill someone. And it's not really any less creepy for a government to order the killing of someone outside of their own governance.
So I've been thinking: what gives someone the right to kill someone else? There are only two situations that I can personally consider to be OK (and I'm leaving abortion out of this, if you want to make a case of it, then basically, there are three situations that I can personally consider to be OK). The first is self-defense. If someone has decided to threaten my life, I have the right to fight for my survival. If this means taking the attacker's life, so be it. For those of you who are in some way pro-war, I think self-defence covers the only type of killing which should occur in a war.
The second is something that went out of fashion a long time ago: the honourable duel. I think that if two people, of their own free will, challenge each other to a fight to the death, both fully knowing and accepting that they could die if they fight, then why not? I must say that if these duels existed, it would have to be completely acceptable for a person to refuse the challenge. It would only be acceptable if both people were fully and freely consenting. I also think that these duel could not be fully and freely consented to 'in the heat of the moment'. If a challenge was laid, perhaps some sort of a state permit would then need to be sought, to ensure both parties were entering into the duel of their own free will. I wonder what society would be like if this was allowed? If there was no dishonour in turning down a challenge? I think that maybe such a society could be a pretty great place to live.
Which brings me to a society that is not such a great place to live...
Canada Elects Harper into a Majority Government
Why? Why oh why would you do this Canada? I just don't understand. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, and in case you somehow haven't already figured it out, I am staunchly anti-Conservative. This is a party that scares people into voting for them, then ignores the needs of their electorate. They are despicable.
Now, I'm going to do a bit of a quick and dirty cross comparison of Canadian and Australian politics so that everyone can be up to speed. This is not 100% accurate, but gives you a bit of a comparison point.
Canada Australia
Conservatives Liberals
Liberals Labor
NDP Greens
Stephen Harper John Howard
Stockwell Day Tony Abbott*
Jean Chretien What Kevin Rudd could have been
Minority government Coalition government
*Tony Abbott is the leader of the Liberal party, who are currently in opposition. So I suppose, Canada, it could be worse. Stockwell Day and Tony Abbott are fucking idiots. The only attempt at saying something positive about Harper and Howard that I can make is that they are not on Day and Abbott's level of sheer fucking idiocy.
For the majority of my years as a voter, Canada has been governed by minority governments. This, I thought, was pretty nifty. It meant that there was a lot of debate, that the electorate could more effectively lobby, and that if the government was deemed to be shit, an election could be called. And guess why we just had an election? Because Stephen Harper's government (which seems to be what he's re-branding the Conservative party as) was deemed to be shit! His budget was deemed unfit and his government fell. Or so it was supposed to. But for some fucked up reason, instead of kicking him to the curb where he belongs, or even just electing him in with a minority government (which actually, given the split probably would not have happened), we've given him a majority government. And thus, are stuck with him doing as he pleases for the next four years.
The last time Canada had a majority government was when Jean Chretien was in power. When it became clear to Chretien that he was on the way out, he signed the Kyoto protocol and legalised same-sex marriage, because he could. Because his party (Liberals) had the power to do it. We have now given the Conservatives the power to do as they please. What will Harper do? Well, considering what he's already done the future ain't looking too bright!
My whole life, being from Alberta (which is basically the breeding ground of all things Conservative - Harper's electorate is one over from mine, and there were always billboards of his ugly face everywhere whenever he had some political success), I've heard a lot of bullshit about how any party which is not the Conservatives is 'Bad for Canada'. Given that Alberta is so terrified of change that they have not known anything but Conservative rule for god knows how long, I shouldn't really be surprised. Having at some point in my life stepped outside of the fold and experienced life in other parts of the country and world, I am quite confident that should the Conservative stronghold crumble, the world will not end.
I don't know if I can possibly express just how angry this attitude about the Conservative party makes me. Especially given that I am very hard pressed to think of what, exactly, it is that the Conservatives have ever done that has actually been good for Canada. I mean, unless we're just talking about the super-rich bits, cuz, yeah, the Conservatives are great for them!!
So, just UGH! Canada, I am disappointed in you. The only good thing that came out of this election was that the NDP is now the official opposition party, by a landslide! I hope that over the next four years their actions will convince more Canadians that they are a party worth supporting.
Which brings us to Australia and the TV
The Biggest Loser has come to an end, just in time for MasterChef to start up again. It's the perpetual wheel of consumption. Take the weight off, put the weight on, take the weight off, put the weight on... I wonder if MasterChef will ever launch it's own line of frozen dinners like Biggest Loser has?
Cynicism aside, I did really enjoy this season. Lara got down to 66kg I believe, hopefully it hasn't cost her her mental health. Emma won (and has copied my haircut...ARGH) which is kinda great because she actually lost most of her weight outside of the Biggest Loser camp. But can I just say...Emma is meant to be the hot twin, but Meg, Meg is completely gorgeous! Emma's doesn't even come close.
