Life is Short But I Don't Always Want to Eat Dessert First

This year is going by so quickly. I simply cannot believe that we’re already into August. It seems like the older you get, the faster time flies. I know that’s not exactly an original observation but it’s a true one.

I don’t think I’m ready for it to be August. I feel like I’m just now getting a grip on my summer. It’s been so hot that I haven’t had chance to work outside as much as I’d have liked. Yet, my tomatoes are starting to ripen and my herbs are doing well. I even have a few ears of corn coming in although I suspect the squirrels might be as excited as I am by the fact that some of the husks had been pulled back on my largest piece today.

I do miss the lazy days of summer. That’s the thing with being an adult. Not only does time fly but there seems to be less and less time to just lie down and be lazy outside on the summer grass. I got one of those inspiration emails today that was intended to remind us how to simplify our lives. It started out by saying how things are much simpler when you’re a kid and it’s only as you get older that things get more complicated and most of this is our own fault.

For example, one of the main points was that as a child, if you’re thirsty, you have a drink. As an adult, it’s never that simple. I have to sheepishly say I can attest to that. For me, it becomes an issue of “What am I thirsty for? Hot or cold. If I go for hot, that means coffee since I forgot my tea bags at home. If I drink coffee do I want the strongest kind? Or I could have a Diet Coke although I know that’s not good for me. Tom Colicchio endorses Diet Coke but he gets criticized for it because it’s made of chemicals. Well, maybe I’ll just have some water but then I’ll probably end up drinking half a bottle and leaving the rest to sit there for ages because I never really want water. I just am supposed to drink it….”

You get the idea. It’s true. We do complicate things as we get older but I think that’s just the nature of being older. I like the idea of being a wide-eyed child who just takes things as they come but, truth be told, it’s never that easy. Sure, I could take the fact that I had to fire a perfectly nice man on Friday and just do my job and move on. Yet, how as a human can I do that when the whole time, I’m thinking of how he took out a loan to move for the job and how unfair it is that he’s being fired without being given a chance to try to fix his errors….

My point is that while I do enjoy a certain childish joy in life for the small things, the reality of being an adult is that nothing is every simple…black and white. It’s like that saying: Life is short, eat dessert first.

I get that. I get the philosophy behind that statement: Most people enjoy dessert most so why not just do what you want in life without dealing with formality and structure. Just jump straight to the good stuff.

Yet, in truth, if we could jump straight to dessert, would it be as rewarding? I say no. Then again, I’m not the hugest fan of desserts so my opinion probably doesn’t count for as much as that of someone with a major sweet tooth.

It might be fairer to change the phrase to something that does appeal to me such as “Life is short, just eat the damn cheese.” Which is probably the name of a book that’s actually out there…I mean there’s books about moving cheese and such…why not eating the damn cheese?

I digress. What I mean is that I like cheese almost more than any other food. However, because I try hard to watch what I eat and balance my meals, there’s not always room for cheese. Sometimes, I want nothing better than a salty bite of pecorino romano or the tang of a strong blue cheese but if I’ve already eaten rather badly that day, I usually don’t give in to the craving even if I want to give in to it.

Which leads us back to the “Life is short, just eat the damn cheese.” If I’m going to die anyway, why not enjoy the cheese when I want it?

I do. Sometimes. If I really, really, really want the cheese, I’ll eat it. However, most of the time, I’ll only want it because it’s there and I can have it. If I could eat nothing but cheese all the time, chances are my desire to eat the damn cheese would diminish.

Which is how I feel about the “Life is short, eat dessert first” saying. If you got to eat dessert first and ended with the soup, doesn’t that take away the slightly forbidden pleasure in eating dessert in the first place? For me, part of the delight of dessert is that it’s just a little decadent and it adds a realistic level of ‘naughtiness’ to a meal. I think to some degree, many of us feel a little guilt when we get to the dessert course and already quite full but something sweet might be rather nice. So, we either let ourselves get talked into it or we talk ourselves into it. If you really want dessert, it doesn’t take long.

