It starts with a loud, gasping yelp. My heart drops in my chest. I know what this means.
I run into our bedroom and in a panic, flip the light switch. The light pours over a scene in front of me that I will never get used to. I am at your side. My heart is pounding. I look at your face; every muscle is tightened to reveal an expression that I interpret as pain. You're not breathing.
Your entire body stiffens; every muscle. Your eyelids flicker as saliva and blood begin to trickle from your lips. I struggle to turn you on your side. Your face is red. Your wrists are curled in; your hands are fists. You shake slightly, your body vibrating with the strain of your muscles being so tense. You're still not breathing.
You begin to convulse. Your body rocks as you repeatedly tighten and stiffen every muscle. With each jerk, your throat rattles as you begin to choke in slight amounts of air. Your arms flail as your brain struggles to regain control; your legs kick. Please take a breath.
The spasms begin to slow. Your eyes are rolled back. Your cheek is lightly glazed with spittle and blood, which I try to mop away with a tissue. Veins bulge from your neck. Your body contracts and releases one final time before you lay silent. You're not breathing.
I'm scared. You look like you're dead. Your body slowly relaxes and the whites of your eyes show. I watch as your lips turn blue; your fingertips blend to match. Your head tilts backward; your mouth open. I become aware that you are coated in sweat; your hair clots to your brow in dewy strands. Every second passed only adds to the panic. I feel helpless as I massage your motionless chest, silently begging you to breathe.
Suddenly, your torso heaves. You gasp in your first full breath of air after nearly two minutes. I feel instant relief. I witness first your lips, then your fingers fading from blue back to a healthy pink. My heart aches for you as I kiss your forehead and leave you to sleep.
I am the watcher.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
First Painting Complete
I finished the first painting for the baby's room, and it feels good to be done one, and to be happy with it. I really like the way that it turned out and think it's super cute. I haven't hung it in the room just yet because I want to wait until I have the other one finished, which I'm working on now. I wanted to share the one I have completed already, so let me know what you think!
It's done entirely in FolkArt acrylic paints, so completely non-toxic and safe for a baby's room. It measures 16 x 20 inches and is on stretched canvas.
I love the bright colours and the cuteness of the animals and it will look just perfect in Squishy's room. I think the baby likes it too, as he/she has been moving around like crazy today. The movements have been really big ones too, not little kicks like they usually are, but big rolling movements. I can actually see my entire belly shift during a lot of them.
I'm off to work more on the next painting!
It's done entirely in FolkArt acrylic paints, so completely non-toxic and safe for a baby's room. It measures 16 x 20 inches and is on stretched canvas.
I love the bright colours and the cuteness of the animals and it will look just perfect in Squishy's room. I think the baby likes it too, as he/she has been moving around like crazy today. The movements have been really big ones too, not little kicks like they usually are, but big rolling movements. I can actually see my entire belly shift during a lot of them.
I'm off to work more on the next painting!
Monday, June 27, 2011
The Finishing Touches
Squishy's room is coming along very nicely. Today we got the mattress and have the bedding all in the crib and it looks fantastic!
Cute, right? I love it, and I can already imagine our tiny baby, when he/she arrives, sleeping soundly. The final thing we need for the room is just a dresser, and then we're done and fully ready.
At the moment, I'm working on some of the art for the room. I'll have two canvases hanging up, which are 16x20 inches. I'm going to paint some cute elephants and other animals on them to match the other elephants in the room.
I love art, and just completely immersing myself in a project like these canvases, so if I fail to update for a day or two, that's why, and rest assured I'll be back with some art to show for it once done.
(click to embiggen)
Cute, right? I love it, and I can already imagine our tiny baby, when he/she arrives, sleeping soundly. The final thing we need for the room is just a dresser, and then we're done and fully ready.
At the moment, I'm working on some of the art for the room. I'll have two canvases hanging up, which are 16x20 inches. I'm going to paint some cute elephants and other animals on them to match the other elephants in the room.
I love art, and just completely immersing myself in a project like these canvases, so if I fail to update for a day or two, that's why, and rest assured I'll be back with some art to show for it once done.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Home Stretch
As of this point in time, pregnancy has been an exciting roller coaster of an experience. I have the highs that come with the bond building with the baby inside me, followed by the lows of the back pain and heartburn. I have been lucky enough to experience mostly highs. I went to the Obstetrician for the first time earlier this week (was going to my family doctor prior to this, but he can only handle the pregnancy up until a certain point) and she actually said to me "You're so low risk it's not even funny" after asking me a variety of questions regarding symptoms. She says I'm super healthy and she doesn't even need to see me for another few weeks, probably when I'm around 36-37 weeks along. Right now I'm at 34.
Pregnancy seems so long and so short at the same time. The juxtaposition between the long and the short of it all really makes for a whirlwind of an experience. Although I'm excited to finally go through the birthing process and have my baby in my arms, I will miss a lot about pregnancy. I'll miss my belly, the feeling of the baby moving around inside me, the wonderment, the science behind it all, the mystery of gender, and numerous other aspects of being pregnant. I certainly won't miss the heartburn or the body pain that comes and goes, with varying severity.
I have been fortunate enough to have an extremely healthy pregnancy. I didn't get morning sickness at all, the pain I have felt is very manageable, my numbers and measurements have all been spot on from the beginning, my general health has been good, and Squishy is floating around in there s healthy too. I am incredibly fortunate to have a good man by my side throughout all of this, and he has been a huge help and support in every sense.
Now that time is closing in on the due date, it's hard not to look forward and almost freak out a little bit. Sure, the bedroom is coming together nicely, we have most of what we need other than a few small items, and I feel we're both emotionally in the right place to take on parenting. I feel like I'm freaking out, not because I feel unprepared but because I'm just so excited and scared at the same time. Will I know what to do? What if Squishy has some sort of unforeseen health problem? What if something goes wrong during labor? Will I be a good mother? Will breastfeeding go well? What about finances?
I'm trying to stay positive, and for the most part, I'd say that I'm very positive. There is no particular reason for me to be questioning anything, and I only want what is best for our child. I want everything to go well.
Looking back on pregnancy, it's been a wild ride. Since that evening nearing the end of November when I peed on a stick and its result changed our lives forever, so much has happened. Watching the way my body has changed has been a very interesting experience, indeed. Realizing how much my thought process has changed, and how I'm starting to think more like a "mom" has been wonderful. Sharing this experience with a wonderful man and soon-to-be amazing father has been better than I ever thought possible.
With just a little over a month left to go, I am optimistic. I have heard that the last month is the worst of all, so I hope I can remain in good spirits until the end.
Pregnancy seems so long and so short at the same time. The juxtaposition between the long and the short of it all really makes for a whirlwind of an experience. Although I'm excited to finally go through the birthing process and have my baby in my arms, I will miss a lot about pregnancy. I'll miss my belly, the feeling of the baby moving around inside me, the wonderment, the science behind it all, the mystery of gender, and numerous other aspects of being pregnant. I certainly won't miss the heartburn or the body pain that comes and goes, with varying severity.
I have been fortunate enough to have an extremely healthy pregnancy. I didn't get morning sickness at all, the pain I have felt is very manageable, my numbers and measurements have all been spot on from the beginning, my general health has been good, and Squishy is floating around in there s healthy too. I am incredibly fortunate to have a good man by my side throughout all of this, and he has been a huge help and support in every sense.
Now that time is closing in on the due date, it's hard not to look forward and almost freak out a little bit. Sure, the bedroom is coming together nicely, we have most of what we need other than a few small items, and I feel we're both emotionally in the right place to take on parenting. I feel like I'm freaking out, not because I feel unprepared but because I'm just so excited and scared at the same time. Will I know what to do? What if Squishy has some sort of unforeseen health problem? What if something goes wrong during labor? Will I be a good mother? Will breastfeeding go well? What about finances?
I'm trying to stay positive, and for the most part, I'd say that I'm very positive. There is no particular reason for me to be questioning anything, and I only want what is best for our child. I want everything to go well.
Looking back on pregnancy, it's been a wild ride. Since that evening nearing the end of November when I peed on a stick and its result changed our lives forever, so much has happened. Watching the way my body has changed has been a very interesting experience, indeed. Realizing how much my thought process has changed, and how I'm starting to think more like a "mom" has been wonderful. Sharing this experience with a wonderful man and soon-to-be amazing father has been better than I ever thought possible.
With just a little over a month left to go, I am optimistic. I have heard that the last month is the worst of all, so I hope I can remain in good spirits until the end.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Dear Diabetes
That's right, Type 1, I'm talking to you. You and your little brother, Type 2 think you're so cool because you're the biggest metabolic disease out there. Well, you know what? I've had enough of your crap. You come in here, vandalize Dave's pancreas and basically steal all his insulin so he has to inject it. Then you sit back and laugh like some crazed anarchist for ten years, while blood-glucose levels are out of control and making a mess of the place.
Why do you need to be such a jerk? Dave is a sweet guy who never asked to be bullied and pushed around by you or your cronies (I'm looking at you, hypoglycemia), so why don't you just back off?
You might have had fun pushing him around so far, but the party stops now. He's got me on his team now, and I am more stubborn and motivated than you can imagine. Not only that, but I like to learn, and especially about medical problems like you. Knowledge is power.
I've been doing my research on you, Diabetes. I've been following you around and seeing what you're all about. Without you noticing, I've been messing with you and seeing how you'd react to things. I've been like a ninja in the night. You wanna know what I've learned? You're not as powerful as you make yourself out to be. You're no longer this big mysterious disease to us anymore.
You can be beaten. I know your weaknesses and we are going to exploit them until you beg for mercy. We haven't been seeing your buddy, hypoglycemia around so much anymore. We stopped sending him regular invitations, and you know what? Without him around so much, Dave can see more clearly now what needs to be done to get you under control.
You might as well give up now. We're coming for you, and we're prepared for war.
-Wendy the Warrior
Why do you need to be such a jerk? Dave is a sweet guy who never asked to be bullied and pushed around by you or your cronies (I'm looking at you, hypoglycemia), so why don't you just back off?
You might have had fun pushing him around so far, but the party stops now. He's got me on his team now, and I am more stubborn and motivated than you can imagine. Not only that, but I like to learn, and especially about medical problems like you. Knowledge is power.
I've been doing my research on you, Diabetes. I've been following you around and seeing what you're all about. Without you noticing, I've been messing with you and seeing how you'd react to things. I've been like a ninja in the night. You wanna know what I've learned? You're not as powerful as you make yourself out to be. You're no longer this big mysterious disease to us anymore.
You can be beaten. I know your weaknesses and we are going to exploit them until you beg for mercy. We haven't been seeing your buddy, hypoglycemia around so much anymore. We stopped sending him regular invitations, and you know what? Without him around so much, Dave can see more clearly now what needs to be done to get you under control.
You might as well give up now. We're coming for you, and we're prepared for war.
-Wendy the Warrior
Nothing Like a Good Book
I've been telling myself for a while that I should read more often. Years ago that was all I would do. That is, when I wasn't sketching or drawing or painting up a storm. Reading and writing was always something I enjoyed doing throughout high school, then on and off afterward.
Don't get me wrong, I read a lot these days still, but it's mostly comprised of non-fiction. I've read a lot of books by the likes of Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, several true crime stories and even some great biographies on WWII, but I haven't really picked up fiction in a few years. I should. It's good for the imagination.
Back when I read a lot of fiction, my genre of choice was always horror. So, naturally, I gravitated toward Stephen King (my favorite) and Clive Barker, among others. I still gravitate toward these authors, King in particular, because I think that's just what's familiar to me. I want to branch out, however, and read something that I wouldn't normally.
I feel bad that I haven't read a lot of the "classics". I've read half a Jane Austen novel, never even touched Hemingway, and I've read some Mark Twain and Edgar Allen Poe, but I feel as though I should read more.
I almost want to stop watching TV entirely (after Big Brother, of course) just so I will have more time to read and create. It's not even like we watch a ton of TV every day, and when we do it's generally something at least educational (a lot of documentaries), but we still do waste time watching at least one sitcom, King of Queens, that isn't educational or useful at all.
Tonight, Dave and I both started reading a book. I started reading a book by Stephen King called Lisey's Story. I read it before, years ago, and loved it. Dave started reading Stephen King's biography, called On Writing. I recommended it to him, as it helped me with my own writing and he's been struggling to get motivated lately for a blog that he's trying to get going (I can't wait!). So far, he really likes it!
There is no feeling quite like curling up on the couch with a good book, a cup of coffee, and the love of your life while listening to the sounds of a thunderstorm (on the iPod, the raining seems to have ceased here) with a dog curled in your lap. No feeling like it in the world.
Don't get me wrong, I read a lot these days still, but it's mostly comprised of non-fiction. I've read a lot of books by the likes of Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, several true crime stories and even some great biographies on WWII, but I haven't really picked up fiction in a few years. I should. It's good for the imagination.
Back when I read a lot of fiction, my genre of choice was always horror. So, naturally, I gravitated toward Stephen King (my favorite) and Clive Barker, among others. I still gravitate toward these authors, King in particular, because I think that's just what's familiar to me. I want to branch out, however, and read something that I wouldn't normally.
I feel bad that I haven't read a lot of the "classics". I've read half a Jane Austen novel, never even touched Hemingway, and I've read some Mark Twain and Edgar Allen Poe, but I feel as though I should read more.
I almost want to stop watching TV entirely (after Big Brother, of course) just so I will have more time to read and create. It's not even like we watch a ton of TV every day, and when we do it's generally something at least educational (a lot of documentaries), but we still do waste time watching at least one sitcom, King of Queens, that isn't educational or useful at all.