And that concludes my long winded, ranty blog.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The Pay Off
I am a woman with many guilty pleasures when it comes to TV, and the Biggest Loser Australia is one such pleasure. I'd watched a bit of it here and there, but last year I got into it in a big way. The timing was perfect because I was in a place where I wanted to lose weight, and watching the contestants on this show transform did actually inspire me to make a real effort myself.
I was quite excited when this year's competition started up, having come far enough in my weight loss journey to not be fat enough for the show. When it started there was a contested, Lara, who's starting weight was the same as mine when I began keeping track of my own weight loss: 107kg. (I don't know how much I weighed at my heaviest, I'd guess about 112kg.) As the competition got underway I thought to myself "OK, let's see how this Lara chick does, and I can use her weight loss as a goal for myself."
If you're not familiar with the Biggest Loser, the way they go about losing weight is completely insane. They go from being morbidly obese and very sedentary to training upwards of 8 hours per day. One of the things I really dislike about this show is the contestants diets when they are in the Biggest Loser camp. The show has a lot of corporate sponsorships from various food companies, so, guess what the participants are told to eat? And it gets worse. In order for them to actually get really dramatic results and make the show interesting, they are made to hate their fat selves.
Now, there's a lot of fat-hate out there, and, of course, there's also a fat-acceptance movement. While I don't think that there is anything acceptable about fat-hate, I'm wary of fat-acceptance. I have yet to meet someone who was significantly overweight and also truly, genuinely happy with themselves. Is this because the media tells us to hate on any itty bitty imperfection we have? Sure, that doesn't help matters, but it can't all be blamed on the media. I think that every person with a 'weight problem' (and I am not going to define what that may be) has some personal demon, or potentially many personal demons, that need to be dealt with. If these demons aren't dealt with, I don't think the weight will ever stay off. And hating on your fat self is not going to make those demons go away; it's just adding some new ones into the mix.
Lara proved to be incredibly driven. By the second or third week she had lost more weight than I have in a year. By the time she was eliminated she was down to I think 72kg and wearing a size 10. The thing was, by the time she was eliminated, my flatmate and I had been screaming at the TV for weeks that she needed to go. Sure she looked great, but she had gotten herself into a really fucked up head space and remaining in the competition was doing her more damage than good. She hadn't dealt with her demons at all. Instead, she had just worked her ass off to get as skinny as she could, and lost perspective along the way. She had absolutely no confidence in her ability to keep the weight off outside of the Biggest Loser camp, and that, to me, was the biggest reason she needed to get out: to prove herself wrong and FINALLY deal with whatever her fat demons were. I'm curious to see how she's gone outside the camp, but the finale is still a few weeks away.
Watching Lara made me so incredibly glad that I have not done something drastic to lose the weight. My goals have been small and achievable. They take time, perseverance, and a lot of hard work to achieve, but I continue to achieve them. I have built so much more confidence in myself on my journey because I have done it on my own. I have gone from being an obese, sedentary person to being an overweight, athletic person. And in time, I will be, simply, an athletic person. I currently weigh 89kg, and I think my ideal weight will be between 70-75kg. Though, as I am actually more interested in building muscle than just losing fat, those numbers are really just a guesstimate.
I have never understood the obsession with being a size 8 (I doubt my skeleton would actually fit into a pair of size 8 jeans). I remember the sizes I was wearing in high school, when I was around (or under) 70kg. I was usually a size L, a size 14. That suits me just fine. I don't want to shop in the plus size section anymore. I want to be able to go into regular stores and buy jeans that fit me. I do not care if I am buying the largest size jeans the stores carry; provided they actually look good on me. I want to be able to purchase the funky tights I see in so many stores and know that they are actually going to fit me when I get them home.
Going through my wardrobe, I have to admit to myself that the majority of my clothes are actually way too big for me. As I've said many times, I cannot afford to just buy myself a new wardrobe. But every now and then I take stock of what I've got and what I need, and I make some strategic purchases. This morning I headed into the city on what I thought would be an impossible mission: to find a structured skirt in a shade of brown for around $60.
I decided to go to Burke St mall and check out the newly renovated Myer first, and branch out from there. I've always headed straight to the plus size section at Myer, but this time I decided to give the regular women's section a go first. I had almost completed my walk through and was about to head up to the plus size section when I saw it: the perfect skirt. Figuring "what the hell," I grabbed it in an L and XL, then wandered around and picked up a few other things to try on just for fun, including a less perfect size 16 skirt.
I tried on the XL skirt first, and it was, in fact, perfect. But at $80 it was also a bit more than what I had wanted to spend. I didn't want to spend much on a skirt because I am still losing weight, and it's really frustrating to spend my very limited funds on something awesome when soon it too will be too big. So again, I figured "what the hell," and I tried on the L. And it fit! It is a bit tight, but it's completely wearable and will actually look even better in a few kilos time! Well worth the $80.
