Tag Archives: confession


I’m going to try to write this before I lose my nerve.

No big confessions… but I am going to publicly announce a goal, which I’m not a big fan of doing.

Why? Because then I will feel like an absolute asshole if I don’t stick with it.

I have made public announcements on resolutions/goals before, with mixed results.

While still in university, I called off eating McDonald’s for a year. Doing that now would be so easy… I don’t even remember the last time I ate it. It’s been ages. But during uni? Easily twice or more a week. It was cheap and it was fast and I swear it is addictive.

So I called it off and announced that I was doing so. And I did it for the entire year. I had nightmares during the year, now and again, about breaking the resolution, but I never actually broke it. I did have a Big Mac on the first of January as soon as the year was up, but I made the year.

But last year I publicly announced that I wasn’t going to drink for the year. And I made it until April before I decided to completely eschew from drinking was ridiculous. Somewhat hilariously, when I started again no one said a word. It was strange that I stopped… no one thought twice when I started again.

But this year… this is a big one (no pun intended) that I’ve tried and failed again and again. I’ve never shared about these struggles… I mean, people can *see* that I struggle with it, but they don’t know how much. Okay. This was the disclaimer post about my fears around sharing this. The next one will be the share.

raR. Here’s hoping being public will help me stick with it this time.

Mild Gymnophobia

>I wouldn’t necessarily call myself body shy, but I am certainly body conscious. Always having been the chubby kid, it comes with the territory.

I’m not as bad as I used to be. When I was a kid, I was capable of changing for gym without a showing a single piece of flesh. But did I win a first place ribbon for THAT bit of gymnastics? Did I bullocks. Life’s not fair when you are twelve.

Eventually I grew out of that and became slightly more open but still body cautious in public. I liked gyms with changing cubicles. If they didn’t have them, I would perform similar strip gymnastics as when I was twelve, but now I had a towel to protect me. Shit, I used to use the pool for 12 seconds just so I had a reason to shower in my swimsuit without anyone thinking I was a fucking weird-ass never-nude or something.


In looking for that picture of Tobias Fünke from Arrested Development in his cutoffs… I found out that the fear of being nude is called Gymnophobia. THANK YOU WIKIPEDIA. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.


And then Korea happened.

In Korea, ladies in gym locker rooms / showers and the saunas walk around naked bold as jays. It is pretty unnerving at first, but then you just sort of roll with it. Just read the “too much skin” portion of this post and you’ll get what I mean. I even had a small child once – and the children in Korea will laugh if your shirt rides up a wee bit in the back whilst you write on the board – come up to me in the gym (she swam there) locker room once while we were both completely starkers and say, “Jodi Teacher! You want an orange?” and then proceeded to hand me an orange.

I got over being nude in front of strangers pretty quickly over there.

Ah, but that is the key “in front of strangers”. I’m still a little shy about stripping down in front of people who know me. I don’t know why I think it is worse that someone I see all the time may notice you can’t see my abdominals under all that insulation… I’m pretty sure I don’t look any skinner with my kit on.

And what’s the point of this post? Well, at the gym I go to now, the lady who works in the spa there also trains at the gym. Often around the time I do. And she was in there at the same time as me today and I was feeling a little blushy (new word alert) about changing with her right there.

The point of this post: I’m a retard. This is the same spa lady who pulls hair out of my Lady Vagaga with hot wax and I’m worried she might have a look at my back fat? Seriously? HUGE ridiculousness right there, boys and girls. Huge.

>What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.


I’m partially writing this post out of guilt. Even though, I must confess, that I’ve drank enough beer tonight that I can’t promise that this won’t be full of spelling mistakes and mis-directed ramblings.

Back to the guilt.

I spoke with my moms yesterday. Those who know me, know that my moms is the most important person in my life. Now, this is very uncool, but I don’t have a landline so my moms can’t call me. It is like Korea all over again, yo. But I’ve been cool about calling her. This week when I spoke with her she reminded me about something… I’ve not been blogging.

Apparently my mother, who used to be the coolest mother in the universe, has taken it upon herself to quit Facebook. I KNOW! Who does that? Only my moms. So she’s not privy to all the exciting stuff that has been working its way into my status updates (like my fight with the wardrobe, not to be missed on my Twitter posts).

So, I was talking to my moms last night and she said, “You’ve been neglecting the new blog lately, eh?”

I fear she is right. She’s a mother. The chances are… she is always right. Damn it!