Tonight, Dave and I both started reading a book. I started reading a book by Stephen King called Lisey's Story. I read it before, years ago, and loved it. Dave started reading Stephen King's biography, called On Writing. I recommended it to him, as it helped me with my own writing and he's been struggling to get motivated lately for a blog that he's trying to get going (I can't wait!). So far, he really likes it!
There is no feeling quite like curling up on the couch with a good book, a cup of coffee, and the love of your life while listening to the sounds of a thunderstorm (on the iPod, the raining seems to have ceased here) with a dog curled in your lap. No feeling like it in the world.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
My Top 7 Facebook Irritants
Whether you love it or hate it, Facebook plays a large role in today's society. Some have shunned it from day one, while others have an on again-off again relationship with it. Others (myself included) started off shunning it, then caved and have been using it ever since.
I used to think that social networking was ridiculous and that I would never take part in it. That was years ago, of course. Now, I certainly see the value in it. I have never know so much about people I know. It's a great way to find out about someone you haven't yet met. But there are some things that really, really bother me about it. It doesn't have to do with Facebook itself, but some of its users.
Irritant #1 - The Video Poster
This person spends their entire day, I'm sure, searching out and posting videos from YouTube without ever saying anything themselves. What I hate the most about this type of user is that they usually don't even post videos that I would ever watch. Mariah Carey music videos all day, every day? No, thank you.
Irritant #2 - The Ever-Whiner
Nobody likes someone who whines all the time. We get it, you want validation and you want the world to know how hard your life is. Get over it and start posting something a little more positive. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start making changes in your life if it's truly that bad. If I offer you advice that will fix whatever problem you are having, the proper response is not to make excuses and whine even more. If you don't want help, say so and I won't waste my time. (Note: I'm not talking about those who have legitimate problems or concerns, or those who occasionally air their dirty laundry on Facebook. I'm directing this toward those who are always negative, all the time, about things that generally don't matter/aren't life altering.)
Irritant #3 - The Name Changer
Stop changing your name. It's supposed to be your first and last name. If you want to have some bizarre phrase as your name, head back to Myspace. Today you're "Orange Buttcrack" and tomorrow you're "Iamso Coolness". At least keep it consistent so that I can keep tabs on who I'm trying to unfriend.
Irritant #4 - The Pregnancy Fetish Freaks
You are free to have a fetish for whatever you want, but that doesn't give you the right to send me messages on Facebook asking why I denied your friend request. It might have something to do with the fact we have no mutual friends, no common interests, and the only thing that shows in your "Likes" is "16 and Pregnant". Your photo albums are filled with photos of pregnant women that you probably use to jerk off. I don't want my photos among them. Go away.
Irritant #5 - The Wall Spammer
If, the second after I accept your friend request, you take those precious moments to post on my wall about "some great band I should hear" or "some great product I should buy" then I will unfriend you. If you want to advertise something, do so in a legitimate way, by buying ad space on Facebook. Otherwise, use your own wall to advertise your wares.
Irritant #6 - The Quiz Taker
Congratulations, you are [Specific Character] from [Specific Movie or Show]. Your personality colour is magenta and I'm really excited for you. It's great, really, just keep it on your own wall. Don't send me invitations to do these same arbitrary, time wasting quizzes.
Irritant #7 - The Comment Hater
Know what's awesome about Facebook? It allows you to interact with your friends! So why, if you don't want any comments/questions or feedback, would you post something as a status update? Don't post something that I will inevitably respond to if I see it, and then delete my comment saying that you didn't want any feedback or questions on your post. If it's private, then don't post it. This applies tenfold to ridiculous religious comments that I disagree with, and will tell you I disagree with.
Well, that was certainly a load off my shoulders, and fun to write! What are your biggest pet peeves on Facebook? Feel free to share in the comments.
I used to think that social networking was ridiculous and that I would never take part in it. That was years ago, of course. Now, I certainly see the value in it. I have never know so much about people I know. It's a great way to find out about someone you haven't yet met. But there are some things that really, really bother me about it. It doesn't have to do with Facebook itself, but some of its users.
Irritant #1 - The Video Poster
This person spends their entire day, I'm sure, searching out and posting videos from YouTube without ever saying anything themselves. What I hate the most about this type of user is that they usually don't even post videos that I would ever watch. Mariah Carey music videos all day, every day? No, thank you.
Irritant #2 - The Ever-Whiner
Nobody likes someone who whines all the time. We get it, you want validation and you want the world to know how hard your life is. Get over it and start posting something a little more positive. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start making changes in your life if it's truly that bad. If I offer you advice that will fix whatever problem you are having, the proper response is not to make excuses and whine even more. If you don't want help, say so and I won't waste my time. (Note: I'm not talking about those who have legitimate problems or concerns, or those who occasionally air their dirty laundry on Facebook. I'm directing this toward those who are always negative, all the time, about things that generally don't matter/aren't life altering.)
Irritant #3 - The Name Changer
Stop changing your name. It's supposed to be your first and last name. If you want to have some bizarre phrase as your name, head back to Myspace. Today you're "Orange Buttcrack" and tomorrow you're "Iamso Coolness". At least keep it consistent so that I can keep tabs on who I'm trying to unfriend.
Irritant #4 - The Pregnancy Fetish Freaks
You are free to have a fetish for whatever you want, but that doesn't give you the right to send me messages on Facebook asking why I denied your friend request. It might have something to do with the fact we have no mutual friends, no common interests, and the only thing that shows in your "Likes" is "16 and Pregnant". Your photo albums are filled with photos of pregnant women that you probably use to jerk off. I don't want my photos among them. Go away.
Irritant #5 - The Wall Spammer
If, the second after I accept your friend request, you take those precious moments to post on my wall about "some great band I should hear" or "some great product I should buy" then I will unfriend you. If you want to advertise something, do so in a legitimate way, by buying ad space on Facebook. Otherwise, use your own wall to advertise your wares.
Irritant #6 - The Quiz Taker
Congratulations, you are [Specific Character] from [Specific Movie or Show]. Your personality colour is magenta and I'm really excited for you. It's great, really, just keep it on your own wall. Don't send me invitations to do these same arbitrary, time wasting quizzes.
Irritant #7 - The Comment Hater
Know what's awesome about Facebook? It allows you to interact with your friends! So why, if you don't want any comments/questions or feedback, would you post something as a status update? Don't post something that I will inevitably respond to if I see it, and then delete my comment saying that you didn't want any feedback or questions on your post. If it's private, then don't post it. This applies tenfold to ridiculous religious comments that I disagree with, and will tell you I disagree with.
Well, that was certainly a load off my shoulders, and fun to write! What are your biggest pet peeves on Facebook? Feel free to share in the comments.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Stretch Marks
I find that most women I talk to are extremely self conscious when it comes to stretch marks in pregnancy. Perhaps this is why when I started to notice them showing up on my own belly, my first instinct was to react negatively. After, say, a day of grieving the loss of my once mark-less belly skin, I thought about it in a different way and now I fully accept, and am even proud of my stretch marks.
It's incredible what the female body goes through during pregnancy. All of these changes I've noticed with my own body simply amaze me every day. The way my body has slowly changed shape since becoming pregnant, and the way it's changed the way it functions is something that helps me look at nature and the human body in a different way.
It's hard to describe my feelings, but I'm still getting over the fact that I have a human being growing inside one of my internal organs. My body has three pounds more blood right now than it used to, to compensate for having to circulate blood through more tissue, and another living thing. My lungs are twenty to thirty percent more efficient at drawing oxygen out of the air and circulating it in the body and do you know why? Because they have less room to expand in my torso, since my uterus now takes up so much space. Most of my internal organs right now are squished into the area behind my ribs.
With all of the incredible (and scientifically very interesting!) things happening in my body, it's kind of nice to have some form of souvenir on my body. This is where the stretch marks come in, at least for me. They act as proof that something amazing went on inside my body. They tell a story of a woman becoming a mother. They show that I've moved up in life to a new level. Like a soldier advancing in rank, I've earned my stripes too.
It's incredible what the female body goes through during pregnancy. All of these changes I've noticed with my own body simply amaze me every day. The way my body has slowly changed shape since becoming pregnant, and the way it's changed the way it functions is something that helps me look at nature and the human body in a different way.
It's hard to describe my feelings, but I'm still getting over the fact that I have a human being growing inside one of my internal organs. My body has three pounds more blood right now than it used to, to compensate for having to circulate blood through more tissue, and another living thing. My lungs are twenty to thirty percent more efficient at drawing oxygen out of the air and circulating it in the body and do you know why? Because they have less room to expand in my torso, since my uterus now takes up so much space. Most of my internal organs right now are squished into the area behind my ribs.
With all of the incredible (and scientifically very interesting!) things happening in my body, it's kind of nice to have some form of souvenir on my body. This is where the stretch marks come in, at least for me. They act as proof that something amazing went on inside my body. They tell a story of a woman becoming a mother. They show that I've moved up in life to a new level. Like a soldier advancing in rank, I've earned my stripes too.
 |
| Why be ashamed? |
Sorrow and Scurrying Rats
Originally, I wasn't going to write at all about the recent news of Ryan Dunn's death. Jackass and CKY were my favorite things to watch during my late teens and early twenties, and the guy provided me with a lot of laughs over the years - most recently with Jackass 3D. I avoided writing about it because of the immediate controversy surrounding his death, in that it is suspected he may have been drinking and driving. It's hard to feel sorry for someone who potentially died (and killed a passenger) by drunk driving.
I settled for posting a link to the story on Facebook with an expression that I was sad he was dead. Not long after posting, I had a response berating anybody for calling Dunn "a good guy" and calling him "a drunk drivin' murderer".
I get it. I understand any anger associated with the death of this man, although I feel like it's way to soon to make assumptions about his character. So far, there is no solid proof he was driving under the influence. Is it likely that he was? Absolutely. He was photographed hours before the crash, at a bar, drinking.It won't be known whether he was over the legal limit, however, until toxicology results come back but that usually takes four to six weeks. Update 06/22/2011 - His blood alcohol level was .196, the legal limit is .08.
Regardless of what caused the crash, whether it was speed, alcohol, or a combination of the two, the simple fact remains that two lives were lost. I was going to stay quiet about this story until I started to see how Dunn's friends were reacting. Namely -- his best friend Bam Margera. I saw a video of Bam visiting the crash site, and the pure emotion and sorrow gripping him really helped me put things into perspective.
The truth is, the cause of the crash is unknown. What is known right now, is that it's estimated that Dunn was speeding at approximately 110 - 130 MPH. Speeding is wrong, yes, absolutely, but I don't think that's enough reason to publicly call him out within hours of his death, like Roger Ebert did. The crash was violent and they can't tell if the passengers died from blunt force trauma, or the fire, so they may very well have burned alive. We may never know the direct cause of the crash.
According to everyone who has been interviewed who was close to him, he was a great guy who was always happy. Fellow fans of Jackass and CKY can also attest to that from his near-constant smiling on screen. It's difficult, if not impossible to post this anywhere right now, because it will almost certainly be met with someone spitting hate toward him, assuming that it was alcohol.
I believe a lot of the hate stems from the type of celebrity he is. A lot of people don't take him seriously or have respect for him, so they think it's okay to show absolutely no sensitivity over the fact that the man has died. A man has died. A man who was beloved by all who knew him, who had a lot going for him, and who was a simple joy to watch. Regardless of the cause, two human lives were lost.
What really makes me sick about this whole situation, is that just a day after he was dead, there are people at the crash site trying to cash in on his death. They are disturbing what is still an active crime scene in order to dig pieces of the wrecked car out of the woods to sell on eBay. In the video I linked to earlier, you see them crawling out of the woods like vultures - holding smashed headlights, pieces of car, and broken glass hoping to score a buck at auction.
Have some respect.
I settled for posting a link to the story on Facebook with an expression that I was sad he was dead. Not long after posting, I had a response berating anybody for calling Dunn "a good guy" and calling him "a drunk drivin' murderer".
I get it. I understand any anger associated with the death of this man, although I feel like it's way to soon to make assumptions about his character. So far, there is no solid proof he was driving under the influence. Is it likely that he was? Absolutely. He was photographed hours before the crash, at a bar, drinking.
Regardless of what caused the crash, whether it was speed, alcohol, or a combination of the two, the simple fact remains that two lives were lost. I was going to stay quiet about this story until I started to see how Dunn's friends were reacting. Namely -- his best friend Bam Margera. I saw a video of Bam visiting the crash site, and the pure emotion and sorrow gripping him really helped me put things into perspective.
The truth is, the cause of the crash is unknown. What is known right now, is that it's estimated that Dunn was speeding at approximately 110 - 130 MPH. Speeding is wrong, yes, absolutely, but I don't think that's enough reason to publicly call him out within hours of his death, like Roger Ebert did. The crash was violent and they can't tell if the passengers died from blunt force trauma, or the fire, so they may very well have burned alive. We may never know the direct cause of the crash.
According to everyone who has been interviewed who was close to him, he was a great guy who was always happy. Fellow fans of Jackass and CKY can also attest to that from his near-constant smiling on screen. It's difficult, if not impossible to post this anywhere right now, because it will almost certainly be met with someone spitting hate toward him, assuming that it was alcohol.
I believe a lot of the hate stems from the type of celebrity he is. A lot of people don't take him seriously or have respect for him, so they think it's okay to show absolutely no sensitivity over the fact that the man has died. A man has died. A man who was beloved by all who knew him, who had a lot going for him, and who was a simple joy to watch. Regardless of the cause, two human lives were lost.
