This week had a theme for me: The triad broken.

The Maid
A daughter picked up, assaulted, and dumped to lay beaten and bleeding on the road.

The Mother
Far enough along in her pregnancy that the child should have survived, but her body rejected the fetus and then started attacking her own cells.

The Matron
T-boned as a car tried to squeeze that last quarter second out of a stale turning signal.

I can't even count the number of stories that feature this archetype, and today they were the living dead. It was a very surreal experience. There are moments that feel familiar, and people you seem to know. Wounds you know you will never forget. This was all of that. It doesn't make sense, perhaps, but then again it does. They are every woman. A story to each of them.

But what then?

Tears and a box of Timbits.

Humble experiences, indeed.

Went to Rapid Fire theatre the other night and saw a man, quite normal and etc. But even with him on stage and me in the audience . . . hormones. Can't even put my finger on it. Dreamed about him last night. Not him as a person, but as the object for my hormones.

Some guys are like that for me. I used to worry about what it meant for Beloved and myself, but not any longer. Hormones are hormones. So long as you don't do anything about it, it's just a little something to spice up your days.

But what exactly is it about these people that acts like a beacon?

Currently reading a book called The Female Brain by Louann Brizendine. It's a neuropsychiatrists take on female emotions based on hormones and neurones. Goes through the different stages of development and new research that makes me feel, for once in my life, absolutely normal.

Last week I found myself on the floor crying for no reason at all. I felt like I was mourning something, but there was nothing to mourn. Everything was perfectly fine in my life. No reason to be sad, or angry, or devestated. But I was. And bloody confused to be, I might add. My brain tried coming up with something to blame the emotions on, but tossed every explanation aside. There simply was no reason to feel that way. Every try to argue with your emotions? A battle lost before it is started.

The next day I felt ashamed for having cried. Hate crying. Waste of water, waste of time, weakness. The day after I was emotionally neutral. The day after that a vixen on the prowl.

Why?!

Confused out of my head and heart, I took Beloved out on a date. With some spare time before Rapid Fire Theatre was to open, we wandered into Chapters. That is where I found Dr Brizendine's book. A light was shining down on it like one of those corny movie scenes. Adele sang the hallelujah's as she rolled in the deep. The frugal little me shelled out twenty sumthin' dollars on a splurge of the moment pop-psych book.

I cancelled my appointments with everyone and moved my March 13th bath appointment to right friggen now, splurging myself with two hours of pink bubbles, pumpkin pie ice cream, and a book that I felt I needed to read immediately.

Moments like that I feel that somewhere, somehow, someone is interceding on my behalf. This book said exactly what I needed to hear at exactly the moment I needed to hear it.

I am starting to feel I can relax when my hormones do bazaar things on me, shifting my reality hither and yonder. Yes, that random man was attractive. Possibly he had not had a date with anyone for a very long time. Possibly he just finished with a date. Whatever the case, my brain was satisfied, and with Beloved at my side, so was I.

This desperate franticness I feel about school, explained. The seemingly random depressions where the whole world feels as it hasn't held a moment of happiness since it's creation, while my brain screams I was happy just the day before, explained. My mother, explained. HER mother, explained.

A path recommended, a course set, a future of emotions at the waiting. Enjoy them, then let them flow over you, through you, past you and beyond.

Because as the wisest say, it is a beautiful world at least 24 days a month.

I accepted a challenge from a friend.

I accepted a challenge to myself.

I give that challenge to you.

Become a better person every moment of your life. Enjoy the adversity that makes you stronger. Work through it and look back at the person you used to be. Compare it to the person you are now. Learn and grow. It is the only way we can truly move forward. Stagnant things die.

Don't feel you have adversity? Tackle someone else's. Lord knows, that is one thing that will never go extinct.

All you truly ever have in life is your soul. I want mine to be as strong and beautiful as it can be.

It's easy enough to say, sitting on a patch of sun filled carpet, napping dog at my side. The doing becomes more difficult, as it must. And that is okay.

People have terrible moments, but that doesn't make them terrible. Events can seem like divine malice, but in the end they balance out. It is the world we live in and I wouldn't have it any other way. Without villains, how could we ever have heros? Without obstacles to overcome, we would never discover our genius.