So, in actuality, while it’s nice to want to eat dessert first or be as wide eyed as a child, life sometimes gets in the way. Things are more complicated as an adult. It would be nice to stay up all night if I wanted to because that’s what I felt like doing but the reality is that I have to work and that would simply be a bad idea. It’s the same as if all I wanted to eat all day was hot dogs. Sure, it might seem like a good idea to just go with the flow but is it, really? I think maybe sometimes knowledge gets in the way but mostly, it’s what complicates things. If we don’t know that eating hot dogs all day leads to high cholesterol, digestive issues and weight gain, does that make it ok to do it? I didn’t know that if I only ate fishfingers and chips as a child, it would be an unhealthy diet. Same with chocolate milkshakes.

No, I think that while it would be nice to keep the innocence of youth, that old wisdom thing kicks in. We are more aware of who we are and what we want. It makes it hard to just keep things simple when you know that while some things are black and white, most of the time there’s a lot of grey between the two opposites.

Still, there are some things that continue to remain simple: Mondays are not my favourite days. That doesn’t seem to change much no matter how quickly time flies. Today was no exception. Tomorrow will be better. That’s another simple-ism that I think remains true.

Sometimes, simple is good…

Happy Tuesday!

Seeds of Doubt and Insecurity....

There are some things in life than can make you feel just a wee bit smaller than you want to feel, a wee bit less than you want to feel and, overall, a wee bit more insecure than you want to feel.

Insecurity is a thing that hits first in your teens, I think. I think insecurity is born in you as a tiny seed. It exploits itself at a young age but doesn't take root until the beginning of your teenage years. In some cases it hits earlier or later but in the majority of us, the teenage years are where it really hits.

I watch my four year old niece. She is, as many four year old girls are, adorable. She has no qualms in the world. She's clever. She's funny. She's naughty but she can get away with it because she's adorable and she knows it. When she walks into a room with other children, there's no hesitation; my niece knows she's important and she doesn't expect anyone to feel otherwise. She's a presence and a positive one at that and there's absolutely no doubt in her mind that everyone should be delighted she's there.

And the thing is, everyone is delighted she's there. What's not to love about a beautiful little girl who knows who she is, has no doubt that she's loved and just simply wants to be part of everything?

That, to me, is a gift. It's something that I think every child should have. Perhaps every child does have at first and maybe it's life and experiences that take it away.

Or, perhaps, there are some children that don't have it because it's not born in them.

It's hard to say. As a child, I was always shy. I preferred the company of books to people once I learned to read. With my friends, I was always the type of child to prefer the company of one or two 'best' friends to a plethora of social cohorts. As a teen, this continued. I had a circle of friends I could trust, who would let me be me when I was with them.

I suppose everyone else was 'the enemy'.

It all came from insecurity. In my youth, I had friends who were cute or pretty. Me, I never felt that way. I wanted to be the pretty one but it never turned out that way. My best friend in my childhood was a very pretty girl of whom people would stop and say, "wow, that "X" is a pretty girl!" and there I would be, suddenly feeling lumpy and extraneous.

It's silly when I look back on it but that's when it started. It began the minute people began to recognize others around me but left me feeling...there. It's not such a bad thing. I mean, no one ever said, "look at that [Captain Monkeypants]! What an ugly child she is!" or "Wow, that [Captain Monkeypants] is an unpleasant child."

No, I was lucky that way. It's just that when you start feeling extraneous, extraneous you remain. It follows you through life. You can get through the teenage years and feel awkward, shy and useless by believing that life gets better.

And it does. College hits and you find the place you belong. That's a fun feeling. You begin to establish who you are in life. You may not be the cute, pretty one but you have a purpose and when you find the right set of friends, you feel like that purpose means something.

Insecurity starts to vanish. You start feeling like you matter. The horror of high school is gone and the reality of life sinks in.