What really makes me sick about this whole situation, is that just a day after he was dead, there are people at the crash site trying to cash in on his death. They are disturbing what is still an active crime scene in order to dig pieces of the wrecked car out of the woods to sell on eBay. In the video I linked to earlier, you see them crawling out of the woods like vultures - holding smashed headlights, pieces of car, and broken glass hoping to score a buck at auction.
Have some respect.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Wendy Facts: Podophobia
Podophobia: the irrational fear of feet.
Yes, it's a real thing. I'm always met with surprise and disbelief when I tell people that I have a foot phobia, but it's true... I do.
I can't stand to be around feet. Especially naked feet. They freak me out, and I don't want them near me or touching me. A lot of people think the fear is because of the smell of feet. For me, it isn't. At least not exclusively. There is no one particular aspect of feet that gets me running for the hills. It's rather more of a package deal. It's everything about them. The way they look, toes... and toenails (gag), the way they move and the way they smell, dirty socks, shoes, all of it.
One of the first things most people ask me when they learn about this fear is whether or not I'm okay with my own feet. The answer to this question is that I prefer not to touch or look at even my own feet. Although I'm not as bad as I am with another person's feet -- I can tolerate my own -- I prefer not to deal with them. It makes me uncomfortable if someone else touches my feet, or even if something touches my feet. You aren't likely to catch me ever walking barefoot on flooring of any kind, especially smooth floors. Generally the only times when I'm able to go barefoot are when I'm showering or when I'm sleeping.
Pregnancy hasn't made this any better. Not only do my feet swell up, but sometimes it's just uncomfortable to put my socks on. They're too tight when my feet are swollen, and so sometimes I'm forced to go without socks.
So, how serious is the fear? Honestly, it varies depending on my anxiety levels that day and what happens, but I have been known to have a full-blown anxiety attack following a negative exposure to feet. Speaking of which - never do the following:
Podophobic Person = I'm afraid of feet. I have a foot phobia.
Other Person = LOL! You're weird! *proceeds to try and put feet in phobic person's face*
Just... never do that. It might be funny to you, sure, but it also gives you the label of "Douche" for the remainder of the time we know you. Not only that, it can cause freak outs that are apt to extreme reactions up to and including bursting into tears and hyperventilating. You don't want that on your conscience, do you?
How to Make Someone With Podophobia More Comfortable Around You
Podophobia is just like any other phobia and should be respected. You wouldn't throw a bucket of spiders on someone with arachnophobia, and you wouldn't run after someone with dentophobia with a drill or fluoride, so don't think it's hilarious to wave your nasty feet in the face of someone who is literally afraid of them.
That is all. You may now return to your regularly scheduled web surfing.
Yes, it's a real thing. I'm always met with surprise and disbelief when I tell people that I have a foot phobia, but it's true... I do.
I can't stand to be around feet. Especially naked feet. They freak me out, and I don't want them near me or touching me. A lot of people think the fear is because of the smell of feet. For me, it isn't. At least not exclusively. There is no one particular aspect of feet that gets me running for the hills. It's rather more of a package deal. It's everything about them. The way they look, toes... and toenails (gag), the way they move and the way they smell, dirty socks, shoes, all of it.
One of the first things most people ask me when they learn about this fear is whether or not I'm okay with my own feet. The answer to this question is that I prefer not to touch or look at even my own feet. Although I'm not as bad as I am with another person's feet -- I can tolerate my own -- I prefer not to deal with them. It makes me uncomfortable if someone else touches my feet, or even if something touches my feet. You aren't likely to catch me ever walking barefoot on flooring of any kind, especially smooth floors. Generally the only times when I'm able to go barefoot are when I'm showering or when I'm sleeping.
Pregnancy hasn't made this any better. Not only do my feet swell up, but sometimes it's just uncomfortable to put my socks on. They're too tight when my feet are swollen, and so sometimes I'm forced to go without socks.
So, how serious is the fear? Honestly, it varies depending on my anxiety levels that day and what happens, but I have been known to have a full-blown anxiety attack following a negative exposure to feet. Speaking of which - never do the following:
Podophobic Person = I'm afraid of feet. I have a foot phobia.
Other Person = LOL! You're weird! *proceeds to try and put feet in phobic person's face*
Just... never do that. It might be funny to you, sure, but it also gives you the label of "Douche" for the remainder of the time we know you. Not only that, it can cause freak outs that are apt to extreme reactions up to and including bursting into tears and hyperventilating. You don't want that on your conscience, do you?
How to Make Someone With Podophobia More Comfortable Around You
- Avoid the scenario above. Never use feet as a weapon.
- Make it a habit to cross your legs away from the podophobic person, if you sit beside them.
- Do not remove your socks around a podophobic person.
- Do not touch them with your feet. Even accidentally.
- Never, EVER clip your toenails in the same room as a podophobic person.
- Avoid asking a podophobic person to pass you your shoes. They will likely be haphazardly kicked toward you instead.
Podophobia is just like any other phobia and should be respected. You wouldn't throw a bucket of spiders on someone with arachnophobia, and you wouldn't run after someone with dentophobia with a drill or fluoride, so don't think it's hilarious to wave your nasty feet in the face of someone who is literally afraid of them.
That is all. You may now return to your regularly scheduled web surfing.
I Remember: Camping
As a child, some of my fondest memories were when we packed up and went camping on short notice. This was when I was around 9-13 year sold, or so. Some days, I would finish school on a Friday, and come home to be surprised with going camping. My Mom, my sisters, and family friend Floyd would all pile into a van and just go, listening to Anne Murray cassette tapes for the entire ride and loving it.
As a family with extremely limited means, we never went on vacations to Disneyland like other children our age did. I don't remember ever feeling like we were missing out, because we were together as a family and that was all that mattered. We always went camping to a site that was usually within a two hour drive of the city, but how far away we were from our home didn't matter.
I remember staying up really late in front of a camp fire, roasting marshmallow's and looking up at the stars; always brighter outside the city. These sweet moments of inner reflection and quiet were always quite precious to me and I savored every last second of it.
I remember eating hot dogs for supper, always with that little three pack of ketchup/mustard/relish that you bought specifically for camping. Hot dogs cooked over an open fire are the best tasting hot dogs I've ever had. After a day of running around at the beach or hiking around through the woods, we always had a good appetite and were very grateful for our food.
I remember crowding into a small tent when it started to rain, laughing even though we were wet and uncomfortable and cold. We played cards with flashlights as our only way to see until it stopped raining.
I remember midnight trips to the bathroom, struggling to find our way back to the campsite in the dark. There was always someone waiting back at camp, luring us in with a flashlight like we were planes landing in the night.
I remember daily trips to the beach, where we would either play in the sand, or hunt for shells along the water. We would blow up inflatable dinghy's and set sail to the middle of the lake. Sand would find ways of entering your bathing suit and making for an uncomfortable time. The bright colours of sun umbrellas would dot the beach. Sunburn was a common and laying on your towel eating sunflower seeds was heaven.
I remember the smells of bug spray, sunscreen, Kool-Aid, trees, Wonderbread, Mom's chili and camp fire greeting my nostrils each day. I remember the sounds of wind rustling through the trees, waves lazily hitting the shore, children shrieking with delight, the crackling of a fresh fire, the zipping open and closed of tent zippers, and the dead silence of night that surrounded you.
I remember never having an electric camp site. Our entertainment was each other, and the fun activities we took part in. We kept our food cold not with fridges, but with ice packs pre-frozen at home, and bags upon bags of ice. Dishes were washed with water from a manual pump that was heated over the fire. We didn't have cell phones, internet access, television, video games, or iPods, and we didn't miss them.
I remember falling asleep in a tent, in a sleeping bag on the ground, snuggled in because it was so cold and waking up sweaty in what could only be described as a sauna.
I remember Mom buying us ice cream, which always tastes extra delicious when you're camping. A little restaurant that served the best burgers I've ever tasted sat by the lake and was always a treasured treat.
I remember the drive home always seemed longer, and we were always exhausted after a few days of enjoying the beauty of nature, the closeness of family, the challenge of "roughing it", the conversation, and the peace and quiet that camping offered.
Many of my friends families at the time would go on vacation to other countries, stay in expensive hotels, visit incredible amusement parks, or spend weeks at some expensive resort. We couldn't afford a lot of the fancier things that my friends enjoyed, but I can honestly say I was never jealous. I cherished the moments I spent with my family camping, where the little things in life really matter, and the memories last forever.
(click to embiggen photos)
 |
| Roasting marshmallows. Always delicious. |
As a family with extremely limited means, we never went on vacations to Disneyland like other children our age did. I don't remember ever feeling like we were missing out, because we were together as a family and that was all that mattered. We always went camping to a site that was usually within a two hour drive of the city, but how far away we were from our home didn't matter.
 |
| At the beach with my cousin, Stephen. |
I remember staying up really late in front of a camp fire, roasting marshmallow's and looking up at the stars; always brighter outside the city. These sweet moments of inner reflection and quiet were always quite precious to me and I savored every last second of it.
I remember eating hot dogs for supper, always with that little three pack of ketchup/mustard/relish that you bought specifically for camping. Hot dogs cooked over an open fire are the best tasting hot dogs I've ever had. After a day of running around at the beach or hiking around through the woods, we always had a good appetite and were very grateful for our food.
 |
| In the tent with my sister, Nicole. |
I remember crowding into a small tent when it started to rain, laughing even though we were wet and uncomfortable and cold. We played cards with flashlights as our only way to see until it stopped raining.
I remember midnight trips to the bathroom, struggling to find our way back to the campsite in the dark. There was always someone waiting back at camp, luring us in with a flashlight like we were planes landing in the night.
I remember daily trips to the beach, where we would either play in the sand, or hunt for shells along the water. We would blow up inflatable dinghy's and set sail to the middle of the lake. Sand would find ways of entering your bathing suit and making for an uncomfortable time. The bright colours of sun umbrellas would dot the beach. Sunburn was a common and laying on your towel eating sunflower seeds was heaven.
 |
| Nicole and I on the boat. |
I remember never having an electric camp site. Our entertainment was each other, and the fun activities we took part in. We kept our food cold not with fridges, but with ice packs pre-frozen at home, and bags upon bags of ice. Dishes were washed with water from a manual pump that was heated over the fire. We didn't have cell phones, internet access, television, video games, or iPods, and we didn't miss them.
I remember falling asleep in a tent, in a sleeping bag on the ground, snuggled in because it was so cold and waking up sweaty in what could only be described as a sauna.
 |
| Marshmallowy Goodness |
I remember Mom buying us ice cream, which always tastes extra delicious when you're camping. A little restaurant that served the best burgers I've ever tasted sat by the lake and was always a treasured treat.
I remember the drive home always seemed longer, and we were always exhausted after a few days of enjoying the beauty of nature, the closeness of family, the challenge of "roughing it", the conversation, and the peace and quiet that camping offered.
Many of my friends families at the time would go on vacation to other countries, stay in expensive hotels, visit incredible amusement parks, or spend weeks at some expensive resort. We couldn't afford a lot of the fancier things that my friends enjoyed, but I can honestly say I was never jealous. I cherished the moments I spent with my family camping, where the little things in life really matter, and the memories last forever.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Making Healthy Choices
It's been pretty high on my to-do list for years, but I'm never able to stick with it for longer than a week or two. Eating healthier and cooking good meals is something that I enjoy doing quite a bit. I prefer the taste of healthier food and I love to put together meals that make my little family happy. Unfortunately, it's all too easy to go for a meal that's "convenient" but absolutely horrible for you. I'm talking about the Burger King's, the McDonalds, or even the Subways that are convenient to buy and eat, but bad for you and expensive.
Recently, some information has come to light about Dave's seizures that has made it important that we make healthier choices. The seizures are a side effect of diabetic insulin use. In order to stop them, a low carbohydrate and low fat diet should do wonders for making things easier to manage. So, you can see why a McFattyCarb Burger isn't the best choice right now or ever, really.
Funnily enough, we just watched Supersize Me, that documentary from 2004 about the fast food industry. It certainly did the trick to get us motivated to eat healthier, as we immediately went out to buy salad and fruit afterward from the grocery store.
I'm happy that we're going to be eating healthier. It's something I've always wanted to do and now that there are a few really important reasons to take that leap to healthier eating, it's finally going to happen. Not only should Dave's health improve, but we will be able to set a better example for Squishy and I'm sure we'll both have more energy to raise the little one.
In September of 2010, I quit smoking. I had my last cigarette, and I was done. Just up and quit one day. I quit cold turkey and although it was incredibly difficult to accomplish, I am happy every day that I made that choice to quit. I had smoked for 10 years and the addiction had a hold on me big time. I was smoking $300 worth of cigarettes a month. I set a date, and I had my last smoke that day. I haven't looked back and quite frankly, I don't want to.
Learning to say "no" to fast food will be difficult too, no doubt. It's easier than cooking a meal at home, and it just tastes good. Being motivated to eat healthier meals at home feels really good right now. I only hope that we can keep it up! It's for the best for all of us.
Recently, some information has come to light about Dave's seizures that has made it important that we make healthier choices. The seizures are a side effect of diabetic insulin use. In order to stop them, a low carbohydrate and low fat diet should do wonders for making things easier to manage. So, you can see why a McFattyCarb Burger isn't the best choice right now or ever, really.
Funnily enough, we just watched Supersize Me, that documentary from 2004 about the fast food industry. It certainly did the trick to get us motivated to eat healthier, as we immediately went out to buy salad and fruit afterward from the grocery store.
I'm happy that we're going to be eating healthier. It's something I've always wanted to do and now that there are a few really important reasons to take that leap to healthier eating, it's finally going to happen. Not only should Dave's health improve, but we will be able to set a better example for Squishy and I'm sure we'll both have more energy to raise the little one.
