You wouldn't believe me if I told you

Very little to wax eloquent upon today (not that I wax eloquently ever. Actually, I don't think one can wax oneself in an eloquent fashion. Its just not that kind of activity). I tried out a dress I'd bought a few weeks ago for an embarrassingly low price and though its shorter than I normally wear (short enough to cause consternation upon bending over) its quite flattering and hides the tummy. All was well and good until Ms. Molly decided to run after Aaron as he left for work, down the hallway. Now, normally this isn't an issue and I let her explore for a bit until she chickens out and runs back to the door. However, the neighbors had their front door open this morning and Ms. Molly decided that exploring their apartment was much more interesting than the hallway. My problem was the dress - how does one pick up a squirming cat if bending forwards exposes the rear, and crouching down er...makes parts drafty that normally aren't so drafty? I chose to expose my rear and prayed that the neighbors behind me wouldn't open their door at an inopportune moment. Damn cats.

Anyhow, I ventured into the mall today with a list of things that required purchase and as always, wound up with more than I really needed. But 2 pairs of jeans at $30 each could not be denied. A fall skirt for $12 (down from $45) and a few late summer tops (both less than 1/2-price) were worth the trip. The main purpose was to replace some unmentionables and get my duff out of the house for a short time, but I found out how much a transformer and adapter will cost for our trip. I'm not sure that I want to spend $50 for a transformer and adapter sufficient to charge our camera battery, because the thing won't get much use in the foreseeable future beyond this trip, but I also know that we'll need to charge the camera battery at least 2-3 times while we're there. I know our friends will likely have something we can use while in London, but I'm not quite what to do about Paris yet.

At the moment, I'm typing this in my in-laws computer room. My father in law, lovely man, is a bit nutty about detailing family cars and has a very particular approach to washing and waxing. I've heard about this ritual throughout my relationship with Aaron (almost 8 years now!) but have never actually witnessed the phenomenon in person, so when the opportunity arose to observe, I was compelled. Our car, like an acolyte awaiting its initiation ceremony, is resting in the in-laws garage in preparation for its session tomorrow. Apparently, the car must be thoroughly bathed the night before and let dry inside overnight so that when waxing begins the following morn, there's no offensive moisture to impede the process. I've never seen anyone wash a car with such rapt attention before. My father in law spent more time attending to the wheels than I think I spend washing the entire car. I almost never see anyone dry cars by hand. I've never ever witnessed anyone employing special brushes to clean grill work. I've never EVER seen anyone dry around the wheel bolts before using a particular cloth, selected from the pile for its unique absorptive properties. I can't decide if I'm amused or alarmed as I watch my husband learn like a disciple from a prophet. I'll post some photos of the waxing ritual tomorrow. I have been banished from helping and will be spending the day in a lounge chair outside, alternately knitting and reading, watching the two of them work. No complaints here!

Colourway du sloth

So its been a week since I've stopped long enough to write and reflect and you might figure hmmm...she must have been very busy. I suppose it depends on how you define busy. I've been wallowing in slothitude. After 3 weeks of insanity, I needed a week of doing nothing but hermit- hood and utter relaxation. Oh, that and I was sick. It seems that my immune system, along with the rest of my body decided to relax as well, resulting in a (sadly, temporary) loss of several pounds in a 24 hour period. So what have I been up to? Lets see:

Wednesday - well it was Aaron's holiday/flex day so we got to a lazy start and were out of the house by noon-ish with the intent of getting hair cuts and shopping down main street. We weren't able to get an appointment with Aaron's stylist (how come my husband has a preferred hairdresser and I don't?) until 3:00 so we had a burger at the new location of Vera's on Main. Well, I had a burger, Aaron had the cheese steak. Well, until we saw the size of my gi-freaking-normous burger anyhow. The thing had to be more than 2.5 pounds! We shared meals and both of us were incredibly stuffed. We wandered until 3:00, had hairs cut, and finally went shopping down Main. I purchased a very pretty casual dress - a retro purple and brown print, with a deep V neck and wrap-style with a belt detail that for once is positioned in a spot that doesn't make me look ridiculous. I also picked up a cute black tank top with an asymmetrical grey print floral detail. I was so tempted to enter Birkland Bros, a LYS but alas, the boy had to hie home for a mountain bike ride. What to do with the rest of my evening? Silly question - finish Harry Potter #7 of course! (Still processing, don't wish to discuss at the moment)

Thursday - A day of slothitude. I woke up intending upon cleaning bathrooms, tidying desk and preparing for work on my Bio 11 curriculum next week - or if I'm lucky, this week! But no, interesting (at the time) movies on the Turner Classic Movie channel and my sleeve was calling. Suffice to say that I finished knitting sleeve #2 and started the back and only put it down once the hands were cramping too much to maintain even tension. I wonder if there's a 12-step for knitters.