I have been neglecting the blog. I want to update, but I don’t know how to. Life seems to be in limbo at the moment and that doesn’t lead to very exciting stories.

Tonight I went to a gig. Fairly middle of the road. I would have to say what made it most interesting was this: I went to see MONO… a Japanese ambient rock quartet in London as a Canadian with a South African friend. Strangeness.

Stranger still, we had a fairly important conversation (in my opinion) between sets. He mentioned that I have not been home, and that I should go home at some point because I would, at that point, see how things are different because of where I have gone. I may be paraphrasing.

I admitted to something that I don’t think I’ve told anyone else… but now that I’ve let it slip to one person I might as well tell (potentially) the entire world. You know why I haven’t been home? I’m afraid to go home.

Part of the reason for that is entirely shallow, the other is hard to pinpoint. Let’s start with the shallow bit before we tread deeper waters, shall we?

One reason why I’m not in a hurry to head home is this fear that no one will care that I *am* home. If I came home for a couple of weeks (say, for Pam’s wedding next winter), I worry that I’ll send out the word and no one will be able to shift appointments/work/whatever to see me for the limited time that I would be there. “Were you ever gone?” they’d yawn, even though I’d been missing for more than four years at that point.

I know. I KNOW. I know how shallow that is. I shouldn’t have to define who I am by how much I am/would be missed. But part of me can’t help it. I need to be missed. I need to know that I matter to people and that they would be sad if they found out that they could never see me again they would be absolutely devastated. And I’m scared that if I went home I would find out that wasn’t the case. So, yah. That’s the first bit.

The other part is… well. This part is different. Tyran mentioned (he would be my partner in crime during this school night out-and-about and the one who got me thinking about such things) that when you go home you notice that everyone just has continued in their lives, along the paths that you saw them on the last time you saw them. And that now you are someone different. (Or something along those lines…. a. I’m drunk b. I feel that I can take literary liberties when necessary to make my point.)

So, there lies my second fear. Yup. I stepped outside the path I was on. I fucked off to Korea on a whim and didn’t tell too many people. Ended up there for two years. After that, I decided that I needed to move on and instead of moving back to Canader (still the best country in the world, by far) I decide to live in London, England. Why? Because I could.

And am I better off? Am I really doing something else?

I don’t know.

I’m still just going to work in an office every day. I work anonymously in a big city where what I do doesn’t really make a difference. I may have changed here and there but not so much that I’ve rendered myself unrecognisable.

I work. I eat. I… whatever. Wherever you are… whoever you are reading this (if anyone is still reading this drivel), I’m sure your life isn’t all that much different than mine. In fact, you may be more fulfilled and whatever than I am. More… something. I dunno.

And I don’t know why, but this made me think of two very different people. Two girls that I have a lot of respect for. Because they kick ass. Because they helped me form who I am. Because they have both walked a different path than me even though at one point we were close enough that I even lived with each of them (although not at the same time). One, like me, moved far away from home. The other stayed in Canada. And… and I dunno. Again. I dunno. But tonight this train of thought let me to each of them and I want them to know it.

So, tonight I thought about two girls that have meant an awful lot to me (even though I may be shite about showing it). They meant a lot in the day, and whether they know it or not, they mean a lot now.

When I mentioned on Facebook that I was going to see Girl Talk, both of them commented. Obviously, both of them listen to this particular DJ. And I was thinking of them tonight… thinking about paths… and thinking about how it doesn’t matter where you are… because wherever you are… there you are.

My life in London is not more glamorous and exciting than anyone else’s life. Tonight I was once again surprised at how comfortable I was getting on the train from King’s Cross to Old Street, and then walking (music pumping on my iPhone “mug me” earphones) from Old Street to Hoxton Street (through N1, not London’s nicest borough). This is life. I live in London and it isn’t any better or worse than living anywhere else. It just is.

And because I want to give props to the girls I thought of tonight… Andrea…. I’m so freaking happy for you. I love your blog – it shows the extent of your wit and intelligence and I miss you more than I could ever say. And Heather… you were the only one who got the Radiohead lyric that I was feeling right, and you got it right way. I miss you too, and I can’t wait to see you in May.

Sometimes I feel very lonely here, even though I’ve made some absolutely kick-ass friends. Because it isn’t home. And although I miss home, I’m afraid to go there because I worry (hopefully unnecessarily) about how I may not be missed as much as I miss it sometimes. I think about Korea, and the amazing people I met there.