But if you've felt insecure before, you'll feel insecure again. That's how I feel. Sure, as you get older, you can start to rationalize things. When someone says, "That "X", she sure is pretty!" you still have an urge to look in the mirror and wonder why no one has ever said that about you. You may not even care that you're not really pretty but still, when someone acknowledges someone else's cuteness or prettiness, you suddenly do care. You start to wonder what that cute/pretty person has that you don't. You start to look at them and analyze their makeup or skin regimen.

In short, you secretly start to feel small again even though the most insecure years are behind you. High school is over. Becoming an adult is a rite of passage. Being concerned about one's attractiveness should be behind you.

Except...it never is. It's always there.

For example, in my current office, we have a woman who comes in from one of our branch offices. She's young. She's 'cute'. I know this because when she's come for a brief stint and left again, most of our staff sit around and say, "that "X" is so pretty!"

And she is...in a way. An insecure person, say, like me, would look at "X" and say, wow, she wears too much makeup. Her eyebrows are plucked too much and if you removed the five layers of eye makeup, she wouldn't be pretty!"

But, yet....it doesn't matter. The seed is planted. The nag of insecurity has risen its ugly head. It results in instant comparisons, of wondering why I've never felt that 'pretty' in my life.

It's pathetic, really. It's a fatal flaw of human kind. We see that which others have and we instantly compare our lot in life. I'm not saying it's right. I'm saying it's true. I'm being honest.

We can spend years building ourselves up, of convincing ourselves that we're good enough, we're smart enough and, gosh darn it, people like us.!

But it all comes down to that sudden, unexpected moment of insecurity. No matter how hard we work to look good, it just takes one compliment to someone else, not to us, to send us into an instant tizzy.

As I said, it's pathetic. It's self-involved. It's...wrong. Why should we care? That person is not us! We're special.

It's all a question of self-perception. I'm not asking for pity. I'm not asking for compassion. More than anything, I want to know if it's just me. We could be the smartest/prettiest/coolest person in the universe but it only takes someone else to upstage us for a moment before we begin to doubt...right?

It's all rather silly really, particularly when, for the most part, in my life, at least, I'm happy. I'm not unhappy with how I look any more. Granted, looking like a Victoria's Secret model might have been more beneficial in life but since I don't have two heads, I have most of a working brain and I have a plethora of creativity, it's not all so bad.

But it still doesn't stop me comparing myself. It's in everything. Why is Stephanie Meyer a bestseller with the Twilight series and I can't even get an agent to read my entire manuscript? Why am I not married as so many of my friends are? Why is the paint on my walls splotchy when my friends' houses look professionally painted.

The list goes on. It's life. It's insecurity. I'm sure everyone has it. I'm sure it's normal. It just sucks that even when you're a grown up, happy with your life for the most part, you can find yourself stopped dead in your tracks by something you didn't see coming, something that makes you suddenly feel insecure.

It's life. It's human. Yet it makes us feel far less so. In my case, at least, I start feeling even more angry with myself that I feel so useless and ineffectual. It's a vicious cycle. It's all rather silly. Perhaps the moral is that you never truly escape from high school, even as the years pass.

Or, perhaps, the moral is that you can escape from high school. It's just that you need to believe in yourself and not compare yourself to others and wonder why your life isn't like theirs.

After all, if everyone's life was the same, life would be a boring place.

Insecurity sucks. Perhaps that means it's time to kiss it goodbye.

Happy Wednesday.

Day 2: The Polar Opposite of My Last "Day 2"

Today was Day 2 of my new job. If life were like a video game or, even an episode of a TV show, I'd have had that fact depicted over my head in the form of a chyron that said "DAY 2."

It's interesting. My last "Day 2" was the second day after I'd turned in my resignation. It was horrible. My boss was in his stage of our 'breakup' that was a cross between depression and anger. It was a horrible day. It was the day where I finally cried because my boss had been so mean and the fallout of my decision to leave my last job was intense.