Friday - I began Friday feeling rather ill, and with a pounding headache. By 10:00 I'd made several trips to the bathroom and each one was increasingly dramatic. I hate the flu. Ugh. The only redeeming part of the day, as crappy as it was, was that Aaron was sick too and came home from work by 12:00 so sleep beside me and race me to the bathroom occasionally. I have to say, that cats are excellent company when you're ill. Molly on the left, dumb as she is, its lovely to cuddle with when you feel like crap. Both of us were feeling better by about 8:00 but he bounced back much better than I did.

Saturday - With Aaron at Whistler all day (apparently well enough to ride but also watch a big race/festival up there this weekend) I spent most of the day with recuperating on the sofa. I more or less slept in between reading 2.5 L.M. Montgomery novels and 2 chick lit novels I had sitting in reserve on my bedside table. For some reason, I felt compelled to read the Emily series again. Its not challenging reading, and other than being overly saccharine at times, its somewhat inspiring. I suppose reading LM Montgomery for me while sick is like curling up with a childhood teddy bear for others. Its comforting and familiar, though you may not have done it for years. I wasn't well enough to consider any of the events happening around town (Fireworks at English Bay, Luminares Lantern Festival at Trout Lake, Taste of the City Tasting Festival at PNE fairgrounds) and so spent some time knitting. I needed a break from the sweater so started a new quick knit scarf out of a lovely thick yarn in my stash. I decided to work a simple chevron pattern but after a few inches, decided to set it aside and curl up with yet another book, then early to bed.

Sunday -Another day spend with Aaron, and it started with cinnamon french toast. Oh, how I love living with that man! We drove up to North Van to go by a bike thinggummy (derailer something or other) and then over to UBC to return a few books that I'd borrowed. Though the city librarians are on strike like the rest of the public sector, the university's libraries are open so I still have a shot at some fresh fiction. We came home and Aaron gardened (mostly involving deftly depopulating the bug community and inventing new invectives for leaf miners) while I make several feet progress on the scarf. We dined on an amazing dinner of garlic mashed potatoes in the skins, tomato cucumber and chickpea salad, steamed broccoli (my request) and sirloin steak with mushrooms in a red wine reduction, topped with blue cheese crumble. No wonder why I weigh no less post-flu! Afterwards, we went out for dessert with a few of Aaron's friends who are in from out of town, one from across the country and one from across the world. It was a busy day, but a good day.

That leaves us with today, Monday . I finally checked my email for the first time in about a week, eeep! 17 outstanding messages. Better get on that. I finished the finished the chunky chevron scarf and am pleased with how it turned out. Tis nice to feel like I've finished something. I also blocked the first sleeve - an accomplishment for me since I've never blocked lace before (see pictures below) . I also managed to iron 16 shirts and now have no ironing left in the pile. Yay me! Whoo hoo! It hasn't been like that in over 2 months! I also managed to tidy up a bit, and wrote this. So there it is. Hmm. Looking upon this list it seems I've been busier than I thought, but busy doing very little. I need to reconnect with girlfriends and reconnect soon. This coming weekend I may be up in Kelowna with friends, close to the Grey Monk Winery and then the following week with family on the island, but I needs me some girlfriend time.

Momentary Madness before the Dawn

Yesterday marked a celebration of sorts. I began the morning with a paper nearly complete - really only final edits and a conclusion to go. By 1 in the afternoon-ish, I was on my way to drop it off along with the blasted reference books which did little else than give my arms a workout. So much for my strategy of finding basic information in one place. I dropped it off, not into my professors hands (which would have been much more reassuring) but into a folder in a filing cabinet in an obscure mail room in the same building as my class. I didn't even pull out the folder myself, because a classmate was in the room when I got there and had just put her paper inside. Now, normally I'd check everything over, being "anal type-A" from time to time. I'd normally check the folder, check my name, check the presence of the paper in the envelope, check the folder again, check the drawer, check the names of others' papers in the folder, and basically spend a whole lot longer than necessary. I much prefer giving it to a prof, because if the prof loses the damn thing, I'm not accountable. I think, though, by the time I dropped the damn thing off this time I was feeling like an inpatient 5 year old in the department store with mom "Are we DONE yet?" "Can we GO NOW?" So, in the folder (I think) it went, into the correct (I think) drawer, and now I'm done.