In September of 2010, I quit smoking. I had my last cigarette, and I was done. Just up and quit one day. I quit cold turkey and although it was incredibly difficult to accomplish, I am happy every day that I made that choice to quit. I had smoked for 10 years and the addiction had a hold on me big time. I was smoking $300 worth of cigarettes a month. I set a date, and I had my last smoke that day. I haven't looked back and quite frankly, I don't want to.
Learning to say "no" to fast food will be difficult too, no doubt. It's easier than cooking a meal at home, and it just tastes good. Being motivated to eat healthier meals at home feels really good right now. I only hope that we can keep it up! It's for the best for all of us.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Thoughts on Birth
Strangely enough, I'm not afraid. I'm not scared of the pain, the amount of time it will take or how difficult it's going to be. I've known for a long time that I want a natural birth, and although several mothers have already called me crazy, I don't want pain medication, an epidural or a planned cesarean section.
I want my body to experience birth the way nature intended it. I'd rather put my trust in my own body, because I don't believe birth is something that needs a "cure" or medicine or anything like that. If something were to go wrong during the birth, then yeah that's what science and medicine are there for and I will gladly do what I need for the health and safety of my child. Unless something is medically necessary, I'm not doing it.
I'm not a masochist. But the pain of child birth has a reason behind it. Your body releases hormones during a natural labor that don't get released if you have an epidural or a c-section. These hormones help you bond with your new baby and help the breastfeeding instinct kick in. I don't want to miss out on anything because I was scared of pain. I look forward to the birthing process... even the pain. Because I will know that the pain I'm going through has a purpose, I will not numb it.
You spend your entire pregnancy avoiding something as simple as Tylenol or even Pepso Bismol. So why, when the journey is almost over, during the final chapter, would you pump your veins full of drugs more potent and powerful than those you have been avoiding for the safety of your child? For some women, this might feel normal and safe and okay, but for me it's something I'm going to do without.
I feel empowered as a woman and I trust my body to do what it was created for. I come from a long line of beautiful and strong women who have done this before me without feeling the need to numb it or make it go away. I welcome the challenge, no matter how difficult or impossible it might seem.
Birth... bring it on.
I want my body to experience birth the way nature intended it. I'd rather put my trust in my own body, because I don't believe birth is something that needs a "cure" or medicine or anything like that. If something were to go wrong during the birth, then yeah that's what science and medicine are there for and I will gladly do what I need for the health and safety of my child. Unless something is medically necessary, I'm not doing it.
I'm not a masochist. But the pain of child birth has a reason behind it. Your body releases hormones during a natural labor that don't get released if you have an epidural or a c-section. These hormones help you bond with your new baby and help the breastfeeding instinct kick in. I don't want to miss out on anything because I was scared of pain. I look forward to the birthing process... even the pain. Because I will know that the pain I'm going through has a purpose, I will not numb it.
You spend your entire pregnancy avoiding something as simple as Tylenol or even Pepso Bismol. So why, when the journey is almost over, during the final chapter, would you pump your veins full of drugs more potent and powerful than those you have been avoiding for the safety of your child? For some women, this might feel normal and safe and okay, but for me it's something I'm going to do without.
I feel empowered as a woman and I trust my body to do what it was created for. I come from a long line of beautiful and strong women who have done this before me without feeling the need to numb it or make it go away. I welcome the challenge, no matter how difficult or impossible it might seem.
Birth... bring it on.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Dear Oil Painting, I Miss You
I know it's been a long time since I've talked to, or even really just acknowledged your existence. As far as the arts go, you mean the most to me and yet for the last 7 months, I haven't given you the time of day. The brushes, well they sit, probably hardened from linseed oil residue, in the storage room. Not far from them is the paint; the precious paint.
The individual tubes of Windsor and Newton artist's oils, the few scattered tubes of Grumbacher, that sixty dollar tube of cadmium red that took me forever to find and afford; all abandoned without just cause. You all sit there in a plastic drawer, waiting... begging to be used again. What was once an extension of my fleshy human arm sits there in that drawer like so much forgotten trash.
I know that sometimes I was impatient with you as I waited for a layer to dry so I could successfully apply more paint. I promise that, if you allow me to hang out with you again, I won't try to rush you or treat you like acrylic paint. I know that you like to take things slow, and I'm okay with that now. I'm more patient now. Things will be different this time.
Mr. Easel... oh dearest easel, I miss you the most. You held my canvases sturdy and unmoving while I meticulously applied paint. You didn't even say anything about that one abomination I created, or that other one that never saw the light of day but I had the best intentions for it. You simply sat there, silent and supportive, atop a desk coated in a random assortment of oil paints, pastel dust, turpentine and gesso. You are like a trusted friend made of oak and brass and the most modest coat of varnish. I love your drawer, even though I rarely used it. I love your sturdy wooden frame, caked with oil paint drippings because I'm perhaps one of the messiest artist's alive, but you didn't seem to mind. You used to proudly sit as the focal point of the room. Now you're in a storage room under a pile of musical instruments and empty boxes. I never wanted things to be this way.
I wanted to tell you that I had been thinking about you a lot lately. Right now, I'm with another hobby. Honestly, it's a less involved hobby that really doesn't teach me anything and it isn't a challenge at all. It's just fulfilling a need I have for decorating a room for our new addition. I swear I'll come back to you eventually... but right now you're just more than I need. Soon though, Oil Painting... soon. I miss your smell, and I miss those nights we used to spend together until the sun came up. I miss what we used to create together. I miss my hands being stained a kaleidoscope of colours and I miss your chemistry. I miss the meditative quality you create in my life, and all of the things you teach me. I miss mixing colours and learning about glazing, the "fat over lean" rule and that layering technique I could never allow myself to follow because I was always in such a rush.
I still have feelings for you, Oil Painting. I hope to add permanent staining to my clothing again with you very soon. Until that time, know that you are always in my thoughts.
Love,
Wendy
The individual tubes of Windsor and Newton artist's oils, the few scattered tubes of Grumbacher, that sixty dollar tube of cadmium red that took me forever to find and afford; all abandoned without just cause. You all sit there in a plastic drawer, waiting... begging to be used again. What was once an extension of my fleshy human arm sits there in that drawer like so much forgotten trash.
I know that sometimes I was impatient with you as I waited for a layer to dry so I could successfully apply more paint. I promise that, if you allow me to hang out with you again, I won't try to rush you or treat you like acrylic paint. I know that you like to take things slow, and I'm okay with that now. I'm more patient now. Things will be different this time.
 |
| My most popular oil painting - Love Letter |
I wanted to tell you that I had been thinking about you a lot lately. Right now, I'm with another hobby. Honestly, it's a less involved hobby that really doesn't teach me anything and it isn't a challenge at all. It's just fulfilling a need I have for decorating a room for our new addition. I swear I'll come back to you eventually... but right now you're just more than I need. Soon though, Oil Painting... soon. I miss your smell, and I miss those nights we used to spend together until the sun came up. I miss what we used to create together. I miss my hands being stained a kaleidoscope of colours and I miss your chemistry. I miss the meditative quality you create in my life, and all of the things you teach me. I miss mixing colours and learning about glazing, the "fat over lean" rule and that layering technique I could never allow myself to follow because I was always in such a rush.
I still have feelings for you, Oil Painting. I hope to add permanent staining to my clothing again with you very soon. Until that time, know that you are always in my thoughts.
Love,
Wendy
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The Crib is Complete
It's always a great feeling when you have one less thing to do. This is especially true when you have a baby growing inside you and the time is ticking very quickly until they arrive into the world naked and screaming. When that happens, I won't have time for anything for a long time. It instills a sense of urgency to things like getting the room ready. I'm happy to announce that last night at around 11:00PM, Squishy's crib was finally completed.
It's gorgeous. It's perfect. It's for our baby.
I absolutely love it! Dave loves it and I'm sure swimming around in there, Squishy loves it too. It converts into a deeper crib, then a toddler bed and into a full sized bed as the baby gets older. I love the dark wood finish, and never liked the "white everything" rule for babies. It's a beautiful espresso finish and very shiny. It has that new wood smell that I love, and it really makes the room seem more complete.
It isn't in its final position in the room just yet. I'll probably spend at least an hour agonizing over the positioning of the furniture in the room some day coming up soon, but for now I'm just happy that if Squishy were to be born tomorrow, he or she would have a bed to sleep in. We just need to get a crib mattress.
It's gorgeous. It's perfect. It's for our baby.
(click to embiggen)
I absolutely love it! Dave loves it and I'm sure swimming around in there, Squishy loves it too. It converts into a deeper crib, then a toddler bed and into a full sized bed as the baby gets older. I love the dark wood finish, and never liked the "white everything" rule for babies. It's a beautiful espresso finish and very shiny. It has that new wood smell that I love, and it really makes the room seem more complete.
It isn't in its final position in the room just yet. I'll probably spend at least an hour agonizing over the positioning of the furniture in the room some day coming up soon, but for now I'm just happy that if Squishy were to be born tomorrow, he or she would have a bed to sleep in. We just need to get a crib mattress.
A Girl, Distracted
I start more projects than I finish, and I want to do more things than I end up having time for. My mind changes often and I'm easily distracted. This all equates to a very long list of half finished art.
Back when I used to knit a lot, and had a knitting blog that I kept up regularly, I had it made. People enjoyed what I did, I was making money, and I was designing a lot of patterns. When I started something, I would finish it before moving onto something else. I would often have several projects on the needles at any given time, but the vast majority of them ended up being finished.
That was when I was at my best, and it showed! It was an enjoyable time in my life and I felt accomplished and validated for my efforts. Unfortunately, that was not "normal Wendy", but some bizarre other-me. The regular me has the best of intentions, but things don't always get finished.
It doesn't even matter if I have a lot of people who are excited to see finished projects. I would start a drawing, a bunch of people would be excited and anxious to see the finished project, but I'd end up distracted by something else. It might be a new drawing, a painting project, or learning a new technique or skill. I feel sometimes that I'm always letting people down.
Several months ago, I bought enough fabric to make a bedding set for Squishy's crib. Never even started it. A week or two ago I got crayons and colouring sheets to make up for the baby's room and I haven't started that yet either. I have several half-painted figurines laying around here somewhere that I meant to paint but got distracted by something else.
Almost a year ago I had made it public that I was going to be creating a very ambitious art project that was to be a series of drawings relating to World War 2. I had another series planned that was to be centered around death portraiture, an outdated practice from the Victorian era. Did I start either of these projects? No. Did I want to? Yes!
I need to find some way to keep myself motivated throughout and entire project until completion. I need to avoid getting distracted or starting something new until I've finished what I was working on before. This is where I'm hoping having this blog will help me. The last time I was able to finish things in an efficient manner almost all the time, I was consistently blogging about the projects I was working on, similar to the way I'm blogging about my Grandfather's chair as I work on it. There is just something about publishing something permanently online on a blog that makes it seem like a legal contract of sorts. Also, it helps keep me excited about the project and document my progress.
My overall main project for the next month and a half until the baby is born is to finish the bedroom and have it decorated really nice. So I'll need to finish the chair, probably more frames, colour and hang pictures, and finish painting figurines.
There. Now that it's on the blog, I have to do it.
Back when I used to knit a lot, and had a knitting blog that I kept up regularly, I had it made. People enjoyed what I did, I was making money, and I was designing a lot of patterns. When I started something, I would finish it before moving onto something else. I would often have several projects on the needles at any given time, but the vast majority of them ended up being finished.
That was when I was at my best, and it showed! It was an enjoyable time in my life and I felt accomplished and validated for my efforts. Unfortunately, that was not "normal Wendy", but some bizarre other-me. The regular me has the best of intentions, but things don't always get finished.
It doesn't even matter if I have a lot of people who are excited to see finished projects. I would start a drawing, a bunch of people would be excited and anxious to see the finished project, but I'd end up distracted by something else. It might be a new drawing, a painting project, or learning a new technique or skill. I feel sometimes that I'm always letting people down.
Several months ago, I bought enough fabric to make a bedding set for Squishy's crib. Never even started it. A week or two ago I got crayons and colouring sheets to make up for the baby's room and I haven't started that yet either. I have several half-painted figurines laying around here somewhere that I meant to paint but got distracted by something else.
Almost a year ago I had made it public that I was going to be creating a very ambitious art project that was to be a series of drawings relating to World War 2. I had another series planned that was to be centered around death portraiture, an outdated practice from the Victorian era. Did I start either of these projects? No. Did I want to? Yes!
I need to find some way to keep myself motivated throughout and entire project until completion. I need to avoid getting distracted or starting something new until I've finished what I was working on before. This is where I'm hoping having this blog will help me. The last time I was able to finish things in an efficient manner almost all the time, I was consistently blogging about the projects I was working on, similar to the way I'm blogging about my Grandfather's chair as I work on it. There is just something about publishing something permanently online on a blog that makes it seem like a legal contract of sorts. Also, it helps keep me excited about the project and document my progress.
My overall main project for the next month and a half until the baby is born is to finish the bedroom and have it decorated really nice. So I'll need to finish the chair, probably more frames, colour and hang pictures, and finish painting figurines.
There. Now that it's on the blog, I have to do it.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Stripping is Hard
Before you start scrolling through the post looking for nude photos, I'm talking about paint stripping. I did okay, scraping away the layers of paint and varnish, but it takes quite a bit longer than I originally anticipated. I knew this wasn't going to be an easy job, but wasn't quite expecting it to take as long as it has. I figured it was easy enough to do, just monotonous.