This "Day 2" was about as opposite as you can imagine. For one thing, I didn't feel a sense of depression and gloom as I went about getting ready to go into the office. When I did get to the office, there was a pleasant atmosphere. I wasn't being called into impromptu meetings in which I was forced to explain my decision.

Instead, as a pleasant diversion, I was, instead, treated to a good day in which I felt that my decision was explained for me by the powers of the universe. For one, I received more training. This, in itself, is different from my last job. My new boss is nice. He's not just the type of nice you get when you're new. I think he's just...nice. When we finished our training session, he assigned me some tasks but told me no pressure. I thought I had an idea of what to do so...I did it.

Truth be told, actually doing stuff at a new job is nervewracking. I tend to like my hand to be held until the very last minute. As a child, I was painfully shy. As an adult, I'm much less so but the recumbant gene of youth makes me feel shy and nervous when confronted with the idea that I have to talk to strangers. Fortunately, with adulthood comes maturity and while my instinct is to shy away from making phonecalls, the reality is that that once I've dialed a few numbers, it's quite easy to babble to strangers.

As a result, I had a rather successful day. What iIdidn't realize is that my boss didn't actually expect anything. This is not to say he's treating me like I'm special...as in the type of special that rides a special bus and that he didn't expect anything because he knew I would be able to do it. It's just that he's normal and he knows I'm new. Thus, he didn't expect me to do very much.

Nevertheless, I gave it a go and it turned out to be quite fun. I had a productive day. I'm already getting the hang of the job. I already love it or, at least, the idea of it. It's a lovely feeling to know that the people I'm calling to interview for a potential job may not not have a job at all and that they may be glad of my phone call. It's nice to know that even though I'm having to interrupt people's days, it's for a good cause.

Most of all, it's nice to have results. It's nice to see that the work I'm doing is yielding something.

This may sound dramatic. Yet, when you've been in a job for two years where the yield of your work is measured in the fact that you don't get fired, it's ok to be dramatic.

What's more dramatic is when your boss leaves for the day and makes a point of coming by your office and actually saying, "You did a great job today," that for a split second, you suddenly want to a) either hug him in gratitude, b) have a brief cry because you're simply not used to any type of feedback and even the small stuff is overwhelming at this point in time or, more likely c) where your mouth falls open with shock for a split second because you're simply not used to praise. Yes, this is dramatic for a job. I get that. It shouldn't be dramatic, that's the point. Instead, this is how a good company/manager/boss operates. You should always know when you do well.

For me, today, it was a start. More than that, it was an affirmation that, if there was any doubt at all that leaving the familiar cocoon of my last job, regardless of the problems, that doubt is assuaged and I have, in fact, done the right thing in leaving.

I'm hoping that as time passes and my job suddenly feels familiar rather than slightly foreign as it does currently, none of these positive things will strike me as odd. Instead, I'll get comfortable with the fact that they are, actually, quite normal.

At the very least, I'm hoping my job becomes normal in that it becomes the way I earn money and that I do it well but it's not the focal point of my life. While I know my job supports my writing, my writing has been there to define me and who I am. Lately, with my past job, I felt like my writing fell short because my soul was being sucked dry. Slowly, but surely, my soul will come back to me. I can feel that now and it's nice to have hope again.

It's also nice to have a little bit of praise and feedback because, sometimes, that's all it takes in jobs, in life and in everything else.

Happy Wednesday!

Missing Pieces...

This week is going rather slowly. I don't know if it's because a three-day weekend is on the horizon or that time has actually slowed down. I just know that time is going by slowly at work and that the days seem rather long.

I think it might also be because I've hit one of those times in life where it just feels like you're just not going anywhere; the world around you continues to move and you feel a little left behind.