To celebrate, I first managed something non-school on my to-do list: renew the drivers licence. Now, I had assumed based on relatively recent experiences in the passport line, that I'd be there a while. However, the only person in front of me was the young, skinny, over-fragranced eastern European woman who just entered the door before I did. I almost had to stop, actually. Her perfume was tangibly heavy, like a wall of molasses syrup. She was holding up the line, trying to tell the woman at the front responsible for assigning line numbers about the reason why she couldn't wait, and assaulting me with fragrance so heavy, I could taste in on the back of my tongue. I felt an insane impulse to wipe my tongue off on the nearest tissue. Bleach. She was dressed, well, much more attractively than I was, and for a moment, felt completely dumpy. I mean, here I was in flip flops, comfy jeans, loose tweedy favourite sweater (specifically selected such that it camouflages all cat hair), no makeup and wet hair in a braid. There she was in calf-high silvery strap up heel sandals, size zero black knee-length a-line skirt with 3/4 inch tulle trim (no cat-hair to be seen by the way - ANYWHERE), tight fitting dressy black t-shirt and perfectly coiffed ringlets dyed a modern shade of red. For a moment (or two) I felt fat, dowdy, unattractive, and well, lets face it, worthless.


Yup, the self-esteem demon raised its ugly head. Yeah, go figure. I mean, I'm almost 30, a role model for teenage girls (in theory anyhow), well-educated, financially stable, not completely unattractive, in a very happy marriage and yet I still play the "compare game." And the problem is, I set myself up for a game that I almost always lose. I don't get it. Why do I do that to myself. But then I thunk and re-thunk my position. First of all, my body is what it is - almost identical to my paternal grandmother's body type. Furthermore, I like food. No, scratch that. I LOVE food when its prepared well, and my husband is no mean chef. Even more, I don't like exercise. I know, runners high, love the burn, blah blah blah. I just find the gym to BORING! And yeah, I know you can read while you bike or whatever, but not the way I like to read. To dive in, to immerse, to enter a new place. I'm half focused on not falling off the damn bike and half focused on not smacking the silly women beside me who'd having an utterly inane, high decibel, cellphone conversation with her girlfriend about how Judge Judy needs a makeover. So my body is a result of the choices I've made and make, and quite frankly, I enjoyed making those choices. Secondly, why the hell am I basing my value on how I look?!? How I look isn't who I am - a part of it, sure, because how we construct our image is a form of communication to other. The part of us we'd like them to see. (And don't start yapping about how you don't care what others think about your appearance because if you care enough to argue with me, you care enough to think about it and answer me. And if you don't care, then why did you take a shower today anyhow if you weren't particularly dirty, hmmm?) Anyhow, I'm not just who I look like, and besides, I AM some of those qualities I communicate to others through my appearance. Practical, comfortable, approachable, friendly, safe...you know...the person the tourist always approaches to take the picture. I may not be shaped like a supermodel, or even a Sears catalogue model for that matter. But I am who I am. And I LIKE who I am. Well, for the most part.



So there it was. Screw that. I have summer vacation to plunge into and I'm not about to start it feeling like crap. Besides, my mom thinks I'm pretty and my husband thinks I'm beautiful, and that's enough for me. To celebrate my school freedom, we saw Ratatouille and ate popcorn (with butter) and soda (non-diet) for dinner. Dragged in a few parts, but about on par with Cars for overall enjoyment. Besides I'm SO excited about visiting London and Paris in a month and the animated scenes of Paris in this movie were inspiring.

OK, knitting calls. Almost done the sleeves. Then I can clean the bathrooms (and trust me, they need doing after 3 weeks of total school immersion) and start Harry Potter. I'm a little reluctant to start because I know I won't stop once I do, and then it will be done. Finished.

Grrr

Can't seem to get this freaking progress bar to work. I know nothing about HTML but I should be able to follow directions from someone else. Nice, numerical directions.

Poop.

On a more positive note, paper's almost done. Just the conclusion to write.

So, a few more hours slog tomorrow, then up to UBC, then off to the motor vehicle branch to renew my license.

EDIT: ooh...found working html code. Nevermind. Though the paper's still not done. Ahem.

