Okay ladies now let’s get in formation.
Cuz we slay.
Another year single, another year ready for a pringle. Am I right?
Look, there are only so many ways that I can try to make you feel better about being single with me. Over the years I have written about what not to do to your single friends, I’ve given you the option of dating fictional men instead of real men, I’ve sent you a Valentine with David Tennant, I’ve made you collages, I’ve made romantic book lists.
I’m one hell of a Valentine if you ask me. Because for the people I care about I also bake things and drink wine with them and have a Galentine’s day if it’s on a weekend.
Damn. I’m so romantic and I didn’t even notice.
This year though, I thought I would try something different.
JUST KIDDING THAT’S THE WORST. *laugh crying emoji*
Here’s what I would like to say to you this year:
Treat yo self.
That’s right. I’ve decided (since I’ve turned 30 and ain’t nobody putting a ring on this finger any time soon.) that I will date myself, so to speak. In that I now buy myself relatively expensive presents for my big events.
Because I’m going to die alone in a pile of dogs. #livingthedream
This year I have my eye on a sweet purse that has bananas on it. Because I’m an adult.
You know you’re awesome, you have to by now because I’ve been convincing you for years. You hustle like a champ and all the good things will come your way. And if they don’t, then they weren’t meant for you.
Love isn’t something that is to be forced, it will show up when it is meant to happen and the only thing to do in the meantime is live your life the way you want to because someday you’ll be knee deep in a relationship and these days are the ones you’ll look back on and think “Yeah. I set myself up to be who I want to be and that’s what got me here.”
Or you’ll think “Man. I miss when I could sit around with no pants on and I only had to forage for food for one person.” If you’re lucky, your future significant other will also like not wearing pants while watching TV and will be the kind of person who buys surprise pizzas instead of flowers.
Because flowers are the goddamn dumbest thing to bring a person. Stop bringing things home that can die, bring home things we can eat. (I know you feel me ladies!)
Romantic entanglements aren’t the only things that matter in life. You do you girl!
Man, sometimes I get really serious.
Probably because I hate when I chirp myself for being single so I get mad when I think others are doing it to themselves! Good thing I have some friends who are good with throwing encouragement at me like it’s a confetti parade and give me a hard slap of reality when I need it.
Happy Valentines Day you sons of bitches.
Use the search button to find other such inspirational posts from years of yore. It’s worth it. But I’m biased because I wrote them.
Hello fellow humans:
As you may have noticed (if you follow my Instagram stories or have seen me try to sit in a chair lately without making a sound) I have started the process of working out again.
Ugh. I’d be super annoyed, but I do this to myself. I genuinely forget to look after my own body because I spend my entire day worrying about someone else’s and then when I go home I’m too tired to do much of anything besides watch something on Netflix while I sew things for other people.
My body is one of the most neglected things in my life. Besides I guess my love life. But that’s a whole other story.
Anyway, once again, in an attempt to hold myself accountable I will be crying to you every Wednesday now in my newest series “Work it Out Wednesdays” where I will update my progress and talk about my new boyfriends.
Yes, that’s plural. And a joke.
My new boyfriends are my “trainer” John and Sam Heughan. You read that second name right. The guy who plays Jamie Fraser on ‘Outlander’. They have a program called ‘My Peak Challenge’ and they set you up for the whole year of meal planning and working out, including videos where you get to see Sam teasing John while they work out. It’s magical.
Especially since they are both Scottish, so it’s nice to listen to as well.
My progress report this week is: I’m sore, but it’s not too bad. And I actually look forward to working out every evening now because it’s a plan, and it’s for me. One of the only things I do that’s 100% for me. Which is nice. I’ve been holding onto my New Years Resolutions. I’ve faltered twice in one thing (which is the Tim Hortons, but I didn’t buy it, someone else did for me and I needed to see my friend and that’s literally the only place open passed 10 pm around here. And the kid didn’t eat his donut, and I was super hungry…) and a handful of times in the other (the piano, I can’t seem to find the right time to practice, so I’m moving the piano to the basement today in hopes of getting over my fear of playing with other people in the house.) and besides that I’ve stayed off the scale, which has been lovely. I’m not beating myself up every day three times a day.
I’ve also managed to not go on a diet, which has also felt great! I’m eating better and there’s not so much pressure to be perfect at something.
Anyway, I have to get to work, but I hope you are all having a great week and keeping hold of your resolutions!
(Also, my ‘Be kinder’ one needs some work. But hey, it’s a work in progress and that’s okay.)
Constant vigilance, keep moving forward!