At the end of the road in this long life of ours, you will have only yourself to answer to. Did you do well? Was it worth it? Would you do it all again? 

Yes. YES. YES!

Now and always, strive for no regrets.

"Oh when they come for me, I'll be gone."

Good lord, ain't it the truth. Life is moving in a whirlwind and I am not stopping for anyone. Picking up pieces and putting things together as I go. Making what I can, what I need.

"And I'm just a student of the game that they taught me."

The bad mouthing, the backstabbing, the horribleness of the people behind the lines, venting and ranting on each other. How does that even fucking help? Rolls off like water. Has to. I can't be seen to see. Can't be seen to hear. Just another tool to be gripped in the hands of others, pointed in a direction and used. Do what I will when they are gone, but again, how does that help?

"Rock in every stage and every place they brought me."

I wear them down. Force them to recognize me. Not equal in experience, but equal in humanity. You will know me. Yes, the name is a bit much. Live with it. Not The Student, Hey You, It, The Girl. I am a future coworker who will be coming in when you call in sick to cover your ass. I'm there when your hands are full, picking up the workload, filling in the gaps. You will remember me.

"Opposite of weak, opposite of slack."

And we go, all of us, pushing to that finish line. Every day I look at my mail there are more exams, more assignments. More evaluations, meetings, interviews. All of this is so close to being done. So close, but every day when I go home, I hear the alarms, the ringing bells and call to arms.

"And all the people say . . . "

And they say and they say and they say. Better stop talking and try to catch up. When the day is done, I will be seeing you on the other side. 

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Life, you are a funny funny bird.

Blog and journaling provides a wonderful release for emotion. I am so grateful to have it, but more than that, I am grateful to the people who somehow or another saw it and were supportive. How can you give up with a cheering squad?! You know who you are. Thank you!
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 Had our clinical prep classes. I really should have counted how many times the coordinator said "fail" or "grounds for dismissal". But then again, perhaps it would have been too depressing.

On the shiny side: one exam down. 30 summat to go.

9 months of school. Just 9 more months. Let the morning sickness commence.

Mon dieu.

Am I an adult now? I don't remember signing a release form to hand over my childhood. When do I become able to say, "I am an adult" and not mentally cringe and hope my parents don't catch me?

I mean, sure, you reach the age of majority, you move out, you get employed, pay for your education, have sex, get married, have kids, buy a car, get a house, go on vacation, buy RRSPs and contribute to mutual funds (not recommended right now, but theoretically, mutual funds are always an option). That all seems pretty par for the course. None of that makes you an adult.

( The inner ponderings that will eventually lead to a suitably unsuitable ending that is strangely satisfying . . . for the writer anyway. )

I leave you with XKCD, proving once again that it's not how many words you write, but what you do with them. 

 Stick a small enough camera up your nose and you can see your vocal cords. Uncomfortable, but effective.

I really could have done without that experience. My vocal cords are not good little soldiers. 20 minutes on google got me that much, but I won't tell the good doctors. 

On the plus side, I got to watch the live action video of my inner anatomy. Second shiny: since the attacks have been more frequent this year, I've been able to recognize and mostly avert.

I've got a referral to a speech pathologist for breathing recovery exercises, which should help. Perhaps it is time for Thai Chi?

Ooh! Thought of a third shiny: dancing is still good. It's just cardio exercises with increased breathing that I have to be careful with. I would still like to be able to do them though. No surviving the apocalypse if you can't follow the first rule! Screaming is of course a no-no.


On a side note: double tap is my new favourite phrase.

It's easy to say that the only story making is writing, but then when you aren't writing, you have the unfortunately fate of not being a writer. It's difficult to choose, writing over education, writing over work, writing over family and friends and life in general. It took me a long time to realize that the writing itself, while a craft, gave me no greater enjoyment than any of my other crafts. It is the story making that I need like water or air. Story making is so integral to my being, that without it, I am simply a body.

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Story crafting, it happens during every moment of every day, awake or asleep. The mind creates, it is only my poor fingers that have difficulty keeping up.

As you all have probably figured out, I'm terrible at coming up with witty titles. What it is, is what it is. The same with this one. Compliments make people feel good, are fun to give, and when heartfelt they boost your relationship score to the moon! So why in the world don't people do it more? For God's sake, if you're thinking, "wow, that hair cut is amazing," say it!