This morning I woke up and my arms are sore from stripping. It seems easy enough while you're doing it, but I guess you really do get some sort of workout in the process. I've never been in great shape as far as physical endurance and strength are concerned, but today I learned that even an hour of stripping is too much for these weak arms.
After a hour of scraping wood, this is where we're at:
Not even half way done! Do you know how hard it is to get varnish from the 1930's off of wood? Very hard! Just like everything was made more durable in the early 20th century, varnish (potentially shellac which is a natural resin secreted by the female lac bug, and was commonly used during the time) is almost impossible to remove. Whether it's shellac or an early version of the synthetic polyurethane varnish, it is coming off, just at a much slower rate than the blue paint that was painted over top.
I'm taking a break from the chair today in order to set up the baby's new crib. I'm so happy that the room is finally starting to come together. For the longest time, it's only had a play pen and a closet full of clothing. Now there will actually be a central focus in the room instead of a bunch of random bits.
My grandfather's chair will have to wait for tomorrow. But once tomorrow comes, and my arms have slightly recovered from last night's abuse... it's game over for that varnish!
This morning I woke up and my arms are sore from stripping. It seems easy enough while you're doing it, but I guess you really do get some sort of workout in the process. I've never been in great shape as far as physical endurance and strength are concerned, but today I learned that even an hour of stripping is too much for these weak arms.
After a hour of scraping wood, this is where we're at:
(click to embiggen)
Not even half way done! Do you know how hard it is to get varnish from the 1930's off of wood? Very hard! Just like everything was made more durable in the early 20th century, varnish (potentially shellac which is a natural resin secreted by the female lac bug, and was commonly used during the time) is almost impossible to remove. Whether it's shellac or an early version of the synthetic polyurethane varnish, it is coming off, just at a much slower rate than the blue paint that was painted over top.
I'm taking a break from the chair today in order to set up the baby's new crib. I'm so happy that the room is finally starting to come together. For the longest time, it's only had a play pen and a closet full of clothing. Now there will actually be a central focus in the room instead of a bunch of random bits.
My grandfather's chair will have to wait for tomorrow. But once tomorrow comes, and my arms have slightly recovered from last night's abuse... it's game over for that varnish!
The Best and Worst Part of Pregnancy
You're frequently uncomfortable, your feet hurt and swell, your back hurts, and you're hungrier than you've ever been in your life. But, do you want to know what the worst part about pregnancy is? Having to buy new clothes! It seems like I'm growing out of shirts faster than I can buy them. I'm just happy that I've been able to find really good deals at Wal Mart. Today I got 4 shirts that were only $7 each. They aren't technically maternity shirts but they fit nicely and cover the belly and that's all I ask for these days.
I invested in flip flops. I've never owned flip flops in my life because I find them weird and noisy. However, at the current time, my feet and ankles get so swollen that socks feel too tight and make creepy dents in my legs and shoes are hard to get on. Slip-ons? Yes, please! They look pretty nice and are sort of comfortable. I am really not used to not having socks on and it's freaking me out, but I guess it will just have to work for the next few months.
Also, invested in some pants that I can actually squeeze my butt into. Yes, it's gotten quite enormous. They convert from pants to capris to shorts so I should be relatively set for the remaining summer months. Top it all off with a maternity bra (I will need it for breastfeeding anyway... gosh these things are ugly but comfortable) and I should be done buying clothes for myself.
If I grow out of these clothes, I give up. I will wear sheets and curtains.
On the other side of the coin, want to know what I like the most about pregnancy? There are a lot of things I enjoy, like feeling the baby moving in there, buying clothes and other baby stuff, thinking of names, imagining life with a baby and imagining what he or she will look like. My favorite part o fall though, is doing things for the baby. Mostly creative things, like painting the frames or the little figurines.
Today I started work on my grandfather's chair. Using the stripping stone I got, I was able to get a good deal of the paint off before it started raining and I had to leave the balcony for a drier living room. The wood underneath is kind of ugly... at least it's nothing special, so I'm leaning toward either staining it to match the crib, or painting it to match the crib, which we got yesterday! It's absolutely gorgeous and I can't wait to set it up when Dave gets home from work. It's a nice dark espresso finish and quite attractive looking. What's even better is that it converts into a toddler bed and a full size bed, so Squishy is set for life as long as it doesn't get broken.
I'm looking forward to decorating the nursery and getting everything put together and ready for the arrival of the baby. It should be a lot of fun!
I invested in flip flops. I've never owned flip flops in my life because I find them weird and noisy. However, at the current time, my feet and ankles get so swollen that socks feel too tight and make creepy dents in my legs and shoes are hard to get on. Slip-ons? Yes, please! They look pretty nice and are sort of comfortable. I am really not used to not having socks on and it's freaking me out, but I guess it will just have to work for the next few months.
Also, invested in some pants that I can actually squeeze my butt into. Yes, it's gotten quite enormous. They convert from pants to capris to shorts so I should be relatively set for the remaining summer months. Top it all off with a maternity bra (I will need it for breastfeeding anyway... gosh these things are ugly but comfortable) and I should be done buying clothes for myself.
If I grow out of these clothes, I give up. I will wear sheets and curtains.
On the other side of the coin, want to know what I like the most about pregnancy? There are a lot of things I enjoy, like feeling the baby moving in there, buying clothes and other baby stuff, thinking of names, imagining life with a baby and imagining what he or she will look like. My favorite part o fall though, is doing things for the baby. Mostly creative things, like painting the frames or the little figurines.
Today I started work on my grandfather's chair. Using the stripping stone I got, I was able to get a good deal of the paint off before it started raining and I had to leave the balcony for a drier living room. The wood underneath is kind of ugly... at least it's nothing special, so I'm leaning toward either staining it to match the crib, or painting it to match the crib, which we got yesterday! It's absolutely gorgeous and I can't wait to set it up when Dave gets home from work. It's a nice dark espresso finish and quite attractive looking. What's even better is that it converts into a toddler bed and a full size bed, so Squishy is set for life as long as it doesn't get broken.
I'm looking forward to decorating the nursery and getting everything put together and ready for the arrival of the baby. It should be a lot of fun!
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Sleep Not, My Love. It's Raining
For a great many years now, Dave has had nocturnal seizures. Seizures in his sleep. He's been to numerous doctors to try and find out what is causing them and how to stop them. He's on medication but it doesn't seem to help at all. Sometimes he doesn't even know he has them until I tell him the next day. The next day after he's had a seizure, he is often quite out of it and groggy.
Well, he has an EEG (which stands for Electroencephalography if you wanted to know) which is basically a procedure where they monitor brain waves. They do this by hooking up electrodes to your scalp. He has been for one before, but the results came back completely normal. This time, they want to do the testing again, but without him having slept the night before. Since his seizures only ever happen while he is asleep, they are hoping a sleep-deprivation EEG will tell them something that the last one didn't.
My only hope is that we can figure out what is causing the seizures and other health concerns. It's horrible watching the person you love go through difficult times medically. You feel helpless. All you can do is do your own research online to try and pinpoint what could be causing things, and stay by their side to provide support while they ride out the storm.
As if mirroring these feelings; it's raining here as I write this. While I do love the rain, sometimes you just have to hope for the sun to shine.
Well, he has an EEG (which stands for Electroencephalography if you wanted to know) which is basically a procedure where they monitor brain waves. They do this by hooking up electrodes to your scalp. He has been for one before, but the results came back completely normal. This time, they want to do the testing again, but without him having slept the night before. Since his seizures only ever happen while he is asleep, they are hoping a sleep-deprivation EEG will tell them something that the last one didn't.
My only hope is that we can figure out what is causing the seizures and other health concerns. It's horrible watching the person you love go through difficult times medically. You feel helpless. All you can do is do your own research online to try and pinpoint what could be causing things, and stay by their side to provide support while they ride out the storm.
As if mirroring these feelings; it's raining here as I write this. While I do love the rain, sometimes you just have to hope for the sun to shine.
Monday, June 13, 2011
3 Days in Kindersley
For the last three days, I was laptopless in small-town Saskatchewan. The blog posts you read during that time were written by me prior to leaving, and my blog automagically (that's right, automagically) updated with posts I wrote prior to leaving. I missed you blog!
Kindersley is a small town close to the border between Saskatchewan and Alberta. It's Dave's home town and we visit there as often as we can to see his family. It's a cute little farming town of about 4,500 residents. Compared to the city of Regina where we live, Kindersley is much more laid back and people seem friendlier in general. It's the kind of place where the word community still has meaning and you don't need to worry about being stabbed outside 7-11. It's a place that really helps point out the down sides to living in a big city where you usually don't even know your neighbors.
The three days we spent there were enjoyable as usual. We spent a lot of time with family, enjoying meals together the way families should. I often joke that Saskatchewan is a boring province with nothing but flatness to be seen for miles. While this is pretty accurate overall, I think sometimes I fail to see the hidden beauty in this province. I also sometimes think I take that flat land for granted. Sure... it might not be the most exciting thing to look at on the planet, but it's where a lot of our food comes from and there really can be a certain interest and beauty in its simplicity. It's a landscape style that isn't as obvious in its beauty as a mountain would be, or a waterfall. One thing that I've always liked about Saskatchewan is how gorgeous the skies can look, especially when the sun is on its way down.
Dave and I usually do a lot of driving around when we're in Kindersley. He often shows me little places that mean something to him or hold some memory from his childhood. One of the things he wanted to show me this time was a hill that he referred to as 'Big Ben'. By conventional standards, there isn't anything big about this hill, but it's a pretty high point as far as Saskatchewan landscape is concerned. We drove as far up to it as we thought was possible and then had to get out to hike up the rest of the way. I made it about half way up before the mosquito's got the best of me and sent me flailing back to the truck. There, I performed a 10 minute battle with the mosquitoes that followed me into the vehicle, cursing all the while. Although mother nature defeated me this round, Dave made the trek to the top and I managed to take a picture of him safely through the window. The mosquitoes did not let him go without a battle, however, and this resulted in another 10 minute battle when he got back to the truck. His arms were covered in bites from the little jerks, but I'm sure the view from the top of the hill was worth suffering for.
After another lovely visit to Kindersley, it's still good to be home. Tomorrow, we go pick up Juno, who apparently behaved really well for my Mom. It's a relief that she's still capable of proper dog behavior, especially after last time we left her with my Mom and she was terrible. This was likely the last visit out of town until the baby comes. Already it's getting painful to be sitting in a vehicle for that amount of time and there is always the possibility that Squishy will come early. We received a lovely and generous gift of some great baby stuff from Dave's Brother and Sister in law, Neil and Briana (Thanks again if you're reading this! You two are awesome!). We feel more and more prepared for baby arrival all the time and can only hope that my healthy straight-forward pregnancy turns into a baby who is just as healthy and happy.
It's been a rainy last few days and on the drive back to Regina from Kindersley we encountered quite a bit of sky water. Not long after we left, I happened to look back and see a pretty cool sight. Part of a cloud being rained down upon some unsuspecting bit of land, but it looked so cool from where we were, where there wasn't a drop at the time.
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| A quick shot out the window during the drive |
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| Another quick shot out the window at rural Saskatchewan |
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| The sun setting on our way to Kindersley |
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| A very far away Dave atop Big Ben |
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| A typical Kindersley Landscape |
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| A spot of rain from afar on the drive home. |
It's been a rainy last few days and on the drive back to Regina from Kindersley we encountered quite a bit of sky water. Not long after we left, I happened to look back and see a pretty cool sight. Part of a cloud being rained down upon some unsuspecting bit of land, but it looked so cool from where we were, where there wasn't a drop at the time.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Wendy Facts: Social Phobia
Not a lot of people know it, because there aren't many people I spend time with, but I have social phobia. Basically, I'm scared to be in social situations that are unfamiliar to me. This includes things as simple as going to a meeting of like-minded people (probably why I've only been to one CFI get-together), meeting a new person or people, or being anywhere that includes large crowds.
For a while a few years ago, I was put on medication to treat my social phobia, and other phobias, but I voluntarily decided to cease use of the medication. Why? Because it made me a zombie who was no longer able to do art or think creatively. I figured I'd rather feel things a little more intensely than most people rather than feel nothing at all. Ever.
Living with social phobia can be difficult. Although you don't find yourself missing the social interaction, you do find yourself looking like a jerk when someone asks to meet you somewhere or you get invited to something and you keep making up excuses as to why you can't make it. You become somewhat of a shut-in, going out only as often as is necessary for survival.
I often get asked what it is that I'm afraid of. To be honest, I'm afraid of almost everything. I'm afraid of being attacked by someone randomly in a crowd, of looking stupid in front of people I've just met, of offending people with my opinions, of being judged, hated, and so on. I am a person who can be quite odd and I have a lot of opinions and beliefs that are controversial (like the fact that I'm an atheist for example). I can be awkward or laugh too much or look like I'm angry when I'm not or I might be so worried about saying the wrong thing that I'll say nothing at all and end up looking like I'm unfriendly. I fear I constantly give people the wrong impression.
Once I'm comfortable with someone, all of the negative feelings, the anxiety attacks and the fear goes away and I can be more like the real Wendy. I'm happy communicating online, because I can do so without the usual fears and panic that I get when meeting someone in real life. Now if only I could figure out a way to just be natural and without fear in unfamiliar social situations, I'm sure my life would just feel more fulfilled and I'd have opportunities that are impossible with the social phobia.
For a while a few years ago, I was put on medication to treat my social phobia, and other phobias, but I voluntarily decided to cease use of the medication. Why? Because it made me a zombie who was no longer able to do art or think creatively. I figured I'd rather feel things a little more intensely than most people rather than feel nothing at all. Ever.