I was just looking at Pinterest this morning and this came up. I remember feeling that same “potent rage” when I read this and was so happy that Harry did this.
Nobody steps to McGonagall.
Today marks the first anniversary of Doomsday’s death. An anniversary that I actually never thought would come. I figured she would live until I died and then we would enter the ether together. Like a wizard and their Patronus.
Instead she was handed to me by a heartbroken vet into my openly weeping embrace. I cry just thinking about that feeling. Even though ten minutes later the crying vet came back and was like “How are we doing in here?” and then we cracked a sad joke about never knowing when it’s time to hand back “the body” while we both bawled our faces off. I remember saying “I think 10 minutes is good, otherwise it’s starting to get weird that I’m just sitting here with a dead animal.”
Even though I was thinking it wasn’t THAT weird because we had spent years of ours lives together. What was a few moments of her death to say goodbye forever?
Several things have happened this year that were harder without her, but more odd.
It’s strange to lose a pet. She wasn’t a person, a living breathing human that I could hold conversations with, she never gave me advice, or teased me for being silly, or even laughed with me. But she held such a huge part of my heart and soul that it felt weird to not have her around anymore.
Things you would never think about were really hard without her.
Christmas, mainly. I’m usually the first person up on Christmas just because now I’m the first of three early risers awake in my house on a regular basis and I’m not one for sleeping in unless I’m sick or had a hard week. So when I wake up Christmas morning she was the first creature I would celebrate it with. I would take pictures and let her open her new present of a toy. (She was more concerned about the wrapping paper because she loved to chew, so I made sure to always wrap stuff.)
Filling the corner she lived in was hard. I thought (when she was alive) that decorating the room would be a good thing to move forward, something positive, I would have room for other things and a new space to organize and decorate. I put my writing desk there, it felt weird to sit there and still be able to see the marks that were left on the floor from her cage. I moved a bookshelf there, it hurt to put something there that I’m always looking at.
It felt rude to replace her. That was HER space.
Finally I decided that I would put a chair where I could read and sew. A productive corner where her little ghost could come and chew my patterns and perch on the top of the chair. (Something she liked to do when she was alive.) It still felt weird, but it was a positive weird.
The worst was moving her cage out. I had to empty that out, throw away her litter and anything that wouldn’t be helpful to a future pets life. I moved her cage into the garage so I wouldn’t have to look at it empty. For that first week I would go out into the garage and click her water bottle because I couldn’t sleep without that noise. Or I would try to imagine it as I fell asleep. Sometimes I would even think I really heard it. And then I would remember, and the wound was open once again.
Coming home at the end of the day was bizarre. I always kept my light on, especially in the winter months, so that she would have the light in the room and not always be in the dark. So when I would walk up to the house it was a harsh reminder because my brain would immediately think “Who the hell turned that off? She needs that on.” and I would get so mad. Then my heart would plummet with the realization that the light doesn’t need to be on because she’s no longer there.
My nightly schedule is thrown off. I used to do “lights out” between 8 and 9, which was essentially turning off my laptop and whatever I was watching so that I could read and she could come out and hop around the room for an hour and a half before bed. Now I have no schedule. I don’t even sleep on time anymore. I used to get 8 hours of sleep and now I’m lucky if it’s 6.
My insomniac friends/parent friends want to punch me when I say that.
Her birthday was hard too. I used to go out and get her a new toy in February and she would immediately destroy it. I just loved our little celebrations together of life and love because she was the only creature who was fully mine and I was fully hers and while that’s a little Stockholm syndrome-y, it was a beautiful and ridiculous love.
One of the hardest things is that now I have no idea what to do for my Christmas card this year. Which sounds stupid, but that was one of our traditions in the fall. I would figure out something silly or cute and get ready early for Christmas. I even knit her a little scarf one year for our picture. And last years was so sad to me that I made my piano teacher take it down from his cork board after a few months of staring at my “smiling” face. I knew that I had actually been bawling my face off because I knew this was the last of our pictures like that. I didn’t want to look at my sad face or her tired face anymore. (Thankfully, he complied, and now he has a sarcastically made birthday card from me in its place. Which I appreciate more and helps me not completely lose focus. Or cry.)
I miss her all the time.
Today I feel haunted by her ghost. And not just the ghost of her memory, like legitimately her ghost. Strange things have been happening all day that don’t normally go on.
I know that time heals all wounds, and while this wound doesn’t feel as raw and broken and heart wrenching as it was on this day a year ago, I still hurt from missing her.
And all because I fell in love with a bunny in 2009.