Oral Hijinx

Dr. Shanklin, my dentist (while working on my teeth:) You're watching me work through the reflection in my glasses...

Becky: *mmmhhhhmmmm*

Dr. Shanklin: I used to think all the young girls were looking deep into my eyes while I worked on their teeth. Then I realized that all the old guys were doing the same thing.

Becky: *mmahahahahahamm*

I want to be James Franco

It's funny how something I myself wrote is therapy enough. I can make myself happy. That's what my blog is telling me. So now that I have feelings of despair, and humility I have to remember that it's me myself and I, thats all I got in the end.

I went to the dentist today and that made me happy. I got two fillings done, and was told that eventually a few of my other fillings would have to be replaced. It was a lot cheaper than expected, and for the first time in a long time someone told me something about my health that I felt like I could trust, and I was doing something good to take care of myself. This is an important feeling for me. It is a reminder that I have some sort of desire for self preservation.

I've been intent on writing about James Franco. He's everywhere lately. It's fantastic. Soap Operas, 30 Rock, SNL, he's just putting himself out there, and he doesn't care what you think of the medium he's using. It's important to see him having fun doing all of this. It's a good lesson to us all that we shouldn't take ourselves too seriously. I mean it wasn't even a year ago that I watched him in Milk and was blown away by the seriousness and tone of what he brought to such an important role. I think back to the series finale of Freaks and Geeks where he plays D&D with the geeks and his Dwarf Carlos helps win the game. That scene was just a glimpse of how strange, and interesting, and versatile that this pretty boy could be. Not everyone likes him, I know, but damn, it's hard not to respect him right now.

The Word "Deadline" isn't real, except if you're really dead

I have 15 minutes to write something down.

This weekend was a failure in food. In fact, since I wrote the last entry I haven't had much success with food at all (read: A lot of chocolate at work, 2nd plate of buffet appetizers at wedding, mini donuts.) But I have had major success with working out. In fact today was the only day in which I did not tie on those pesky running shoes. I intend to tie them on tomorrow as well.

I was introduced to a wonderful new TV series by my favorite TV Diva Renita Jenkins today. It's a british comedy about a woman who is finding her way after the death of her husband. Clatterford is subdued yet hilarious and engaging. After spending the whole weekend with some of my favorite girl friends, I thought of something Stephanie once said to me about The Golden Girls. She said "I like to think that when we get old, it's like The Golden Girls, and you live with some of your best girl friends and you still get to go on adventures, and laugh together, and have fun." I hear that women last longer than men, so God willing.

I went to a beautiful wedding on Saturday and had little tears of jealousy that it wasn't my own; just tiny ones. At the same time I danced, and wore a dress like a glove, and had my hair blown out and felt pretty well...pretty! And as I was in my car later I smiled about how easy it is to make myself happy. Not only can I do this, but I AM DOING IT right now. Smiling. Listening to music. Wearing my nice hat every day.

Burn your nice candles, and use your nice soap because eventually they get dusty and dirty, and are purposeless, and to waste if you don't.

4 minutes left.

Salt and Pepper

I began to read someone else's blog and was so bored, it made me realize that what I really wanted to be doing was writing my own. Hello 2010.

So after the holidays I wanted to bog down and start getting in shape. I am unfit. My clothing is tight. I am displeased with the way I look in real life and in pictures. I am unsatisfied with my self. I was hoping the tides would turn after the clock struck midnight, and it was good so far, until I fell down with The Plague. The night before I fell ill I managed to clean the bins in my closet that I wanted to, and I stayed in on a Friday night, not forcing my self out and about. But Saturday came and I hadn't been that sick in a long while. All exercise was out the window. My ability to function existed solely to get me to work and to home. I was good, and I didn't eat too poorly, and resting helped me get better quicker, I think.

Now, today, I had my great return to the gym. And it felt like a failure, though any time you get into the gym should be counted as a success, because today my knee really hurt after only 15 minutes of running. Discouraging. When did this happen and what can I do about it? I'm going to find a knee brace and keep running. It seems to plateau with pain, and then it's just a matter of endurance. But there was a point in time where I could run for 3 hours and not bat an eyelash. 15 minutes shouldn't feel like death.

Anyhoo, I'm thinking the following things have to happen to get me into shape.

1. NO MORE SNACKING AT WORK - I do this constantly. In fact tonight someone had an open bag of salt and pepper chips and I had several handfuls. And I can't be in denial about all of this snacking either. FESS UP TO SNACKING AT WORK.