Living with social phobia can be difficult. Although you don't find yourself missing the social interaction, you do find yourself looking like a jerk when someone asks to meet you somewhere or you get invited to something and you keep making up excuses as to why you can't make it. You become somewhat of a shut-in, going out only as often as is necessary for survival.
I often get asked what it is that I'm afraid of. To be honest, I'm afraid of almost everything. I'm afraid of being attacked by someone randomly in a crowd, of looking stupid in front of people I've just met, of offending people with my opinions, of being judged, hated, and so on. I am a person who can be quite odd and I have a lot of opinions and beliefs that are controversial (like the fact that I'm an atheist for example). I can be awkward or laugh too much or look like I'm angry when I'm not or I might be so worried about saying the wrong thing that I'll say nothing at all and end up looking like I'm unfriendly. I fear I constantly give people the wrong impression.
Once I'm comfortable with someone, all of the negative feelings, the anxiety attacks and the fear goes away and I can be more like the real Wendy. I'm happy communicating online, because I can do so without the usual fears and panic that I get when meeting someone in real life. Now if only I could figure out a way to just be natural and without fear in unfamiliar social situations, I'm sure my life would just feel more fulfilled and I'd have opportunities that are impossible with the social phobia.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Artist Tools Review: FolkArt Acrylic Craft Paint
One of the things I'd like to do with my blog is to do the occasional review on something that I use, which in my case is a whole lot of art and craft supplies. It's a pretty common question that I get anyway when people see my art, "What did you use to make that?", "What should I use to [insert art or craft project]". Every once in a while, I'll do a review on something that I use in particular, to pass on what I've experienced and know about a specific art or crafting tool.
Today's subject? FolkArt Acrylic Paint. I don't use acrylic paints for my "serious" art, like portraits or landscapes or any paintings, really. I use professional quality oil paints for that, but when it comes to decorative painting, I always turn toward some type of cheap acrylic paint. A few weeks ago, I went a little too cheap, and got a package of 36 tubes of paint from WalMart for $11. Mistake. Back in the day, however, I always used FolkArt Acrylic Paint, so I decided to buy some more.
There are three basic types of acrylic paint, and they have different uses. When I say "cheap acrylic" it doesn't mean bad quality. That's just how I refer to the often-inexpensive craft paint. The other types of acrylic paint are geared more towards creating paintings and other forms of fine art. You will find this type of acrylic in either student grade (less pigment load) and professional grade (higher pigment load) and in a variety of thicknesses and consistencies, with no shortage of mediums to mix with them... like oil paints! Craft paint is on the other end of the spectrum. It is usually quite thin in its consistency and there are tons of brands to choose from and usually a larger colour selection, as they are designed for the crafter who may not be too keen on colour mixing and theory. FolkArt is that type of paint.
It comes in either 2oz. or 8oz. bottles. For most colours, I go with the 2 oz, which run around $2.50 each at my local craft store, Michaels. However, for colours I use a lot, like black and white, I try to get the 8oz. size. They usually run around $9 or $10. I love their colour selection, which right now according to the website is 210 colours. However, they are constantly releasing new colours and retiring old ones which is fine until you run out of a colour and find out that they no longer make it. I haven't had this happen yet because it's extremely rare for me to run out of a tube of this paint, but I'm sure it's happened to some.
In comparison to other acrylic craft paints that I have used, FolkArt has the best opacity and the best pigment load. Colours are vibrant and cover easily in 1 or 2 coats (not like the crappy WalMart paint I bought that didn't even cover after 5 coats). The consistency of the paint is very smooth, which I like especially for painting wood surfaces, where some paints tend to glob up. Like most craft paint it dries quickly with a matte finish.
FolkArt acrylics also come in novelty styles, like the 30 or so metallic colours which are great for decorative objects. Their high-definition line of paints is a really thick formula that dries in a raised fashion for texture work.
Overall, if you are looking for a craft paint for some easy projects or around-the-house decorative work, you can't go wrong with FolkArt. You pay a bit more compared to other brands, but the added cost is worth it. The pigments are richer, the consistency is smoother and the coverage is unbeatable.
Today's subject? FolkArt Acrylic Paint. I don't use acrylic paints for my "serious" art, like portraits or landscapes or any paintings, really. I use professional quality oil paints for that, but when it comes to decorative painting, I always turn toward some type of cheap acrylic paint. A few weeks ago, I went a little too cheap, and got a package of 36 tubes of paint from WalMart for $11. Mistake. Back in the day, however, I always used FolkArt Acrylic Paint, so I decided to buy some more.
There are three basic types of acrylic paint, and they have different uses. When I say "cheap acrylic" it doesn't mean bad quality. That's just how I refer to the often-inexpensive craft paint. The other types of acrylic paint are geared more towards creating paintings and other forms of fine art. You will find this type of acrylic in either student grade (less pigment load) and professional grade (higher pigment load) and in a variety of thicknesses and consistencies, with no shortage of mediums to mix with them... like oil paints! Craft paint is on the other end of the spectrum. It is usually quite thin in its consistency and there are tons of brands to choose from and usually a larger colour selection, as they are designed for the crafter who may not be too keen on colour mixing and theory. FolkArt is that type of paint.
It comes in either 2oz. or 8oz. bottles. For most colours, I go with the 2 oz, which run around $2.50 each at my local craft store, Michaels. However, for colours I use a lot, like black and white, I try to get the 8oz. size. They usually run around $9 or $10. I love their colour selection, which right now according to the website is 210 colours. However, they are constantly releasing new colours and retiring old ones which is fine until you run out of a colour and find out that they no longer make it. I haven't had this happen yet because it's extremely rare for me to run out of a tube of this paint, but I'm sure it's happened to some.
In comparison to other acrylic craft paints that I have used, FolkArt has the best opacity and the best pigment load. Colours are vibrant and cover easily in 1 or 2 coats (not like the crappy WalMart paint I bought that didn't even cover after 5 coats). The consistency of the paint is very smooth, which I like especially for painting wood surfaces, where some paints tend to glob up. Like most craft paint it dries quickly with a matte finish.
FolkArt acrylics also come in novelty styles, like the 30 or so metallic colours which are great for decorative objects. Their high-definition line of paints is a really thick formula that dries in a raised fashion for texture work.
Overall, if you are looking for a craft paint for some easy projects or around-the-house decorative work, you can't go wrong with FolkArt. You pay a bit more compared to other brands, but the added cost is worth it. The pigments are richer, the consistency is smoother and the coverage is unbeatable.
Friday, June 10, 2011
My Grandfather's Chair
Antique restoration isn't my usual forte, but in this case, completely necessary. My grandfather, who passed away in October of 1998 (miss you Grandpa!) was a really interesting person. I wish I could have gotten to know him as an adult. I remember him as a grumpy old man, and one who was very sick before he passed away. He was a preacher at a church and he loved peanut butter sandwiches almost as much as he loved watching the news from a La-Z-Boy recliner in his and my Grandma's living room.
With a baby coming, I'm spending so much time lately looking toward the future that I feel it is necessary to add a little history and pay homage to my grandfather in the form of an antique gift for Squishy. In the 1930's, when my grandfather was a little boy, he had a tiny wooden rocking chair. Luckily enough, this wooden rocking chair is still within my family and I now have possession of it. It's seen better days and has a coat of blue paint covering the natural wood grain. It is chipped and missing some screws and nails, and is scratched up pretty badly, but it is my hope that I can restore it, and make it useable for my own child.
First, I will have to strip off the existing paint and the old varnish beneath that. Then, I'll sand it down smooth. Then, I will need to assess the state of the wood and make a decision to either a) stain it, b) paint it, or c) leave the original wood grain in tact. Then, I will need a good 3 or maybe 4 coats of fresh varnish and to replace some of the hardware. Once that is done, it should be perfect to add to the baby's room to give it a touch of personal history.
I feel as though a "before" shot will really help show what kind of a state it is in, and how much work it will need to become beautiful again. Mind you... it does have its beautiful, historical qualities. I do love old things with history! Here it is!
As I was taking photos of the chair, I wanted to look at some pictures of my grandfather as a child. About a year ago my grandma gave me a bunch of really old family photos, some that go as far back as the late 1800's. I have lots of photos of my grandfather as a child, and as I was looking through them, I came across one that has the chair in it! In the below photo you can see my grandfather (handsome young chap wasn't he?) sitting in a wooden chair, and if you look in the bottom left hand corner of the picture, you can see the back rest of this chair.
Dave and I are in Kindersley for the weekend (I've set the blog to automatically update new posts while I'm away.) but I look forward to starting my chair restoration project as soon as we return. I will be keeping the blog updated on the progress.
With a baby coming, I'm spending so much time lately looking toward the future that I feel it is necessary to add a little history and pay homage to my grandfather in the form of an antique gift for Squishy. In the 1930's, when my grandfather was a little boy, he had a tiny wooden rocking chair. Luckily enough, this wooden rocking chair is still within my family and I now have possession of it. It's seen better days and has a coat of blue paint covering the natural wood grain. It is chipped and missing some screws and nails, and is scratched up pretty badly, but it is my hope that I can restore it, and make it useable for my own child.
First, I will have to strip off the existing paint and the old varnish beneath that. Then, I'll sand it down smooth. Then, I will need to assess the state of the wood and make a decision to either a) stain it, b) paint it, or c) leave the original wood grain in tact. Then, I will need a good 3 or maybe 4 coats of fresh varnish and to replace some of the hardware. Once that is done, it should be perfect to add to the baby's room to give it a touch of personal history.
I feel as though a "before" shot will really help show what kind of a state it is in, and how much work it will need to become beautiful again. Mind you... it does have its beautiful, historical qualities. I do love old things with history! Here it is!
(click to embiggen)
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| The chair. Isn't it cute? I can't wait to sand off the paint and see what the wood looks like. |
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| A close-up shot of some of the damage, showing what the wood looks like underneath. |
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| My grandfather sitting beside the chair that I'm refinishing for the baby. |
Dave and I are in Kindersley for the weekend (I've set the blog to automatically update new posts while I'm away.) but I look forward to starting my chair restoration project as soon as we return. I will be keeping the blog updated on the progress.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
50 Ways to Inspire Creativity
I thought it would be fun to make a list of the little things that I do on a regular basis to help inspire creativity within my own life. I encourage you to try these yourself if you are looking for a way to get yourself inspired to create or keep yourself creative. These little tips aren't just for one kind of art but can be used for creativity in any medium.
What do you do to get your creative juices flowing?
- Make idea lists
- Sit outside and enjoy nature
- Go for a walk
- Read about current events
- Listen to classical music
- Close your eyes and listen to the sounds of nature (real life or recorded)
- Take a shower or bath
- Look at art created by other artists
- Talk to other artists (WetCanvas is a great forum)
- Don't try too hard or force it
- Experience something new, whether it be music, movies, or visiting a new place
- Embrace mistakes and learn from them instead of beating yourself up
- Break the rules. All of them if you need to
- Stop thinking and let things happen on their own
- Don't try to be perfect
- Knit
- Write down ideas whenever you have them. Carry a notebook
- Challenge yourself
- Look at your old work
- Do something that makes you happy
- Go for a walk
- Go camping (no electricity! That's cheating!)
- Go to the beach
- Practice often. It's the only way you'll get better
- Go outside when it rains
- Be observant of what's around you. Notice the little things
- Pull inspiration from a dream
- Use your imagination
- Spend time with other creative people
- Learn something new
- Read a science book
- Think
- Read a random page in a dictionary or encyclopedia
- Imagine the future
- Change your normal routine
- Take your time
- Ask 'What if?' questions
- Follow your gut feelings
- Sit in total silence
- Take plenty of risks
- Think about something old in a new way
- Observe people in public
- Think like a child
- Have a conversation about something you normally wouldn't
- Learn a new art technique
- Take a break (don't wear yourself out)
- Go back to basics and do something really easy for a change
- Read quotes from old artists (Van Gogh, Picasso, etc.)
- Spend a day at an art gallery or museum
- Watch an entirely random television channel for a while
What do you do to get your creative juices flowing?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
A Doctor's Appointment and a Box of Crayons
Today was an unusual day for me, in that I was awake before noon. I had my bi-weekly appointment to make sure that Squishy is still going good in my belly. The appointment was at 1:50pm, but my doctor is awesome so he's quite often running late (high demand, this doctor!). To my surprise he was right on time and I had to wait no longer than 2 minutes in the waiting room (a major relief for my lower back). They did their usual weight and blood pressure measurements, which were perfect as usual (my body rocks at pregnancy!) and then I waited for my doc to come and measure the size of my uterus and listen to Squishy's heart beat.
Everything went superb! I'm measuring right on time and Squishy was kicking away, heart beat normal. I also found out that the baby is in the head-down position already, which is a great sign. The doc also gave me my official results from the glucose tolerance test, which I aced. Woohoo!
I was feeling quite baby-proud and excited that everything is still going so well. So, to celebrate we went to Michael's (the art and craft store) to get.... crayons. Yes, like the ones that kids usually use. The reason was because I wanted to get some colouring books, colour up a bunch of nice pages and have them put in Squishy's room as decoration. I thought it would be a fun and cute way to add some colour and kid-like art in there. To my surprise, it doesn't seem like they even make regular colouring books anymore. When I was a kid, there were loads of books with a variety of different pictures you could colour, and the books were thick too!