Kleenex anyone?

Sometimes I wonder how many other women my age still cry at cheesy made for TV movies. Scratch that...sometimes I even cry (particularly when I'm PMSy) after seeing overly sentimental commercials. Then I second guess myself for condemning my crying. I dunno - my dad always gave me grief about being weepy like my grandmother, but methinks it may be related to men of his generation being uncomfortable with expressing emotions. Then again, crying over a predictable made-for-TV movie? Crying at the end of 1 hour family dramas? TV commercials?

wait a second, what am I doing watching made for TV movies anyhow? My paper still isn't done.

Crap...now there's a reason to cry.

Deny deny deny

That's it. I now have a 24 hour self-imposed deadline in which I must finish cranking out 8 pages of the "Relevance of Morals in Existential Psychotherapy." Though to finish, I suppose I must begin. You know, I was excited about this topic at the beginning and I have lots of ideas in germination, but there seems to be significant mental blockage in firstly planning a coherent and interesting structure with tidy borders and meaningful blocks of colour and texture and secondly actually planting the ideas into a limited 8 pages of space.

I'd much rather give an oral presentation right about now. You know, open my mouth, and hope the ideas knit themselves together into some kind of organized argument. Sort of....verbal fertilizer from my compost heap of ideas.

So far, in my fermenting pile of paper progress, I have accumulated 4 pages of referenced but unorganized key concepts I'd like to include, 6 books and 15-odd papers, and 3 pages of single spaced draft work. However, I've managed to do this in 2 weeks - an over abundance of time as far as I'm concerned. My well meaning prof extended the deadline for this paper from Friday to Monday, and then dropped oh so casually that he wouldn't likely to be in to pick up said papers until Noon on Tuesday. So really, I have no need to begin until Monday at about 9 am. I'm pretty sure given enough strain and duress that I could produce the 2000-ish words in that time frame. However, the longer I delay, the longer I will dwell, and so I've set limits.

Lets rewind a bit and review my progress:

Things I am not allowed to do until my paper is finished Draft #1

Purchase Harry Potter #7
Read Harry Potter #7

Actions completed unrelated to paper:
Read 30 pages of book club book
Knitted 2 more inches of sleeve
Watched 3 movies on the Turner Classic Movies Channel
Look up weather on internet to find out whether yogathon fundraiser is still happening in the rain.

Hm....this list seems to be completely unsuccessful at motivating a enthusiastic beginning. In fact, I seem to be in total denial that I actually have to get anything done. Lets try again:

Things I am not allowed to do until my paper is finished Draft #2

Purchase Harry Potter #7
Read Harry Potter #7
Attend yogathon fundraiser
Watch television at all
Read fiction
Knit (and this is a meaningful limit)

Actions completed unrelated to paper:

Pestered cats. (see photo)
Read 92 pages of book club book (apparently I wasn't taking myself seriously)
Read knitting reference guides about blocking sleeve
Talked with dad and stepmom on phone
Searched for knitting groups online
Made and drank extra coffee
Bugged Aaron
Started blog posting




Hmm...seems to be an inverse relationship between number of limits and paper-completion related activity. Lets try a final draft

Things I am not allowed to do until my paper is finished Draft #3
Purchase Harry Potter #7
Read Harry Potter #7
Attend yogathon fundraiser
Watch television at all
Read fiction (SERIOUSLY THIS TIME)
Read anything on the internet unrelated to paper
Knit (and this is a meaningful limit) or do anything knitting related
Notice cats unless they are dying or breaking something
Notice spouse unless he is bringing me presents (come on, I have to have some kind of out)
Leave office unless I have to pee
Drink anything other than tap water unless husband has brought it as a present (see above)
Answer the phone. scratch that - too open. USE the phone.

Sigh....

I really need to get this thing done.

To sleep, perchance to read

Gah - I have to leave for school in an hour and a half, I have a midterm/quiz that I haven't studied for and thought I tried to study this morning, I took a nap instead. I should be nourishing the overgrown jungle that is my mind, yet I chose to feed my abandoned ruin of a body (and cracked-earth soul too). There's something emotionally satisfying about napping with a cuddly cat.

OK, out of the house, away to the local coffee shop I go, attempting for a final time to absorb half a textbook in 90 minutes. Cue flight of the bumble bee.

Uncommon sense

"I'm staying out of this one." "I'm not getting involved." "I'm going neutral here."