2. CONTINUE AN EXERCISE REGIME - Especially on the weekends. I had stopped attending Weekend Runs because this job has been so taxing on my inner clock. But a Saturday nap post run is better than just waking up and not having worked out at all. I hope to also get back into Yoga, hiking, and keep up with ice skating. BE ACTIVE.

3. LAY OFF THE BINGE EATING ON THE WEEKENDS - I eat pretty well during the week but on the weekends it's become a free for all. A 3000 calorie day on a Saturday doesn't help anyone look better.

4. FEEL GOOD ABOUT IT - if I don't feel good about the process I'm not going to keep it up.

5. DRINK LESS - yeah less beer, less fruity drinks. Simple.

The thing is, I feel like I've done all these things, over and over and over again. And my life gets so busy with doing all these things to take care of myself and I can't remember what "me time" is. And then when suddenly I take "me time" and "french fry time" all my work is ruined. It's a life long battle, isn't it?

Resolve and Be a Man

My resolution this year is to make a cheesecake. And to consolidate my makeup bins to make more room in my closet for the crap I've accumulated. I'm going to keep the resolution I made last year, as I believe resolutions should really be ongoing until you've managed perfection, and we all know that perfection is unattainable. I do believe I could make a perfect cheesecake. I'm thinking a white chocolate raspberry cheesecake.

I had a good day yesterday. I cried a hearty cry, the kind where you're afraid you won't be able to stop. Videotape by Radiohead came on the stereo and I was in deep thought, thinking of my mothers friend Damien. He passed away in October. He had diabetes and had stubbed his toe, I think. His injury was mistreated and to make a long story short, he passed away unexpectedly. I thought of my mother, how this man was her dear friend, and a date, and sometimes companion, and how she might have felt like this man was going to be there for her, a new love, and how fleeting life is. I know what a broken heart feels like, and how hopeless it can seem, but how much worse it must feel when neither person is responsible for the loss. It makes me scared to try and love someone new. It makes me afraid that love isn't even out there.

I hate to admit it, but I don't know what to do next.

A beautiful and mysterious lady

My knee hurts. It hurts more than I'd like it to for someone who got back to the gym after a week of neglect. I cannot at all confidently state that I was on my best eating behavior during the week I was away for the holidays. I felt weighty going into it and now I can, at best, describe myself as "Holiday Husky." But it seems a superficial purpose has come along to motivate me into wanting to drop the weight. Frankly, it's not so much dropping weight, as feeling good about how I look, and right now I am not a fan. Onto the blog...

My brother just texted me to let me know that the house in Ottawa felt quiet again, now that I had left to come back to California. It's a strange moment when I'm standing in the airport. I cry because I'm sad to leave these people I love so much, yet there's a feeling of home awaiting me on the other side of my journey. Sad to leave home to go home. And I think of the home I live in here. It's quiet, I rarely play music and tend to sit on the internet for far too long, chatting and just, looking. When in Ottawa we all have time to sit and chat, and watch movies, and play games, and make houses into homes.

I'm at work, and I'm 29 years old, and I'm sitting at a desk wearing a striped purple long sleeved shirt under a t-shirt that has a picture of a cartoon robot. I wonder if that's what past me envisioned as future me? I doubt it. Thinking of this version of me, paired with the comfort I got from going home this past Christmas, I remind myself that you can only go home for so long before you have to come back and face the day to day routine that is, as Prince put it, "this thing called 'life.'" I don't like it much, sometimes, being a grownup, and that's probably why I'm wearing a shirt that has a picture of a cartoon robot on it. And sometimes I don't understand what this whole "growing up" thing even means. But it's happening and accepting it is too. I understand that everyone does it differently, but that one day it's just that. You look around, and you and your relatives, the people you've seen pass through time, all have grey hairs, and hard lines, and that's it: You're a grown up.

I think I'm going to wear a dress with polka dots on it for NYE this year, and maybe some pink tights.

A Promise...

to myself mostly.

I was just listening to my favorite podcast, This American Life. This weeks podcast was #342 How to Rest in Peace. I've thought a lot about my mortality and I'm happy to say that I've accepted that I will die, and I hope to do it peacefully, many many years from now. That's what I learned in 2009. Feelings don't change: happy will feel how it always feels, sad will feel how it always feels, and I will experience these things through my life, time and time again, reminding me what it is we live for, and I hope that life is long, but there will be an end, and when that end comes, I'll know I'll have felt it all to the best of my abilities.

BUT until that time I'm making a promise to myself that I will try harder to document it("blog" it) so that I can remember what it's like to be on this rollercoaster. This was a failed year in blogging, going stretches of two months at a time without an entry, and that is hardly enough to piece together the story of the fabulous Becky Mair.

Happy Holidays.