"Your smile is so beautiful."
"Your shoes are smokin!"
"You are such a happy person!"
"Holy Hanaha, you are stunning. Please bear my children." (Joking. Sorta. You had to have been there!)

If there is one advantage to having no brain to mouth filter, it's the ability to compliment people before thinking how weird it is. I don't know how many times I have gone up to someone just to give them a compliment, then gone about my business. People are so guarded, so jaded these days when it comes to compliments. Mall gypsies, salesmen, beggers, coworkers, hell, some days it feels like everyone gives you a compliment only when they want something in return. To say something that I truly mean, for no other reason than that I believe it and I think it might make someone's day . . . there's magic in that.

Sometimes as I'm walking away, I feel that I merely confused someone. But other times . . . other times it's like the sun has come up and is shining down on the world. My feet are light and my whole body is smiling.

Tonight I got a compliment that completely made my day. "You were amazing. You really love dancing, and it shows." Then she walked away. I can't even count the mistakes I had made during our practice run for the other students, but that this woman saw something in my dancing that still touched her . . . Like I said, it made my whole day. Hell, my whole week.

Completely negates the man who called me a fat cow this morning.

My faith in the better part of humanity has been replaced by a single comment from a perfect stranger. Thank you!. May your journey be filled with joy and good friends.

 I am terrible at surprises. I am terrible when I give them, and terrible when I get them. My inner child is very loud and it tends to bounce. A lot. This usually leads to a type of mental torture that either drives me to become nothing more than a rapid animal similar to The God of Cake. Let that image settle in a bit.

The solution would seem to be not to plan anything until the day before so that hey, I'm surprised too! Wow! Is that what I got you?! Amazing!

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Dream Status: Mr Rochester-esqe figure, but his crazy wife is played by a very pregnant Tunsanian woman who gets herself cryod on horseback. She's pissed, she's hormonal, and she's on a friggen war horse. I wish I could have finished this dream! Big storm leading in, and Thornfield is this amazing place hidden away in the desert. Ugh! Stupid alarm clocks.

Alright, my goal is not to bombard you guys with information about consumerness and links to places that you really don't want to go. Tonight we're going to start a wedding website and hopefully that's where all of that stuff can go.

For now, let me just say that I'm the research girl and part of that is plowing through umpteen million sites and forum posts. Yesterday I learned another language.

Example:
We want an AHR with our NAD, but first we have to get a TA to organize the DW for those OOT. Talked to FH about getting my FMIL and FFIL to an AI resort and it might be poss, but still a PITA. My MOH is all for a gun toting hen party, but first have to pick the BM based on GM #'s. At least we're skipping STD's and doing a WW and early MIB's instead. And the WC comes with the AI and usually with a WB as well, so not too bad. At least planning helps me TTA a certain something. ~_^

*bows*

 Not just by one. By the scores.

On Family Day, overlooking mountains and valley, Beloved asked me to marry him.

None of my family is here, but they are all around me. Beloved's family has always welcomed me into their arms and homes. My friends have always been there despite my occasional bouts of  hyperactivness. I feel honoured to have such wonderful people in my life.

Now I can truly call some of them family in all meanings of the word.

Just to break the sap train before Hallmark descends for a visit . . .

With the advancement of gmail's free US and Canada calling, as well as (come on, you knew this was coming) facebook, my blood peeps can seem to be closer than when we were living in the same state. Hell, I certainly talk to some of them more now than when we were in the same country. ^_^

Here's wishing everyone a happy Family Day, Reading Week, February, and Winter!



PS: OMG the ring is gorgeous! Seriously kablamo! I've been trying really hard not to say that . . . but seriously!!!! Handmade with solid Canadian diamonds, it looks like something I had to time travel to acquire. Good lord, this man knows my taste. There's flecks of charcoal in the one symbolizing the past--and now I love it even more! I'm trying not to be materialistic, I really am, but Moss, Spence, and etc, you guys can kiss it! Okay, I'm done. Phew!

The funniest video I've managed to watch this year is unfortunately from school. And yes, I did do this entire skit in my head for an exam.
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