A Smattering: Morning Topics & A Cup of Joe

I have a cup of coffee left, and I’m willing to ignore it for your sake. I don’t really know what to write about specifically, as my mind is kind of  the proverbial whirlwind. Let’s just have a potpourri session, shall we, with a little here and there?


I’ve behaved for two days now and averted going off track this morning with a last-minute veto on my plan to go out for breakfast. I’m not in a world of hurt despite some pretty intense routines (albeit not long ones) in the last few days, but that’s only ‘cos I’m hydrating super-duper good.

But it’s amazing how quickly you can feel good about yourself when you just stick to the plan. Besides, I have a lot of accomplishment to draw on for strength, remembrances of what I’ve gotten done so far and what it took to battle through some of those things, and how, really, what I’m going through these days is a piece of cake compared to a year ago today, two years ago today, or even three.

I’m in such an amazing place compared to all I’ve come through. Remembering that makes silly things like overcoming the denial of that oh-so-sexy piece of [growl] dark chocolate over there.

The exercising, though, is key, and not just because you accomplish something or burn calories, but because it’s easier to remember what you’re TRYING to accomplish when there’s that ever-present feeling of tight muscles or fatigue from a long physical day. Reminders are good. It’s helping me.

Focus was hard, but it’s coming back. I’m remembering to be accountable.


It’s Remembrance Day. I’m Canadian, that’s what we call it. Yankees think of it as Vets’ Day.

I’m one of those anti-war types these days. I still sort of think Afghanistan makes some sense, being there, but I’m a realist… they’re the hardest army in the world to defeat. They made Russia their bitches. Who’s kidding who?

And I hate what war does to us as a people, the prices we pay, the prices THEY pay.

But the idea of all it takes to make those sacrifices, to be the men & women that Aaron Sorkin describes as standing on a wall, saying “Not on my watch,” well, I’m not that girl, and I’m so grateful they are. War, as much as I despise it, is necessary. It’s stupid, it’s merciless, it’s executed by asshats, but it’s necessary.

We go wrong as a society, but that’s because we get too many cooks in the kitchen. Most of us, at heart, we’re good. The instincts and motivations that make many volunteers enlist, they come from the right place.

And then the cooks enter the kitchen and everything gets all fucked up. Welcome to the world.

But, the watchers, the fighters, the low troops on the battlefield, I thank you, I remember those before you, and I pray we do something to make no more come after you.


I’ve had a strange week with readers, followers, friends. Mostly readers, though, since a few instances of the same sort of thing has come up with a few people. Was there a moon phase I missed?

I find that one of my major problems with my writing is the open and conversational tone I take. Because I’m the gregarious everywoman who’s all in your face and open as hell, people kind of make the assumption I’m everyone’s buddy. And that’s where it gets complicated.

I can like people and relate to them, but not necessarily love interacting with them at length. I’m not a small-talk girl. If you’re going to talk to me, say something, but if it’s small talk about the weather or the hockey team, well, good luck with that. But also, don’t think you’re wrangling me into your existential dramas, either, as exciting as they may be, ‘cos I’m still navigating all my own.

This whole late-diagnosis-ADD thing is still new to me (diagnosed in May). I’m realizing it probably makes me the writer I am. It makes me the photographer and observer I am. I’m always on the watch for weird.

But it also affects my relationships, and I’m still learning how. I tune out of longwinded explanations, I hate the small-talk, I’d rather jump the “how was your day” shit and move into some topic that isn’t just a repeat of Things Said Before.

So when it comes to people just trying to banter shit with me on Twitter or whatever, I don’t get involved in it at all, and an excess of it turns me off because I start feeling like they’re just another obligation I’m having trouble juggling.

But my writing style and my open nature make it as though people feel they’re already my friend. Um, no, you just have a fly’s eye-view on my world… in the perspective that I create and craft for your enjoyment. “Friendship” needs to go both ways — I need to want to hear from you, have you around, trust you, be engaged — and the trouble there is, I’m a largely antisocial person, and I have too many people now who want to be buddies. I’m being choosy, but it’s hard. And when they seem to feel entitled to my time, well, it’s more complicated.

It’s bad enough it happens in real life enough, but online it’s getting out of control some days. At least I’m good at setting boundaries, but wish I didn’t have to do so as often as I do. I wish it could be more of a judicious sieve than a boundary — letting some in, but keeping the right stuff out… I like people. Just in very small amounts.

Not these conundrums will be changing my approach to writing, though. It is what it is, and I’m tough enough to keep setting boundaries.

And that presents a whole ‘nother conundrum I don’t even want to go into today. Fucking head-shrinkery, that.


It’s hard to believe there’s four more months of winter. Sometimes, being a Canadian is hard.

I don’t like this winter thing.

Today, though: Beautiful.

And now I venture into it, a few more thoughts dusted out of my crowded, cluttered brain. Have an excellent day.

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