After my previous post, I promise to write something terribly opinionated soon… I’m sure with a week’s worth of commuter traffic, and idiots among us, that I can come up with something. 🙂
Stay tuned for less soppiness…. 🙂
My apologies for my absence and silence… I’ve been having a very difficult time lately. Being bitchy and sarcastic is so second nature, and I’ve not been able to create a post worthy of my reputation… That is a very unusual state for me to be in.
2015 has turned into quite the year, thus far. To recap on 2014 (we won’t even go into 2013, that was way too bloody) I spent all but 2 1/2 months of it unemployed. Those 2 1/2 months were fantastic, I was doing the job of my dreams; I was researching history, death, funerals and all the things that I hold dear. But alas, I was screwed about by dishonest people. I applied for 307 jobs between mid-June and Christmas, with nary a call-back. It was not a good year. With Employment Insurance ending in early January, 2015 was looking terribly ominous.
After applying for 307 jobs in seven months, to no avail, I found an opportunity to be retrained. Through the Second Careers program, courtesy of the Government of Ontario, my tuition, parking, and basic (very – although I’m not complaining) living expenses were going to be covered to allow me to go back to school. So, instead of the fruitless and depressing task of applying for jobs that I might never be contacted about, I’d be going to College and upgrading my knowledge. I’d be given the chance to make myself marketable. Bettering myself. I found out on December 30th that I would be able to go to school on January 5th. What a way to start the year. And talk about last minute…
New Year’s Eve rolled around… I was dreading the night (keep in mind, I’ve been single for almost 11 years!!!). I was invited to two parties and I opted for the one that was most different than usual, and the one I was invited to first. I had no expectations. I figured I’d chat with people, drink a bit too much (hey, it’s New Year’s Eve) and fall asleep in my corner of the room to begin the year anew, as usual.
As I expected, it was a nice gathering. I was pleasantly surprised to discover a few people I knew in attendance, and I met a few new people too. And then, he entered the room. I noticed him immediately. As the night wore on, everyone else at the party disappeared. I don’t remember anything else from the night, other than talking to him. I have learned, since that night, that many people watched us all evening and noticed something happening. The night wore on, the party faded out…
The last 19 days have been the most blissful blur of my life. I have had physical, verbal and mental abuse throughout my history. I do believe this man may be able to make it all worthwhile. I don’t expect him to fix anything, but I think he can help me forget it and help me look towards the future, for the first time in my life. The past may very well become history, and for a history geek like me – that’s saying a lot! I put no pressure on him and I love the fact that he accepts my dents, my flaws, and my brokenness. He is everything that I (and even those around me) ever imagined possible. He’s kind, he’s caring, he’s romantic, he cares about how I feel – these all may seem like run-of-the mill attributes to most people, but I’ve never had them before. Most days I have to re-read conversations we’ve had, to make sure I wasn’t imagining or dreaming things. But I’m not…
The people I’ve told all these things too, and now you are in that realm, have told me to just enjoy it. That’s what I’m trying to do. I’m not used to things (let alone multiple things) going my way… But, somehow, I have started this year with knowledge and love. I could not be more grateful.
Well, it’s officially 2015. The horrors of 2013 are long behind me. The lingering ickiness (I really wish spell check would take “stickiness” off their suggestion list) of 2014 is also behind me. I am looking forward to the upcoming year. I’ve not said that in years… But then again, I’ve a brave new world ahead of me this year (yes, I promise to stop dropping Aldous Huxley titles) and in all honestly, my year started off on an amazing foot. Not my foot, it’s still wonky, but a happy foot nonetheless.
So, no sarcasm in this post, just a happy update. I’m sure the aliens will return my sarcastic and pessimistic brain when they’re done probing it….
I’ve always been told I should write stuff down, because it would seem I don’t do normal. It is the truth that I am the only bagpipe playing, tenor drumming, soapstone carving witch in my little town. I am proud to say that I’ll never be the crazy cat lady, my friend has that distinction, so I tell people I’m only mildly-perturbed. My official title is “Vice President of the Crazy Cat Lady Society” which sounds pretty darned impressive. My other title, given to me by a fellow bagpiper/famous radio personality in South Africa (not that I’m a famous radio personality or have ever been to South Africa – but I DO play bagpipes) is “One of the original founders of the underground bag-piping cell of Counter-Marching-Terrorists.” I probably shouldn’t use the last word, since I’m excessively non-violent, but I do play my pipes left-handed – and anyone who encounters me on the counter-march has experienced that “Oh dear god, the drones are coming at me from the wrong side!!!” kind of terror. So it fits.
When I’m not piping with my band, I’m tenor drumming. I had a concussion for almost a year and could not play my pipes so I learned to drum instead – because nothing is safer for your head than whipping sticks around in the air. Thank goodness they are padded.
I carve soapstone, which I enjoy despite the fact that it’s a very unfeminine hobby. It’s messy and dusty and I occasionally shred and stab my fingers with sharp pointy tools. I’ve admitted to myself that I’ll never be a hand model, and I’m okay with that.
I was also given the title of The Witch of South Mountain because I am a Hallowe’en junkie, have bats in my belfry, a haunted house and moved into town with two black cats. I have a haunted porch every year and I consider it a bust if I go a year without making at least one small child cry. Not that I don’t like children, I just like Hallowe’en more.
So there is me in a nutshell… The tales of battles with zombie garden gnomes and being stalked by my cats will come. Strange things happen in my corner of the world, and I shall share them. 🙂