I knew I wasn't going to buy any of the other items I'd brought into the change room with me, but I enjoy playing dress-up so I tried them on anyways. And much to my surprise, the size 16 skirt was actually too big! Now, I suspect this is more a case of 'generous sizing' than my actual weight loss, but it felt amazing to know that I don't have to go straight for the plus-sizes anymore! So amazing, in fact, that I went out and bought myself two pairs of funky tights. And sure, when I got home I discovered that one of them doesn't fit, but I also discovered that the tights from last year's epic wardrobe fail now fit me just fine. It's those pay offs that I love the most: fitting into the clothes that were too small, discovering I actually can walk in my heels, watching successive pairs of my skinny jeans become my fat jeans.
My weight loss journey may be taking a lot of time, but look at how that worked out for the tortoise.
I was quite excited when this year's competition started up, having come far enough in my weight loss journey to not be fat enough for the show. When it started there was a contested, Lara, who's starting weight was the same as mine when I began keeping track of my own weight loss: 107kg. (I don't know how much I weighed at my heaviest, I'd guess about 112kg.) As the competition got underway I thought to myself "OK, let's see how this Lara chick does, and I can use her weight loss as a goal for myself."
If you're not familiar with the Biggest Loser, the way they go about losing weight is completely insane. They go from being morbidly obese and very sedentary to training upwards of 8 hours per day. One of the things I really dislike about this show is the contestants diets when they are in the Biggest Loser camp. The show has a lot of corporate sponsorships from various food companies, so, guess what the participants are told to eat? And it gets worse. In order for them to actually get really dramatic results and make the show interesting, they are made to hate their fat selves.
Now, there's a lot of fat-hate out there, and, of course, there's also a fat-acceptance movement. While I don't think that there is anything acceptable about fat-hate, I'm wary of fat-acceptance. I have yet to meet someone who was significantly overweight and also truly, genuinely happy with themselves. Is this because the media tells us to hate on any itty bitty imperfection we have? Sure, that doesn't help matters, but it can't all be blamed on the media. I think that every person with a 'weight problem' (and I am not going to define what that may be) has some personal demon, or potentially many personal demons, that need to be dealt with. If these demons aren't dealt with, I don't think the weight will ever stay off. And hating on your fat self is not going to make those demons go away; it's just adding some new ones into the mix.
Lara proved to be incredibly driven. By the second or third week she had lost more weight than I have in a year. By the time she was eliminated she was down to I think 72kg and wearing a size 10. The thing was, by the time she was eliminated, my flatmate and I had been screaming at the TV for weeks that she needed to go. Sure she looked great, but she had gotten herself into a really fucked up head space and remaining in the competition was doing her more damage than good. She hadn't dealt with her demons at all. Instead, she had just worked her ass off to get as skinny as she could, and lost perspective along the way. She had absolutely no confidence in her ability to keep the weight off outside of the Biggest Loser camp, and that, to me, was the biggest reason she needed to get out: to prove herself wrong and FINALLY deal with whatever her fat demons were. I'm curious to see how she's gone outside the camp, but the finale is still a few weeks away.
Watching Lara made me so incredibly glad that I have not done something drastic to lose the weight. My goals have been small and achievable. They take time, perseverance, and a lot of hard work to achieve, but I continue to achieve them. I have built so much more confidence in myself on my journey because I have done it on my own. I have gone from being an obese, sedentary person to being an overweight, athletic person. And in time, I will be, simply, an athletic person. I currently weigh 89kg, and I think my ideal weight will be between 70-75kg. Though, as I am actually more interested in building muscle than just losing fat, those numbers are really just a guesstimate.
I have never understood the obsession with being a size 8 (I doubt my skeleton would actually fit into a pair of size 8 jeans). I remember the sizes I was wearing in high school, when I was around (or under) 70kg. I was usually a size L, a size 14. That suits me just fine. I don't want to shop in the plus size section anymore. I want to be able to go into regular stores and buy jeans that fit me. I do not care if I am buying the largest size jeans the stores carry; provided they actually look good on me. I want to be able to purchase the funky tights I see in so many stores and know that they are actually going to fit me when I get them home.
Going through my wardrobe, I have to admit to myself that the majority of my clothes are actually way too big for me. As I've said many times, I cannot afford to just buy myself a new wardrobe. But every now and then I take stock of what I've got and what I need, and I make some strategic purchases. This morning I headed into the city on what I thought would be an impossible mission: to find a structured skirt in a shade of brown for around $60.
I decided to go to Burke St mall and check out the newly renovated Myer first, and branch out from there. I've always headed straight to the plus size section at Myer, but this time I decided to give the regular women's section a go first. I had almost completed my walk through and was about to head up to the plus size section when I saw it: the perfect skirt. Figuring "what the hell," I grabbed it in an L and XL, then wandered around and picked up a few other things to try on just for fun, including a less perfect size 16 skirt.
I tried on the XL skirt first, and it was, in fact, perfect. But at $80 it was also a bit more than what I had wanted to spend. I didn't want to spend much on a skirt because I am still losing weight, and it's really frustrating to spend my very limited funds on something awesome when soon it too will be too big. So again, I figured "what the hell," and I tried on the L. And it fit! It is a bit tight, but it's completely wearable and will actually look even better in a few kilos time! Well worth the $80.