I'm sure, eventually, I'll catch up with the world again. Yet, at the moment, my analogy is that I'm standing on a beach watching the waves crash, never touching me and mostly ebbing away from me. It's one of those times in life where people have their own lives going on and get busy with them and I'm the only one without much going on. It's not a complaint or a criticism but there are times in life that are rich with friends. Then there are others where you tend to feel as though you're standing on that beach alone, wondering why you're not moving and swirling like the waves.

I know, that's hopelessly pretentious and writer-y but, well, I'm a writer. Let me be melodramatic in my analogies.

I wonder. Am I the only one who feels like that? Am I the only ones who sometimes feel that you're watching friends and family live their lives and you don't feel like you're really living yours to the fullest? That there's something missing?

Ironically, I'm not terribly unhappy with my life. Aside from being bored out of my mind by my job, it's not completely miserable at work. I don’t yet get that crushing feeling of dread when I get up in the mornings to go to work like I've had with other jobs, like I had when I had to go to school sometimes.

I have a rather nice little house that suits me quite well. I have two puppies that keep me busy, entertained and well-loved. I have my writing which, even when that feels like it's not going as well as it should…it's still going. I have hobbies. I have a great family. I have my health.

So, what's missing? I feel as though there's a portion of something that I need to feel fulfilled and, for the life of me, I can't place what it is.

These times in life are perplexing. It's probably why I took the personality tests last week. I was hoping to learn something about what I was missing.

Some people might say it's because I'm still single. That could be it, I don't know. It would be nice to come home and have someone to complain to about my day but I do actually complain to the puppies who cock their head and look at me like I'm nuts. It's probably not that different from having a husband or even a boyfriend.

But I don't know if that's it. It doesn't feel like I'm missing a person in my life or I'm just going through a time in life where I need to figure out what's next on the cards. I'm contemplating publishing my precious and most beloved series of novels that got me writing in the first place. They're the nearest and dearest creations I have and deep down, I was hoping that I'd be able to get them published by someone else rather than to self-publish them.

That's actually an interesting dilemma. I've been spouting off about starting a self-publishing revolution but do I believe in it enough to put my 'babies' out there?

I think I do believe in it enough. Those books are the ones that have had the most response from my readers. They're books with three strong characters whose voices I still occasionally hear in my head. As much as I love The Reluctant Demon, I never heard the voice of Malkos in my head. I probably heard Emmy Sands', my female protagonist, but that's mostly because Emmy is, uh, sort of me only more fictionalized.

But I hear the voices of my 'boys' in my head and I feel like they're telling me to go for it, to put them out into the world. They're a lot darker than my current novel. These books deal with demons of a human nature rather than demons in the attic.

Maybe if I put them out there, I'll feel more complete. I just don't know. I'm hoping this phase of my life ends soon and I can join those people who are the 'waves on the beach', moving along without me, busy with their lives while I stand there watching and wondering why I'm standing there watching.

I just don't know what it is that I'm missing…

That's probably why it's missing in the first place.

Happy Thursday!

Time Traveling...Again.

I time traveled again today and, as before, it happened without much warning.

I spent the weekend at my parent's house since I have two nieces who recently celebrated birthdays and I, the dutiful aunt, had gifts for them. Having discovered that the oldest of my two nieces is a reader, just as I'd been as a child, I thought back to what I would have liked at her age. As a result, I ordered three of my favourite books from childhood from a UK based used book store. The books were, "The Owl Who was Afraid of the Dark," "The Worst Witch," and, my all time favourite- "Dogger"- a book about a little boy who loses his cherished stuffed toy dog but through the kindness of his older sister is reunited with it.

Sadly, I think my niece wasn't very impressed with the books at all. I'm hoping when she gets a little older, she'll enjoy them just as I did. If not, well...I tried and next time a gift-giving occasion arises, I'll try again to find something I think she'd like.

Anyway, aside from the birthdays, I had lunch with a friend which was very nice since she, too, is a writer and it's always nice to talk writing for a while.