Is it possible to ever be truly neutral? By not taking a position in a dilemma, I would argue that you are not being neutral because you've made a choice to not be involved. By not engaging in a relevant problem, you express a moral opinion about your value of staying ambivalent. Humans are by nature moral agents and our actions and choices (and yes, not making a choice still involves a choice - don't get me started on that one) enact those morals, regardless of whether we want to or not.

For example, lets say a friend asks your opinion on whether or not she should turn in a sum of cash that she encountered while walking in a busy public area. She's had varying opinions and now asks for yours. If you reply "Just do what you think is right," or "Do what is in your heart," because you don't want to influence your friend, I say that you are doing her a disservice. If your friend is in a true moral dilemma and is struggling with a choice which is causing her real discomfort, then as a friend, is it right to offer her nothing? I would argue that instead, you could begin by stating "Though no one but you can ultimately decide your actions, and I do not wish to be responsible for your actions, but this is what I think..." then you have a) been honest and genuine about your fear of responsibility for the consequences that might stem from this choice and yet you have b) still offered your friend support by expressing an opinion. Is it possible that by hearing one side, then your friend will have an opportunity to form her view by freely agreeing or disagreeing with your viewpoint?

"Use your common sense" I think is perhaps the worst counter of all. There is no such thing as common sense - our view of reality is subjective and different, filled with cultural connotations. What may be common to you is not common for everyone. What is morally right for you may not be right for someone else. By not offering a viewpoint, but telling somoeone to "do what makes sense" you ironically impose a view that assumes an arrogant stance that your reality should be a common one. Perhaps we need to start thinking with uncommon sense, rather than common sense.

Procrastination

So here I sit, a copy of Ashman & Winstanley's article entitled "Business ethics and existentialism" before me. And what do I do? Actually read it and use the ideas contained within to work on my paper (due by the way, in less than a week)? No, oh no. Rather, I begin yet another blog in which I will likely write for a while and then delete. Ironic, no, that my focus these days has been on the nature of morality within existentialism?

According to Sartre, we all have the freedom to chose, yet within that choice comes the responsibility to authentically act and live and be, and take the responsibility for those actions. It is right that I subject any who might stumble across this blog with a confusing skein of mental perturbations? Perhaps, like several other disorders, fellow procrastinators may come across this blog which will act as a trigger and initiate their own procrastinating behaviour tendencies? As we make a choice, according to existential thought, we don't merely make it for ourselves, but we make it for all. Because by nature, we are interconnected beings and we yearn for a sense of relation to others to overcome the angst of the inevitability of death. So perhaps this is just an enactment for that existential longing for connectedness.

Perhaps this is a bunch of crap.

So here's been by latest forays into procrastination. Actually, let me digress. I've been engulphed for the last 2.5 weeks in a sea of counselling theories. I, for a variety of reasons, am taking courses over my summer holidays and needed to take a survey course on various theories of counselling and psychotherapy. Its an intense process: 3 hours per day of class, 6 hours per day of reading and homework. My life has been little but read, highlight, bus, listen, write, read, bus, read, write, highlight for the last 3 weeks. I've put myself under considerable pressure to succeed - I may want to use this course as a prerequisite for a masters degree, so I'd like to do well. However, my eczema's resurfaced and last night, I woke up at 3 am convinced that mosquitoes were sucking out every drop of blood I had to spare. Turns out they were hives, because after an hour of sleeplessness, they disappeared. No bites - hives only. Sigh... So in dealing with this inordinate amount of self-imposed work, I've spend some time lately working on procrastination. What have I been doing.... lets see.

Well, there's of course the knitting:

I'm currently working on a sleeve for the "one Dollar Cardigan" in IK Spring 2007. Lovely undyed alpaca.

There's coffee. I always have time to grind fresh beans, fill the press, and consume copious amounts of caffeine.

There's facebook - the eternal time suck.



There's free concerts given by the VSO at Deer Lake Park in Burnaby. Much more fun than deconstructing feminist psychotherapy. See?
(I think this is during William's Star Wars Suite)


Though why people would fight through a crowd of thousands for a patch of grass and a limited view corridor only to TALK through the whole concert on a cell phone, and subject everyone else to their conversation in the process is beyond the scope of my understanding.

Procrastination seems to be my vice and my savior. In once sense, it prevents me from accomplishing things I really should do. In another, it keeps me whole and sane. So here I sit, poised in the precipice of tumbling into a muppet-show inspired Animal-like meltdown, blogging.