I knew I wasn't going to buy any of the other items I'd brought into the change room with me, but I enjoy playing dress-up so I tried them on anyways. And much to my surprise, the size 16 skirt was actually too big! Now, I suspect this is more a case of 'generous sizing' than my actual weight loss, but it felt amazing to know that I don't have to go straight for the plus-sizes anymore! So amazing, in fact, that I went out and bought myself two pairs of funky tights. And sure, when I got home I discovered that one of them doesn't fit, but I also discovered that the tights from last year's epic wardrobe fail now fit me just fine. It's those pay offs that I love the most: fitting into the clothes that were too small, discovering I actually can walk in my heels, watching successive pairs of my skinny jeans become my fat jeans.
My weight loss journey may be taking a lot of time, but look at how that worked out for the tortoise.
Friday, March 4, 2011
All The Singlet Ladies
As we enter March, Melbourne's summer-that-wasn't is quickly moving into autumn. The weather is cooling down and it's time for me to start digging out the warmer clothes. I have to admit, I'm enjoying the cool change. Sure, as the long winter months wear on I'll probably be lamenting about how much I miss the heat and the intensity of the summer sun, but autumn I love. The sun is still shining, but it's cool enough to break out the layers and start getting creative with clothes again. And I can actually sleep at night without feeling like I will spontaneously combust!
Another reason that I'm excited about autumn is that a good deal of my summer clothes are now much too big for me, and I am really looking forward to purging them from my wardrobe. When I started losing weight last year, I made a decision that at the end of each season I could get rid of all the clothes that were too big for me. I have to wait until the end of the season though as I cannot exactly afford to buy a new wardrobe right now! (And yes, yes, we're all aware that I recently splurged on a killer red dress. But that was perfectly justifiable under style tip #5.) My end-of-season plan is slightly flawed though, in that I've now lost 17kgs since last autumn, and the clothes that were starting to be a bit loose on me last year I'll be swimming in now. I may be pretty limited on the 'in with the new' front, but it's certainly time for 'out with the old'!!!
I am a recovering shopoholic with a huge tendency to look at my overflowing wardrobe and declare that I have nothing to wear. But, having lost 17kgs, I'm also really freggin' tired of hiding my new, fitter figure under draping, gaping clothes. I want a new, structured, harder-edged look this year. But, I'm also hoping to have dropped another 15kgs (or so) by this time next year, so there is certainly something to be said for investing in belts and dealing with the excess fabric for the time being. It's a delicate procedure, purging my wardrobe whilst maintaining enough clothing options for me not to go off the deep end and into some hardcore retail therapy. I envision the coming months involving a lot of tights, skirts, and layering! Any new pieces will either be seriously cheap, or have serious long term potential! In other words, 'tis the season for cardigans.
And when it comes to layering, there's one thing a girl should never be without!
Joni's Top Ten Style Tips #8: A Singlet Is A Girl's Best Friend
Singlets (or tank tops or camisoles if you prefer) are an absolute wardrobe essential. Versatile, functional, sexy; is there anything the singlet can't do? They show off your arms, back, and decolletage. They can be dressed up or down. They can be worn on their own in warm weather, and paired up with jumpers or jackets in cooler weather. They can provide that extra bit of coverage to a too low cut top (yes, there is such a thing) while still providing sex appeal. Worn under a top, they can smooth out bumps and wrinkles. And if Lady Cop is to be believed, when worn to Bunnings Warehouse (the Australian version of Canadian Tire for the folks back home), they can improve your customer service experience.
Seriously ladies. Fuck diamonds, go get yourself some singlets!
Another reason that I'm excited about autumn is that a good deal of my summer clothes are now much too big for me, and I am really looking forward to purging them from my wardrobe. When I started losing weight last year, I made a decision that at the end of each season I could get rid of all the clothes that were too big for me. I have to wait until the end of the season though as I cannot exactly afford to buy a new wardrobe right now! (And yes, yes, we're all aware that I recently splurged on a killer red dress. But that was perfectly justifiable under style tip #5.) My end-of-season plan is slightly flawed though, in that I've now lost 17kgs since last autumn, and the clothes that were starting to be a bit loose on me last year I'll be swimming in now. I may be pretty limited on the 'in with the new' front, but it's certainly time for 'out with the old'!!!
I am a recovering shopoholic with a huge tendency to look at my overflowing wardrobe and declare that I have nothing to wear. But, having lost 17kgs, I'm also really freggin' tired of hiding my new, fitter figure under draping, gaping clothes. I want a new, structured, harder-edged look this year. But, I'm also hoping to have dropped another 15kgs (or so) by this time next year, so there is certainly something to be said for investing in belts and dealing with the excess fabric for the time being. It's a delicate procedure, purging my wardrobe whilst maintaining enough clothing options for me not to go off the deep end and into some hardcore retail therapy. I envision the coming months involving a lot of tights, skirts, and layering! Any new pieces will either be seriously cheap, or have serious long term potential! In other words, 'tis the season for cardigans.