Not the case at the stores we visited. the only books I could find were thin little books that were themed after a specific cartoon or movie. There were no "general" books with regular pictures in them. While I desperately searched for something that would at least work for the intended purpose, I found the crayons. 64 colours for $5!!! The "professional" art supplies I use would charge like $650 for something that had 64 colours! It was nice, and really took me back to just buy a cheap box of crayons. Eventually I found a "colouring roll" put out by Animal Planet that has a bunch of cool animal pictures that are poster sized (around 11 x 14 each). But seriously... rolls? What happened to good old fashioned books like the ones I had when I was a kid?!?
...Oh great. Now I'm really starting to sound old.
Everything went superb! I'm measuring right on time and Squishy was kicking away, heart beat normal. I also found out that the baby is in the head-down position already, which is a great sign. The doc also gave me my official results from the glucose tolerance test, which I aced. Woohoo!
I was feeling quite baby-proud and excited that everything is still going so well. So, to celebrate we went to Michael's (the art and craft store) to get.... crayons. Yes, like the ones that kids usually use. The reason was because I wanted to get some colouring books, colour up a bunch of nice pages and have them put in Squishy's room as decoration. I thought it would be a fun and cute way to add some colour and kid-like art in there. To my surprise, it doesn't seem like they even make regular colouring books anymore. When I was a kid, there were loads of books with a variety of different pictures you could colour, and the books were thick too!
Not the case at the stores we visited. the only books I could find were thin little books that were themed after a specific cartoon or movie. There were no "general" books with regular pictures in them. While I desperately searched for something that would at least work for the intended purpose, I found the crayons. 64 colours for $5!!! The "professional" art supplies I use would charge like $650 for something that had 64 colours! It was nice, and really took me back to just buy a cheap box of crayons. Eventually I found a "colouring roll" put out by Animal Planet that has a bunch of cool animal pictures that are poster sized (around 11 x 14 each). But seriously... rolls? What happened to good old fashioned books like the ones I had when I was a kid?!?
...Oh great. Now I'm really starting to sound old.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
On Being a Glutton
I remember a time when it was difficult for me to finish a meal, much less go back for seconds. It was just a few months ago when Dave would finish his plate of food, then eagerly wait for me to finish with mine before passing him the leftovers. This hasn't happened in at least a month. I have become some sort of insatiable beast-creature, and the bathroom scale reflects this a great deal.
Like some sort of crazed raccoon, I spend my nights foraging for food in the refrigerator. I scarf down everything from entire boxes of Pop-Tarts to large muffins to entire tubs of yogurt. I greedily gorge myself on sandwiches, milk, perogies, pizza, and cheese without even thinking about it. I'm confident that I could win a fast eating contest with a world champion at this stage.
I know that I'm pregnant, and that a voracious appetite is supposed to be normal, but something about the way I've been eating feels like unnatural, depraved behavior. Can this really be normal? If this continues, I'm sure I will explode.
This gluttonous period has to end eventually... right?
Like some sort of crazed raccoon, I spend my nights foraging for food in the refrigerator. I scarf down everything from entire boxes of Pop-Tarts to large muffins to entire tubs of yogurt. I greedily gorge myself on sandwiches, milk, perogies, pizza, and cheese without even thinking about it. I'm confident that I could win a fast eating contest with a world champion at this stage.
I know that I'm pregnant, and that a voracious appetite is supposed to be normal, but something about the way I've been eating feels like unnatural, depraved behavior. Can this really be normal? If this continues, I'm sure I will explode.
This gluttonous period has to end eventually... right?
Monday, June 6, 2011
This Little Piggy
I've been painting little plaster animals for Squishy's room, and enjoyed it so much that some animals have made their way out of the nursery. When I was painting the little monkeys from an earlier post, Dave had mentioned that he would love something similar to have on his desk at work. We went to Michaels so he could pick out a $1.00 plaster figurine for me to paint. He decided on a pig (It's somewhat of an inside joke).
Well yesterday I got the chance to paint this little piggy, and here is what I came up with.
This little piggy left a few hours ago to add fun to a desk on the 10th floor of a downtown office building. Although I only enjoyed a few hours of time with the cute little pig, it was an enjoyable time and I wish him all the best in his new life as a desk mascot.
Bye Piggy!
Well yesterday I got the chance to paint this little piggy, and here is what I came up with.
(click to embiggen)
This little piggy left a few hours ago to add fun to a desk on the 10th floor of a downtown office building. Although I only enjoyed a few hours of time with the cute little pig, it was an enjoyable time and I wish him all the best in his new life as a desk mascot.
Bye Piggy!
Sunday, June 5, 2011
A Day of No Sleep
I haven't slept. Looks like I'm having one of my random all-nighters that tends to happen when I become distracted or determined to finish something. Usually, this is more likely to happen if I start painting or drawing something. I get so wrapped up in it that time doesn't follow rules anymore and before I know it, it's 10:00AM and it just isn't worth going to sleep. So, what kept me up this time?
In this case, I was determined to finish frames for the baby's room. I have three of them completed. They started out as cheap, unfinished wooden frames that I got for $0.66 each (I'm a sucker for a great deal on art/craft supplies). I painted a base coat on each of them, then varnished. From there, I painted polka dots freehand in a contrasting colour. Then, I re-varnished them. Here is the result.
I think they will look great hanging on the wall in the baby's room, and I'm quite pleased with how perfect the colours are and they will really fit the colour theme we have going on already. Now all I need is to find some good photos to put in there. The best part about these frames? Material-wise, the grand total in cost is maximum $2.50, for all 3 frames. Good deal? Heck yes! This is why I don't purchase things retail that I can make myself. I love making art. Love it.
I have 2 canvases. They need something cute painted on them for Squishy's room. Before I dive into that project though, I have some more plaster figurines to paint. I've already started and almost completed a pig, which will grace the work desk of the man I love. For some reason, whoever sculpted the plaster decided it best to give the pig boobs. I also have something I'm going to paint for my Mom, and a few other things for the baby, including a frog wearing a crown.
Today is my younger sisters birthday. Nicole is turning 20 years old today! My family is all meeting her at her place to have cake later this afternoon. She has a cat (I'm crazy allergic to cats) so hopefully I don't go into anaphylactic shock while there.
In this case, I was determined to finish frames for the baby's room. I have three of them completed. They started out as cheap, unfinished wooden frames that I got for $0.66 each (I'm a sucker for a great deal on art/craft supplies). I painted a base coat on each of them, then varnished. From there, I painted polka dots freehand in a contrasting colour. Then, I re-varnished them. Here is the result.
(click to embiggen)
I think they will look great hanging on the wall in the baby's room, and I'm quite pleased with how perfect the colours are and they will really fit the colour theme we have going on already. Now all I need is to find some good photos to put in there. The best part about these frames? Material-wise, the grand total in cost is maximum $2.50, for all 3 frames. Good deal? Heck yes! This is why I don't purchase things retail that I can make myself. I love making art. Love it.
I have 2 canvases. They need something cute painted on them for Squishy's room. Before I dive into that project though, I have some more plaster figurines to paint. I've already started and almost completed a pig, which will grace the work desk of the man I love. For some reason, whoever sculpted the plaster decided it best to give the pig boobs. I also have something I'm going to paint for my Mom, and a few other things for the baby, including a frog wearing a crown.
Today is my younger sisters birthday. Nicole is turning 20 years old today! My family is all meeting her at her place to have cake later this afternoon. She has a cat (I'm crazy allergic to cats) so hopefully I don't go into anaphylactic shock while there.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Turning a Room Into a Baby Resort
We live in a smallish 2 bedroom condo, which is about perfectly sized for us, Juno and the baby on the way. The second bedroom, which used to be used as a mixed-media room that housed both Dave's musical equipment and my art supplies, has been slowly being converted into Squishy's bedroom. We have been hoarding everything baby related in the closet, have cleared out the non-baby related furniture and other objects from the room (especially that dangerous cadmium-based oil paint I use) in order to prepare for the arrival in August.
The fact that we are now a good 4 days into June really makes me want to get it done so it doesn't get left until the last minute. Let's face it, babies can be born early and I don't want to be the one running around and trying to get things ready when I'm totally exhausted with a baby in one arm. I mean... what would Squishy think? "Hey! You guys have had like 9 months to get my room ready! No respect!"
We have the basics except for the crib and a dresser. I've been working on doing some small art projects to make it look nicer in there. At the moment, the walls are plain and they need a lot of work. So, I am painting wooden frames (Got them for $0.66 each on sale at Michaels!) in matching colours to go around the room. I'm using craft paint by FolkArt in the colours Burnt Umber (462) and Soft Apple (526). They look really great together and match a lot of the colours we already have going on in there.
Also at Michaels, for about a dollar, I got three little plaster animals that I painted to decorate the room. There's an elephant and two monkeys. They are done now, so take a look!
Cute, right? The only thing I don't like is the look on the elephants face. He looks... too happy. Like he's planning something.
Colors Used (FolkArt again)
The fact that we are now a good 4 days into June really makes me want to get it done so it doesn't get left until the last minute. Let's face it, babies can be born early and I don't want to be the one running around and trying to get things ready when I'm totally exhausted with a baby in one arm. I mean... what would Squishy think? "Hey! You guys have had like 9 months to get my room ready! No respect!"
We have the basics except for the crib and a dresser. I've been working on doing some small art projects to make it look nicer in there. At the moment, the walls are plain and they need a lot of work. So, I am painting wooden frames (Got them for $0.66 each on sale at Michaels!) in matching colours to go around the room. I'm using craft paint by FolkArt in the colours Burnt Umber (462) and Soft Apple (526). They look really great together and match a lot of the colours we already have going on in there.
Also at Michaels, for about a dollar, I got three little plaster animals that I painted to decorate the room. There's an elephant and two monkeys. They are done now, so take a look!
Cute, right? The only thing I don't like is the look on the elephants face. He looks... too happy. Like he's planning something.
Colors Used (FolkArt again)
- 455 Medium Yellow
- 479 Pure Black
- 417 Teddy Bear Brown
- 987 Wicker White
- 526 Soft Apple
- 602 Country Twill
- 513 Cayman Blue
Wendy Facts: Why I Never Match My Socks (And Other Sock Oddities)
Nearly everybody who knows me comments on it at some point. Most think it's just quirky/funny but it has become somewhat of a trademark for me over the years. I've even got my younger sisters doing it now. It's true, I never match my socks. I really just don't see a point in doing-so. You might be wondering why I don't just have a bunch of socks that are exactly the same, so I wouldn't have to match them, and the answer to that is plain socks are boring! I like a little variety on my feet.
The way I see it, I'm actually saving money, time, and socks by not matching them. I save time by not having to match them up, which can eat up lots of time when you have as many socks as I do. Plus, it's just annoying to sit there and fold socks. I'd much rather be doing something else.
Not matching my socks saves socks and money because if I lose one of a pair, it doesn't make the entire pair useless. I've known people to throw away just one sock, because its partner either got a hole in it, or was lost. What a waste of a good sock! I have tons of "singles" that I still wear and love, even though their partner was lost long ago. I think it's cruel to tell a pair of socks that they are only useful when they're together. Would you tell twin humans that separately they are completely useless? I'm aware that it isn't even close to the same thing, but I said it anyway.
Since I don't match up my socks, there is no point in folding them so they all just get thrown in the one drawer. Each day, I fish out two randoms and put them on. It's easy. Occasionally, I have accidentally pulled out a matching pair, but even in that rare occurrence I throw back the matching offender and grab a different one. I'm hardcore like that.
All you sock-matchers will hate what I am going to say next even more. Heck, most people will hate what I am about to say next. "Okay not matching socks is one thing, but now you've gone too far" is a common response to this next statement on sock etiquette and fashion in general.
I wear socks with sandals. There. I said it, and I am not ashamed.
I don't like the feeling of bare feet. I prefer my non-matching socks, thank you. Hate all you want, but this is just how I roll.
 |
| Hanging on the couch with my non-matching socks |
Not matching my socks saves socks and money because if I lose one of a pair, it doesn't make the entire pair useless. I've known people to throw away just one sock, because its partner either got a hole in it, or was lost. What a waste of a good sock! I have tons of "singles" that I still wear and love, even though their partner was lost long ago. I think it's cruel to tell a pair of socks that they are only useful when they're together. Would you tell twin humans that separately they are completely useless? I'm aware that it isn't even close to the same thing, but I said it anyway.
Since I don't match up my socks, there is no point in folding them so they all just get thrown in the one drawer. Each day, I fish out two randoms and put them on. It's easy. Occasionally, I have accidentally pulled out a matching pair, but even in that rare occurrence I throw back the matching offender and grab a different one. I'm hardcore like that.
All you sock-matchers will hate what I am going to say next even more. Heck, most people will hate what I am about to say next. "Okay not matching socks is one thing, but now you've gone too far" is a common response to this next statement on sock etiquette and fashion in general.
I wear socks with sandals. There. I said it, and I am not ashamed.
I don't like the feeling of bare feet. I prefer my non-matching socks, thank you. Hate all you want, but this is just how I roll.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Pregnancy Fears
As I become closer and closer to the end of my pregnancy, I find that it is not the labour and birth that I fear, but the pregnancy itself. Truthfully I look forward to birth, and finally getting to meet this tiny human that my body has worked so hard to create. I have spent months avoiding things like Tylenol, certain foods, lifting things, alcohol (not that I drink much anyway) , and all of the other things you're not supposed to do when you're pregnant and I'm looking forward to finally seeing the end result. I know it's going to hurt more than anything has ever hurt in my life... but that pain will have a purpose and I'm not afraid of it.
What I'm afraid of are the simple things, like my belly button turning inside out. All of the things I never thought I'd care about, like weight gain or my ever-expanding butt, are what seem to be on my mind the most lately. I never considered myself a superficial person, but not even recognizing myself anymore is starting to get to me. The daily aches and pains are bad and it's getting difficult to even type on my laptop because my belly is in the way.