I also was asked by my parent's if I could clean out my old bedroom since my dad wants to start one of his slightly tumultuous renovation projects which involves remodeling my old room. Actually, from the sounds of it, it sounds a little like it's going to demolish my old room but he seems to know what he's doing so...we have to trust him. For now, at least.

So, I spent a good part of today going through my old things which is where the time traveling came in. I found remnants of many ages and stages of my life from the very first 'published' piece of writing I did- when I was about nine, we had to write a fable so I wrote, "How the Sheep Got his Fleece." My teacher liked it so much she typed it up and mounted it on the wall for everyone to see. She said, "I want you to know what it looks like to see your name in print." It was nice to find that old story again.

I found the giant card, decorated with hand-sketched and coloured pictures of Mickey Mouse that my old friend, Lee Hudson, had drawn. Inside were all kinds of notes and messages wishing me luck in America. It was signed by most of my teachers and all of the people in my house at school. It was a bittersweet find- one that makes me smile at the thoughtfulness of my peers but sad that it was another life and another time. Some of those signatures belong to friends I have on Facebook but others...I'll probably never know where they ended up.

I also found my slightly cringe-worthy high school box. It was an old cardboard box, every inch covered by Sharpie-drawn pictures, words and cartoons that my friend, Amy, had done for me. When I'd originally got the box, it had a stuffed monkey in it. I didn't want to throw the box away so it became my memento box. Inside, I found old yearbooks, nostalgic trinkets that reflected my crushes and crazes of my adolescent years. I found pictures, cards and all kinds of memorabilia that is a visual trail of how I used to be.

I found college papers, articles from when I was a journalism major. They were graded and had enthusiastic comments on them from one of my favourite professors- Dr. Caroline Dow. Unfortunately, I found out she passed away from cancer a few years ago so I couldn't bring myself to throw those papers away. She'd believed in me so much and I know I disappointed her when I changed from a journalism major to theatre. To this day, I wonder if I made the right choice but since I liked where I've ended up, I can't look back and regret the decision.

I also found boxes of theatre playbills that is a chronological history of my obsession with theatre, photos of my high school friends, photos of me in high school. I was a supremely shy girl, very lacking in self-esteem, thinking myself very unattractive. I still have traces of that but, for the most part, have accepted that I am what I am and that's not so hideous. It's amazing to see those pictures and realize that I was a bit stupid to think I was so unattractive and ugly back then. I don't look so bad. Some photos, I think I actually look quite pretty. I hate that I couldn't see that then but I suppose most people doubt themselves in high school.

I continued my sorting and unearthed a collection of trinkets and papers from when I was a theatre intern in Maine for a summer and an apprentice the next. I loved Maine. If I were ever to be wealthier, I'd get a summer cottage up there. There's nothing better than the feel of an evening by the fire on a cool, fresh Maine beach. We used to go to the beach after the shows were done and sit out, drink beer and just talk. It was a great couple of summers.

I found articles I'd had published in the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette when I'd been working there as a receptionist/library assistant. Short on staff, the features editor was looking for some articles and I volunteered. One of them made it to the front page of the Lifestyles section.

I kept all the mementos I mentioned above but I also threw away bags and bags of things that meant something at the time but didn't hold enough strong memories to justify keeping them. I am a pack rat of sorts but I also have the ability to know when to let things go which makes for a nice balance.

Essentially, I spent part of today looking back over my life through things that I've kept to remind me of it. It was a nice day, if a little sad. It's always bittersweet to look back at our lives and realize how far we've come even though some things were left behind. The things that are important to us change a little over time even though the really important things like friends, family and passions stay the same.

I kept the things that were most important to me. Now I just have to find somewhere to put them. That's the problem with memories; they always need a place to live. Yet I don't want to lose them so even if it means cluttering up a closet, I'll keep them with me as long as I can.

Because, sometimes, it's nice to travel back in time.

Happy Monday!