And when it comes to layering, there's one thing a girl should never be without!
Joni's Top Ten Style Tips #8: A Singlet Is A Girl's Best Friend
Singlets (or tank tops or camisoles if you prefer) are an absolute wardrobe essential. Versatile, functional, sexy; is there anything the singlet can't do? They show off your arms, back, and decolletage. They can be dressed up or down. They can be worn on their own in warm weather, and paired up with jumpers or jackets in cooler weather. They can provide that extra bit of coverage to a too low cut top (yes, there is such a thing) while still providing sex appeal. Worn under a top, they can smooth out bumps and wrinkles. And if Lady Cop is to be believed, when worn to Bunnings Warehouse (the Australian version of Canadian Tire for the folks back home), they can improve your customer service experience.
Seriously ladies. Fuck diamonds, go get yourself some singlets!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Happy Oziversary!
Can you believe it? It's 3 years ago today that I rocked up on Australia's shores. Three years! I can hardly believe it. It doesn't feel like it's been three years. That's the longest I've lived anywhere in the past 8 years.
I remember my first day in Melbourne as if it was yesterday. The weather was much better than it is today. It was hot! I got off the plane from Korea (via Singapore) in my winter coat and thought I was going to die it was so hot! And I had like 8 bags. The university airport transportation people had to put me in a van of my own. I had made arrangements to stay in student accommodations at a hotel on Bell St in Preston. It was a long ways from everywhere and I spent my first day sorting through my luggage, getting my internet set up, and figuring out where the heck I was so that I could figure out where the heck I needed to go. Good times.
It wasn't long after I arrived here that I came to the conclusion I wanted to stay. There's been little question in my mind over the past three years that Melbourne is the place I want to call home on a permanent basis. But lately I am starting to question that. I still love Melbourne very, very much, and I can't think of anywhere else that I'd want to call home, but... I haven't been everywhere else.
Before I moved to Australia, I travelled pretty voraciously; Africa, Asia, the Americas, Europe... But once I got to Australia, the travelling pretty much stopped. A trip to Queensland, a couple trips to Hawaii, and a trip back to Calgary have been it for me. For some people this may seem like a lot; but for me, it's remarkably not. For the most part, this has been because I'm poor. I don't have the money to take off on a trip to Sri Lanka, no matter how cheap the airfare gets. But another part of it is that I needed a break, especially since most of the travelling I did was on my own. After visiting an old, dear friend in Korea, and having such an amazing time getting to travel with someone, my motivation to make those little trips I'd normally take on my own - finances be damned - was hard to summon up.
Lately though, I've been getting itchy feet. This year I am faced with the reality that I will not be a student for the rest of my life, and given that I am living in Australia on a student visa, that means my future is pretty wide open. I've always said the plan is to stay on in Australia (and specifically in Melbourne) and get my permanent residency. That hasn't exactly changed (and no, there is absolutely no way that I will be moving back to Canada), it's more that I no longer have that intense desire to just stay put. Maybe I don't want to live in Australia forever. But I need somewhere to call home and I'd still it rather be Melbourne than anywhere else. Just maybe not forever and ever.
When I was in Hawaii I found myself thinking "I could live in the states, if I knew it was temporary and that I would then be returning to Australia." And since I've been back from Hawaii, I've been missing the vibe of being on an island that comes from being on an island that doesn't also double as a continent. It's true that I've made a good life for myself here in Melbourne, but I've become really aware of the fact that sooner rather than later the circumstances that form the foundation of this life (my PhD) will change. There's gonna be an earthquake, and I have no idea if it will be big or small.
Three years after moving here, I find that I am ready for a change. I don't know what I'll do when I finish my PhD, but I'm a firm believer that if you keep your eyes peeled, opportunities will come around that can lead you to some pretty unexpected places. That is, after all, how I ended up here in the first place.
I remember my first day in Melbourne as if it was yesterday. The weather was much better than it is today. It was hot! I got off the plane from Korea (via Singapore) in my winter coat and thought I was going to die it was so hot! And I had like 8 bags. The university airport transportation people had to put me in a van of my own. I had made arrangements to stay in student accommodations at a hotel on Bell St in Preston. It was a long ways from everywhere and I spent my first day sorting through my luggage, getting my internet set up, and figuring out where the heck I was so that I could figure out where the heck I needed to go. Good times.
It wasn't long after I arrived here that I came to the conclusion I wanted to stay. There's been little question in my mind over the past three years that Melbourne is the place I want to call home on a permanent basis. But lately I am starting to question that. I still love Melbourne very, very much, and I can't think of anywhere else that I'd want to call home, but... I haven't been everywhere else.