Where’s this entry going? Absolutely fucking nowhere. I just… I just don’t know. I’m so uncertain right now about where I am and where I might be going that I just… don’t know. But in the meantime, I hope to make the most of it and kick some ass. Because I have a funny feeling that in the end that is all we really have in life at the end of the day. It doesn’t matter where you are… all that matters is that you made the most out of what life handed to you.

>Yup, that’s pretty much how I remember it too

>I’ve seen Star Wars. All of them. I’m sure of it. But for some reason, I have trouble keeping the story straight in my head and remembering all the details (might have something to do with how delayed I am). So if I was forced at gunpoint to reconstruct the original trilogy, I hate to confess it would sound pretty much like this.

I probably shouldn’t confess to such a thing. Makes me less of a nerd than I like to pretend to be. The video above, however, is very very funny and kudos to the people who made it.

>Got to admit… this got to me…


I am so sad, because I want
to see you so much….♡
Where are you?
Do you have a nice day?
I have a “Song Book”.
I didn’t lost it yet…♡
I to cry…….

>Vacations rule

>I’m surprised at how quickly 2008 is passing when I consider that I went through eight months without taking any vacation.

I won’t do that next year.

By the time I was ready for holidays, I was not in a very good mood anymore. I mean, granted, I had already quit my job once but if I didn’t have this last month off work I think I would have quit again. And now it is Tuesday and the temptation to walk is already growing. I can’t wait for Christmas.

First, to complain about work. Things aren’t changing around here as quickly as I would like, but I’m not going to give up quite yet. I’m definitely going to give it until after the Christmas holidays. I figure that way, if nothing else, I have a year’s employment at one company in the UK on my CV. Can’t hurt, can it? Although I may go crazy in the meanwhile and slaughter everyone I work with, but hey! It is worth that risk.

As some people know, my moms was here in London for the duration of my holidays. And we stayed in London. And it was lovely.

I hadn’t seen my moms in three years, and just before she got here I mentioned to her that it didn’t actually feel like that long. And it didn’t. I mean, after a certain amount of time, it is just time. But I tells ya… those last few hours, waiting at Gatwick for her to arrive… that felt like an eternity! I was so excited when she finally came through the gate.

Before you even think to ask: No. I didn’t cry. Neither did she. But we were both freaking excited.

I’m not going to go into detail about the three weeks. We did a lot of the touristy things in London, and a lot of non-touristy things. We went on long walks every day and chatted about things. It was very relaxing and I’m happy that I could finally share some of my travel experiences with my mommy.

I don’t know when I’ll make it back to Canada… but I do know that I don’t want another three flipping years to go by without a mommy-fix. People, it is far to long to go without seeing your family.


I’ve decided to give Twitter a try, even though I’m not entirely sure if I need yet another space on the internet where I can stay connect and/or let people know what I’m doing. I mean, really. I can’t even keep up with my blog.

If you don’t know what it is… check it out. I like that you only have 140 characters to explain yourself in. I don’t know how often I’ll get around to updating it – I suppose it will depend how much free time I have a work and/or if I break down and finally get an iPhone. That’s right. An iPhone. I’m trying not to, but I’m weak. And they look so freaking yummy…

Original Comments:

Carey wrote (on 20/08/08):

~~~~you must buy an iPhone~~~~

>Photodiculous phacebook

>I don’t understand why there are so many pictures of me on Facebook, when I really don’t like to have my picture taken. And I do understand that I can untag them if I want… and it is tempting at times (there are many, many unflattering pictures). But unless it was so bad that it made me cry, I don’t think I would untag it. Just because a picture isn’t flattering, it doesn’t mean that it is an inaccurate portrayal of how I look right now. Mostly I get bunged up about photos only because I hate how chubby I’ve been looking in them lately… but damn it! I am chubby lately. If I want to stop looking chubby in pictures, I should get my ass exercising and eat better, not untag a bunch of photos that are not exactly pretty. Now that I’m thinking about it… I’m pretty sure I’ve always been chubby. Hmmm… must find some way of dealing with that that doesn’t involve eating healthy and/or exercise. Where is that magic pill I’ve been waiting for??


>I decided to cut my own hair today. I should have practiced on my Barbie more when I was young.

Original Comments:

Carey wrote (on 01/05/08):
Were you drunk? I don’t recommend cutting your own hair when you are drunk. Not that I know anything about that.

Jodi-Wan Kenobi wrote (on 08/05/08):
I wasn’t drunk, but it was before work and I *was* cranky. Stupid growing-out-hair! Be less stupid!!