All of the fears and insecurities about my body that I have right now go away when I feel Squishy moving about inside my belly. It reminds me that all of these changes I'm going through are for a very good reason. All of the discomfort, the crossing off of things I used to be able to do but can't anymore, the limited mobility and the near-constant back pain and severe pelvic pain are all just my body's way of giving up a little bit of what was once mine in order to make room for this beautiful new life that Dave and I created. I'm sure I will spend my entire life making sacrifices for my little girl or boy, and this is just the beginning.
It's realizations like this that really keep me in a good place emotionally about this pregnancy. As hard as it can get sometimes, I think that each pregnancy is what you make of it. A lot of things I was expecting to be really bad haven't been, like hormonal outbursts of rage and/or weep-athons. My head has been in a pretty good place and I haven't been nearly as irrational or scary as I thought. I haven't even thrown anything at anyone. I've remained pretty laid back and calm and I think that is what will ultimately get me to the end without losing it. I am lucky enough to be with a man who has been and continues to be incredibly supportive throughout this process and that helps all the more.
Today begins the 32nd week of pregnancy which means we're in the home stretch. August 5th is coming up awfully soon (just 2 months away!) and I have a lot of decorating to do. Within the next few days I hope to post some pictures of some really pretty wooden frames I have been painting for the baby's room. I'm not entirely sure what photos I am going to be putting in the frames yet, but at least one of them is going to be an ultrasound photo and perhaps another one of my belly.
At 25 years old, and with two months to go in this pregnancy, I can say that for the most part I feel pretty ready to be a mother. For these last two months, I just want things to be calm and I just want to relax as much as possible so that I'm in my right mind when Squishy finally arrives.
 | ||
| Squishy at 20 Weeks (click to embiggen) |
All of the fears and insecurities about my body that I have right now go away when I feel Squishy moving about inside my belly. It reminds me that all of these changes I'm going through are for a very good reason. All of the discomfort, the crossing off of things I used to be able to do but can't anymore, the limited mobility and the near-constant back pain and severe pelvic pain are all just my body's way of giving up a little bit of what was once mine in order to make room for this beautiful new life that Dave and I created. I'm sure I will spend my entire life making sacrifices for my little girl or boy, and this is just the beginning.
 |
| Me at 30 Weeks (click to embiggen) |
Today begins the 32nd week of pregnancy which means we're in the home stretch. August 5th is coming up awfully soon (just 2 months away!) and I have a lot of decorating to do. Within the next few days I hope to post some pictures of some really pretty wooden frames I have been painting for the baby's room. I'm not entirely sure what photos I am going to be putting in the frames yet, but at least one of them is going to be an ultrasound photo and perhaps another one of my belly.
At 25 years old, and with two months to go in this pregnancy, I can say that for the most part I feel pretty ready to be a mother. For these last two months, I just want things to be calm and I just want to relax as much as possible so that I'm in my right mind when Squishy finally arrives.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Wendy Facts: I Am Nocturnal
To look at me, you'd think I'm just a regular girl with a regular job working regular hours, like other regular people. The time schedule that allows most people to work a 9-5 job no problem is near-impossible for me, though. It's been that way since I was a child, and got worse when I became a teenager. I have what is known as a circadian rhythm sleep disorder, specifically, Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder, which is essentially a disorder in the timing of sleep. It's not insomnia, because I can sleep a consistent schedule of 8 hours a night (day?), just not at the times when most people are tired. My brain is at its most active between about midnight and 4 in the morning.
So, what does this mean? Well, my schedule generally works quite well for me when I go to sleep at 7AM and wake up at around 3PM (sometimes later since I need more sleep being pregnant). I then wake up, cook supper for Dave and myself when he gets home from work, and then stay up until 7AM again. I do my work when Dave goes to sleep, at around midnight.
All my life I was told "Just go to bed earlier!", but I became confused when this never worked. I would try going to bed at 10pm on a school night, only to lay there unable to sleep until 2-3 in the morning at the very earliest. I didn't mean to sleep in through school, but I couldn't help it. I was lucky that missing so many classes didn't affect my grades negatively.
I remember my Mom telling me "When you graduate you'll have to find a job and you'll have to wake up early!". After desperate searching I was able to prove her wrong with my Startek call center job, where I worked from 3:30PM until midnight 5 days a week. It. Was. Awesome! For the first time I was getting a normal (normal for me) sleep schedule that was comfortable and workable. When I quit to work at Staples call center almost 4 years later, things were bad. The shift was much earlier and as a result I had 83 lates on record my first year there. I should have been fired, but luckily my supervisor was understanding about my situation and I stayed there for another 2 or 3 years before I quit. Now, I work from home and I'm able to work whatever hours I want to work.
What kind of work could I possibly do in those hours? Not many people know or understand what I do now, so I'll explain it. Basically, I write articles. They are generally short marketing articles that are intended to promote specific products by driving traffic and inciting a person to make a purchase. I never deal directly with the purchaser of articles (the end customer) and deal with only one person, who sends me article assignments which I complete and email back to her. That's it! I like it because I can do it from anywhere, the pay is decent, and I can work my own hours and take time off whenever I want. This will be perfect when the baby comes.
Are there downsides to having Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder? You bet! It sucks not being able to trust myself to wake up on time for appointments, so more often than not I simply pull an all-nighter (not go to sleep at all) and then go to sleep after the appointment. I get angry at myself for sleeping late in the day and I get angry at myself for all of the things I've missed because I slept through them. It becomes incredibly frustrating when I try to change my sleep schedule (not even possible as I found out) and continuously fail or become sleep deprived in the process. I am sometimes able to go a few months forcing myself onto a more "normal" schedule by taking high doses of melatonin to knock myself out, but because it doesn't end up being natural sleep I end up a zombie after the first few weeks.
Another down side to being nocturnal is that it can be a lonely life. I miss out on a lot of things that I think most people take for granted. I miss out on a lot of human interaction, and because of it I've become a fearful person by nature, I think. Although, I'm naturally a social-phobic loner, so maybe it's better this way...
So, what does this mean? Well, my schedule generally works quite well for me when I go to sleep at 7AM and wake up at around 3PM (sometimes later since I need more sleep being pregnant). I then wake up, cook supper for Dave and myself when he gets home from work, and then stay up until 7AM again. I do my work when Dave goes to sleep, at around midnight.
All my life I was told "Just go to bed earlier!", but I became confused when this never worked. I would try going to bed at 10pm on a school night, only to lay there unable to sleep until 2-3 in the morning at the very earliest. I didn't mean to sleep in through school, but I couldn't help it. I was lucky that missing so many classes didn't affect my grades negatively.
I remember my Mom telling me "When you graduate you'll have to find a job and you'll have to wake up early!". After desperate searching I was able to prove her wrong with my Startek call center job, where I worked from 3:30PM until midnight 5 days a week. It. Was. Awesome! For the first time I was getting a normal (normal for me) sleep schedule that was comfortable and workable. When I quit to work at Staples call center almost 4 years later, things were bad. The shift was much earlier and as a result I had 83 lates on record my first year there. I should have been fired, but luckily my supervisor was understanding about my situation and I stayed there for another 2 or 3 years before I quit. Now, I work from home and I'm able to work whatever hours I want to work.
What kind of work could I possibly do in those hours? Not many people know or understand what I do now, so I'll explain it. Basically, I write articles. They are generally short marketing articles that are intended to promote specific products by driving traffic and inciting a person to make a purchase. I never deal directly with the purchaser of articles (the end customer) and deal with only one person, who sends me article assignments which I complete and email back to her. That's it! I like it because I can do it from anywhere, the pay is decent, and I can work my own hours and take time off whenever I want. This will be perfect when the baby comes.
Are there downsides to having Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder? You bet! It sucks not being able to trust myself to wake up on time for appointments, so more often than not I simply pull an all-nighter (not go to sleep at all) and then go to sleep after the appointment. I get angry at myself for sleeping late in the day and I get angry at myself for all of the things I've missed because I slept through them. It becomes incredibly frustrating when I try to change my sleep schedule (not even possible as I found out) and continuously fail or become sleep deprived in the process. I am sometimes able to go a few months forcing myself onto a more "normal" schedule by taking high doses of melatonin to knock myself out, but because it doesn't end up being natural sleep I end up a zombie after the first few weeks.
Another down side to being nocturnal is that it can be a lonely life. I miss out on a lot of things that I think most people take for granted. I miss out on a lot of human interaction, and because of it I've become a fearful person by nature, I think. Although, I'm naturally a social-phobic loner, so maybe it's better this way...
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Dear Juno, (Why Candy is Not for Dogs)
My constant companion, my dog, my little girl. I enjoy the majority of our moments together. The way you lick the tip of my nose and constantly look to me for approval is both charming and flattering. When you follow me around (even to the bathroom), I feel like a celebrity with at least one adoring fan. Your love for me is like an obsession and every once in a while, although I enjoy the attention, I wish you would get a hobby. Perhaps that is why I only half-accidentally gave you that gummy candy to keep you occupied for a little while.
Now, I realize that you are not the smartest dog on the planet. In fact, your breed, although graceful looking, is actually ranked quite low on the intelligence scale... no offense. But, being that you are a Chinese Crested, I thought that you would have a little more class than to do what you did with that candy. The actions you performed with that candy, none of which were eating it, were things that I thought only a bull dog was capable of. Not you, my sweet and elegant Juno.
Did I do something to upset you? Is this some sort of payback for the haircut I gave you on Saturday? I know you liked your hair long, but this is better for the warmer weather coming, I swear! Was it because I have been referring to you as an "alien dog" since your haircut? I promise I've been laughing with you, not at you.
At first, I thought it was cute that you were throwing the candy around on the floor, and "attacking" it as if it were some sweet, sugary prey. I giggled as I watched you toss it around, occasionally glancing back at me as if you knew exactly what you were doing in making me laugh. I just thought you were doing what you normally do with treats, by playing with it before you eat it.
I guess you weren't hungry. Or maybe, as I should have known already, dogs should not have candy. You must have been aware of this rule too, because it wasn't long before I heard the familiar sound of you "burying" your treasure out of sight. To be honest, I thought nothing of it until you jumped up on the couch beside me, staring at me with those big dumb eyes of yours.
A sudden realization hit me when I saw that you had grown a beard made of dust. You must have thought to bury your treat in some dusty corner of the room that I haven't cleaned in a while. In doing so, the stickiness of the candy had fused dust to your chin. Sure, it could all have been just a silly accident and a lesson in dog ownership for me... but I think you did it on purpose.
Oh yes... I read you loud and clear dog. You're mad because I gave you a hair cut so you used this opportunity to stick as much stuff to your face as possible to prove a point. Joke's on you though Juno. I should just leave you like that. See how much stuff gets stuck to you before you admit that maybe a haircut is a good idea once in a while.
Oh, who am I kidding? I will wash your face, laugh it off and you'll fall asleep beside me a few hours from now. I guess there comes a time in every relationship where you just have to laugh something like this off. I still love you Juno, even though you drive me crazy sometimes and leave me wondering about your mental health.
Love, Wendy
P.S. I found where you left that candy. The base of a lamp? Really? That isn't even a good hiding place. It took me literally no effort to find it. At least it's better than the time you hid the pizza crust on a book shelf.
Now, I realize that you are not the smartest dog on the planet. In fact, your breed, although graceful looking, is actually ranked quite low on the intelligence scale... no offense. But, being that you are a Chinese Crested, I thought that you would have a little more class than to do what you did with that candy. The actions you performed with that candy, none of which were eating it, were things that I thought only a bull dog was capable of. Not you, my sweet and elegant Juno.
Did I do something to upset you? Is this some sort of payback for the haircut I gave you on Saturday? I know you liked your hair long, but this is better for the warmer weather coming, I swear! Was it because I have been referring to you as an "alien dog" since your haircut? I promise I've been laughing with you, not at you.
At first, I thought it was cute that you were throwing the candy around on the floor, and "attacking" it as if it were some sweet, sugary prey. I giggled as I watched you toss it around, occasionally glancing back at me as if you knew exactly what you were doing in making me laugh. I just thought you were doing what you normally do with treats, by playing with it before you eat it.
I guess you weren't hungry. Or maybe, as I should have known already, dogs should not have candy. You must have been aware of this rule too, because it wasn't long before I heard the familiar sound of you "burying" your treasure out of sight. To be honest, I thought nothing of it until you jumped up on the couch beside me, staring at me with those big dumb eyes of yours.
A sudden realization hit me when I saw that you had grown a beard made of dust. You must have thought to bury your treat in some dusty corner of the room that I haven't cleaned in a while. In doing so, the stickiness of the candy had fused dust to your chin. Sure, it could all have been just a silly accident and a lesson in dog ownership for me... but I think you did it on purpose.
Oh yes... I read you loud and clear dog. You're mad because I gave you a hair cut so you used this opportunity to stick as much stuff to your face as possible to prove a point. Joke's on you though Juno. I should just leave you like that. See how much stuff gets stuck to you before you admit that maybe a haircut is a good idea once in a while.
Oh, who am I kidding? I will wash your face, laugh it off and you'll fall asleep beside me a few hours from now. I guess there comes a time in every relationship where you just have to laugh something like this off. I still love you Juno, even though you drive me crazy sometimes and leave me wondering about your mental health.
Love, Wendy
P.S. I found where you left that candy. The base of a lamp? Really? That isn't even a good hiding place. It took me literally no effort to find it. At least it's better than the time you hid the pizza crust on a book shelf.
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