Before I moved to Australia, I travelled pretty voraciously; Africa, Asia, the Americas, Europe... But once I got to Australia, the travelling pretty much stopped. A trip to Queensland, a couple trips to Hawaii, and a trip back to Calgary have been it for me. For some people this may seem like a lot; but for me, it's remarkably not. For the most part, this has been because I'm poor. I don't have the money to take off on a trip to Sri Lanka, no matter how cheap the airfare gets. But another part of it is that I needed a break, especially since most of the travelling I did was on my own. After visiting an old, dear friend in Korea, and having such an amazing time getting to travel with someone, my motivation to make those little trips I'd normally take on my own - finances be damned - was hard to summon up.
Lately though, I've been getting itchy feet. This year I am faced with the reality that I will not be a student for the rest of my life, and given that I am living in Australia on a student visa, that means my future is pretty wide open. I've always said the plan is to stay on in Australia (and specifically in Melbourne) and get my permanent residency. That hasn't exactly changed (and no, there is absolutely no way that I will be moving back to Canada), it's more that I no longer have that intense desire to just stay put. Maybe I don't want to live in Australia forever. But I need somewhere to call home and I'd still it rather be Melbourne than anywhere else. Just maybe not forever and ever.
When I was in Hawaii I found myself thinking "I could live in the states, if I knew it was temporary and that I would then be returning to Australia." And since I've been back from Hawaii, I've been missing the vibe of being on an island that comes from being on an island that doesn't also double as a continent. It's true that I've made a good life for myself here in Melbourne, but I've become really aware of the fact that sooner rather than later the circumstances that form the foundation of this life (my PhD) will change. There's gonna be an earthquake, and I have no idea if it will be big or small.
Three years after moving here, I find that I am ready for a change. I don't know what I'll do when I finish my PhD, but I'm a firm believer that if you keep your eyes peeled, opportunities will come around that can lead you to some pretty unexpected places. That is, after all, how I ended up here in the first place.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Transformations
The most exciting thing about the end of a year, for me anyways, is all the potential a new year holds. You never know where life is going to take you, and that is both exhilarating and terrifying. I mean, take a look at me last Christmas.
That girl has no idea how much she's about to change! 2010 hasn't been the most fantabulous year of my life, but as it draws to a close I find myself looking at all the positives this year has had. There's been a lot of healing and building up strength, emotionally, mentally and physically. I've got a cute little apartment with a great flatmate in an awesome part of the city. I've discovered how truly incredible my friends here are. And I'm becoming more and more secure in myself.
But aside from that, this year I've also undergone a pretty amazing physical transformation. Since I started keeping track in March, I've lost 13kg. It hasn't been through any sort of gimmick diet or any of that bullshit. It's all been from regular exercise and eating sensibly. I've discovered a love of physical activity that I never would have imagined I had. Whatever the struggles and set backs of 2010, the transformation I've undergone this year shows that I won.
I still have a ways to go. I am currently 14kg away from my goal weight, which is no small feat. This time last year it wouldn't have even seemed possible, but now I know this is a goal that is well within my ability to reach. Whatever 2011 has in store for me - and I know it's going to be a tough year - I am going to kick some ass!
That girl has no idea how much she's about to change! 2010 hasn't been the most fantabulous year of my life, but as it draws to a close I find myself looking at all the positives this year has had. There's been a lot of healing and building up strength, emotionally, mentally and physically. I've got a cute little apartment with a great flatmate in an awesome part of the city. I've discovered how truly incredible my friends here are. And I'm becoming more and more secure in myself.
But aside from that, this year I've also undergone a pretty amazing physical transformation. Since I started keeping track in March, I've lost 13kg. It hasn't been through any sort of gimmick diet or any of that bullshit. It's all been from regular exercise and eating sensibly. I've discovered a love of physical activity that I never would have imagined I had. Whatever the struggles and set backs of 2010, the transformation I've undergone this year shows that I won.
I still have a ways to go. I am currently 14kg away from my goal weight, which is no small feat. This time last year it wouldn't have even seemed possible, but now I know this is a goal that is well within my ability to reach. Whatever 2011 has in store for me - and I know it's going to be a tough year - I am going to kick some ass!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Moment of Silence
2010 has not been the greatest year for me, so it's not really a big surprise that as the year draws to a close, the string by which my life has been hanging suddenly reduced itself to a thread. I've been feeling like I'm falling off the edge of a massive cliff, and naturally enough, I've been fighting that feeling. But all the fighting hasn't stopped me from falling. In fact, all it's done is given me a few extra cuts and bruises as I've desperately tried to cling to the rocks on my way down.
But something shifted in me in the last couple of days, and I decided to just let myself fall. Scary though it was, I decided to let go and see what happens. And what's happened has taken me by surprise. Once I allowed myself to just go with what I was feeling and be open about my insecurities, the massive cliff didn't seem so massive anymore. In fact, it's been more like falling out of bed. Yeah, I'm a bit startled and sore, but I'm OK, oh, and hey, now that I'm down here, I've found my missing underwear!
I've been incredibly stressed out this year, and my health has suffered from it. As the summer weather finally started to make itself know in Melbourne, I found myself with a pulled neck muscle and the start of a cold that was leaving me weak, dizzy, and tired. I know I'm in shit when my stress and anxiety takes on physical form, so I was feeling extra done in for this week. That combined with a major freak out about my PhD left me looking to spend my weekend curled up under the blankets, away from the world.
But, a couple chiropractor adjustments later and my neck is feeling fine again. A talk with my supervisors about my PhD has lifted some of the anxiety, and their encouragement to give myself a bit of down time means the world, because it means I can just curl up on the couch and watch unhealthy amounts of Buffy and not feel guilty about not working on my PhD. And - OK this one is gross, I'm warning you now - I decided to actually look at what was going on in my throat that was causing me so much pain and discomfort. Well! It's no wonder I've been feeling miserable! My tonsils are basically rotting.
Strange as this may sound, realizing that's what's happening really changed everything for me. Because my tonsils are horrible! They get infected all the freggin' time. For some reason, they haven't gotten infected in my time in Australia, so that's probably why I wasn't immediately aware of what was happening. It's an easy fix: I've got a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, he'll look in my mouth and say "Hmm, well it's probably an infection. We'll take a swab to be sure, but I'll send you away with a prescription for penicillin and you can start on it now." If I was in Canada I would refuse to leave his office until we had a serious discussion about removing my tonsils, but as my health insurance stands now, I would have to pay out of pocket for the surgery and then be partially reimbursed. So I think I'll wait on having that conversation until I have a medicare card. In the meantime, I'll keep myself on a steady stream of Neurofen for the pain and inflammation.
Because I've had rather a lot of illness this year, I was quite worried about there being something serious wrong with me. Now that I know it's just my 32nd tonsil infection, I suspect all the other health problems were just to do with being extra run down this year. As I've said, it's been a rough year! So now I am feeling quite justified in putting my feet up, watching an unhealthy amount of Buffy, eating some ice cream, drinking some ginger ale, reading books that have nothing to do with my PhD, and sleeping for as many hours as I damn well want. I am not going to yoga and I am not going swimming until this infection starts to clear up (which should be pretty quick once I get on the penicillin).
I walked down to the grocery store earlier this afternoon, and for the first time in quite some time I felt like myself. I had Jay-Z pumping in my headphones, telling the world that he don't give a fuck about their rules, and I just thought, "Since when am I life's bitch?! Since when do I let things being hard stop me? Since when do I let anyone else determine what is best for me?"
Fuck you 2010, I'm taking my life back.
This is death of auto tune, moment of silence.
But something shifted in me in the last couple of days, and I decided to just let myself fall. Scary though it was, I decided to let go and see what happens. And what's happened has taken me by surprise. Once I allowed myself to just go with what I was feeling and be open about my insecurities, the massive cliff didn't seem so massive anymore. In fact, it's been more like falling out of bed. Yeah, I'm a bit startled and sore, but I'm OK, oh, and hey, now that I'm down here, I've found my missing underwear!
I've been incredibly stressed out this year, and my health has suffered from it. As the summer weather finally started to make itself know in Melbourne, I found myself with a pulled neck muscle and the start of a cold that was leaving me weak, dizzy, and tired. I know I'm in shit when my stress and anxiety takes on physical form, so I was feeling extra done in for this week. That combined with a major freak out about my PhD left me looking to spend my weekend curled up under the blankets, away from the world.
But, a couple chiropractor adjustments later and my neck is feeling fine again. A talk with my supervisors about my PhD has lifted some of the anxiety, and their encouragement to give myself a bit of down time means the world, because it means I can just curl up on the couch and watch unhealthy amounts of Buffy and not feel guilty about not working on my PhD. And - OK this one is gross, I'm warning you now - I decided to actually look at what was going on in my throat that was causing me so much pain and discomfort. Well! It's no wonder I've been feeling miserable! My tonsils are basically rotting.
Strange as this may sound, realizing that's what's happening really changed everything for me. Because my tonsils are horrible! They get infected all the freggin' time. For some reason, they haven't gotten infected in my time in Australia, so that's probably why I wasn't immediately aware of what was happening. It's an easy fix: I've got a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, he'll look in my mouth and say "Hmm, well it's probably an infection. We'll take a swab to be sure, but I'll send you away with a prescription for penicillin and you can start on it now." If I was in Canada I would refuse to leave his office until we had a serious discussion about removing my tonsils, but as my health insurance stands now, I would have to pay out of pocket for the surgery and then be partially reimbursed. So I think I'll wait on having that conversation until I have a medicare card. In the meantime, I'll keep myself on a steady stream of Neurofen for the pain and inflammation.
Because I've had rather a lot of illness this year, I was quite worried about there being something serious wrong with me. Now that I know it's just my 32nd tonsil infection, I suspect all the other health problems were just to do with being extra run down this year. As I've said, it's been a rough year! So now I am feeling quite justified in putting my feet up, watching an unhealthy amount of Buffy, eating some ice cream, drinking some ginger ale, reading books that have nothing to do with my PhD, and sleeping for as many hours as I damn well want. I am not going to yoga and I am not going swimming until this infection starts to clear up (which should be pretty quick once I get on the penicillin).
I walked down to the grocery store earlier this afternoon, and for the first time in quite some time I felt like myself. I had Jay-Z pumping in my headphones, telling the world that he don't give a fuck about their rules, and I just thought, "Since when am I life's bitch?! Since when do I let things being hard stop me? Since when do I let anyone else determine what is best for me?"
Fuck you 2010, I'm taking my life back.
This is death of auto tune, moment of silence.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Let the Awesomeness Begin!
Do you know what today is cats and kittens? Today is the start of my favourite season in Melbourne: the Suzuki Night Market! This market brings together pretty much all of Melbourne's funkiest market vendors, along with really awesome food and drink* right outside my office every Wednesday evening from now until the beginning of March. This was one of the first things I discovered about Melbourne when I moved here in Feb '08. Unfortunately, I discovered it at the end of the market season and had to wait 8 months before I could really experience the full awesomeness of the Night Market. My tradition is to go every Wednesday. This usually lasts until after Christmas, when my fanatical obsession suddenly seems to die away, along with the funds in my bank account.
I'm extra excited about this year's Night Market because of all the weight I've lost this year. My shopping options should be greatly increased! Though after putting on 1kg I've said I can't buy any new clothes until I lose 2kg, and as this has not yet happened, tonight I will be looking with my eyes, not my wallet.
But given that most of my clothes are now too big for me, I am looking forward to stocking up on some funky summer threads over the coming months, and this has gotten my thinking...
Joni's Top Ten Style Tips #6: Experiment!
As the years have gone by, I've developed a certain way of dressing and quite frankly sometimes I bore myself. My funkier outfits, the ones that get me noticed, are not what I wear on a day-to-day basis, mostly because I cannot be bothered. But now that I am faced with having to slowly clear out all my old clothes and get new ones, I'm starting to give more thought to how I want to dress. Also, being on a budget means that I'm not just wandering into a store and picking up random things and seeing which ones stand the test of time anymore. Gone are the days of unjustified clothes shopping!
So knowing how I like to dress and what I've already got in my wardrobe, my mission as I seek out new additions is to try new things. I have a tendency to stick to what I know is practical instead of branching out and experimenting. I want to create a wardrobe that has a lot more versatility and creativity in it.
I also want to stop hording accessories that I never use! I went through this phase of being really into scarfs, and I amassed heaps of them. But at some point I stopped wearing them (though it took me awhile to catch up on the stop buying them front). I do like my scarfs, and many of them signal emotional connections to a certain time in my life. But I rarely wear them. Is that a side of me that I have moved on from? Or is it time for a scarf revival? This is one of the things I intent to experiment with and find out! The same applies to my collection of broaches, bangles, earrings and necklaces. So watch out for some retro revivals from the hidden depths of my accessory collections as I engage in some summer wardrobe experimentation!
*I can't personally vouch for the drink, aside from the Lemonade Stand, which was a massive let down...and what's up with the ban on photography?! What on earth makes them so special? Apparently the sangria is really great though.
I'm extra excited about this year's Night Market because of all the weight I've lost this year. My shopping options should be greatly increased! Though after putting on 1kg I've said I can't buy any new clothes until I lose 2kg, and as this has not yet happened, tonight I will be looking with my eyes, not my wallet.
But given that most of my clothes are now too big for me, I am looking forward to stocking up on some funky summer threads over the coming months, and this has gotten my thinking...
Joni's Top Ten Style Tips #6: Experiment!
As the years have gone by, I've developed a certain way of dressing and quite frankly sometimes I bore myself. My funkier outfits, the ones that get me noticed, are not what I wear on a day-to-day basis, mostly because I cannot be bothered. But now that I am faced with having to slowly clear out all my old clothes and get new ones, I'm starting to give more thought to how I want to dress. Also, being on a budget means that I'm not just wandering into a store and picking up random things and seeing which ones stand the test of time anymore. Gone are the days of unjustified clothes shopping!
So knowing how I like to dress and what I've already got in my wardrobe, my mission as I seek out new additions is to try new things. I have a tendency to stick to what I know is practical instead of branching out and experimenting. I want to create a wardrobe that has a lot more versatility and creativity in it.
I also want to stop hording accessories that I never use! I went through this phase of being really into scarfs, and I amassed heaps of them. But at some point I stopped wearing them (though it took me awhile to catch up on the stop buying them front). I do like my scarfs, and many of them signal emotional connections to a certain time in my life. But I rarely wear them. Is that a side of me that I have moved on from? Or is it time for a scarf revival? This is one of the things I intent to experiment with and find out! The same applies to my collection of broaches, bangles, earrings and necklaces. So watch out for some retro revivals from the hidden depths of my accessory collections as I engage in some summer wardrobe experimentation!
*I can't personally vouch for the drink, aside from the Lemonade Stand, which was a massive let down...and what's up with the ban on photography?! What on earth makes them so special? Apparently the sangria is really great though.
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