Thursday, August 26, 2010

Why, oh why do I do this to myself...



Just an FYI, I am never dating, or getting married to anyone unless I meet them in the most unrealistically whimsical way possible.

Guess I'm going to be alone, watching old Judy Garland movies and eating sweets for the rest of my life...

Oh wait, I guess I can always invest in a couple of feline friends! -- There is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!

To end, here is my new favourite song...I wonder if that guy's single!



For real though, I love this video...Chubby girls in pretty/sexy outfits dancing in sync and being called beautiful?! Sign me up! (Perhaps that's my true calling in life...)

Once, when I was walking down Spence St (on my way to university) some guy stopped me on the street and he said: "Big girl, you are beautiful!"

True story.

I was more offended than anything (Seriously, did you have to use the word big?! No, really?! Did you...) Ah well, this song more than makes up for it.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

A message to the health nuts on behalf of the chubbos.

As we all already know, I am a bitter woman. (I proudly admit that fact about myself approximately 87 times a day.) However, unfounded bitterness aside, there is something of importance that I feel I need to address on behalf of myself and my chubby and/or unhealthy friends…

We don’t want to hear about how much damn fat and/ or sodium is in our food!!

Now I agree that we should all be watching what we eat, especially with the amount of crap (including sodium) that goes into food. However, there is nothing more annoying then someone who insists on critiquing your lunch (and you) while you are eating it.

Ugh.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing but the utmost respect for a person that has chosen to dedicate their life to maintaining a healthy diet. (No really, kudos to you!) But lord help us all if that person decides to share their lifestyle and opinions in times and situations where they are not wanted.

Case in point:

Me: Eating my frozen dinner and secretly feeling bad about myself.

Healthy McJoe: Eating her low-sodium, low-fat, healthy food.

Me: Awe crap…

Heathy McJoe: Whatcha got there?! – Is that one of those microwave dinners?

Me:Yes.”

Healthy McJoe:Awe man, do you know how much sodium is in there?! That’s like a week’s worth of salt!! Those things are so bad for you!

Me: Feeling awkward and like I want to sink into my seat and die.

Heathy McJoe: You should just make your own food…

Me: *in my head* “Well, Healthy McJoe, I’m poor and can’t afford more than this crappy frozen dinner that doesn’t even taste good. You think I wanna be eating this crap?! No, I don't. It's gross and I'm pretty sure that I can feel my pants getting tighter and my arteries closing up as we speak!

Oh, and another thing, why do you even sit with me at lunch?! I don’t want to spend my lunch hour listening to you tell me how much better you and your damn healthy food options are than me. Seriously!! Go away.

Uh huh…

Healthy McJoe: Oblivious.

Seriously, that account is loosely based on actual events!

Nobody likes the person who overkills the whole health thing. I mean, yes, I speak for me and all my chubbos when I say that we’re all happy as shit for you and your healthy life, but why do you insist on making the rest of us feel bad about our poor diet choices? It’ll -- a healthy lifestyle -- happen for us too one day if we want it to, but not on your incessant critiquing!

Leave us alone, you are not the health police!

So here it is my plea, on behalf of the chubby and unhealthy community...

Healthy friends,

Please stop telling us how bad our food is for us. Please don’t (openly) judge us, or give us “helpful” suggestions about how to eat. – If we want your opinion about food and diet, we will certainly ask for it!

We respect you healthy friends, but most of us already feel bad enough about ourselves, we don’t need your help making us feel worse.

Let’s talk about sports, or TV and movies, or gossip…Let’s just talk about something other than how bad my food choices are and how bad my lifestyle is. And let's also avoid discussing your diet and workout routine. Please!

Thank you.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

I'm still rambling about smoking. #Addict.

So now that I don't smoke, I don't feel like I really have anything insightful to say. (Well, that's my thought process anyway...Cigarettes made me creative. Sigh.)

It's been just over two weeks since I kicked the habit, and let me tell you, I am one agitated, hungry, and just an overall miserable person to be around. (If you haven't noticed it then you are probably blind because I give death glares to everyone and anyone I cross paths with...But that's just who I am now.) In fact, quitting smoking may have prolonged my life, but I feel sorry for all of you suckers who now have to live with the new crabby me for longer. -- You all just shoulda accepted my smoking habit (and I'm going to go as far as to say that you probably should have helped me pay for it) cause we're all in this for the long haul now...

Hooray.

But really, it's not even that bad. True to Shelley form, I am being overly dramatic about this entire situation. -- I mean, sure I still have cravings for cigarettes that I try to ignore by stuffing my face with food. And, yes I certainly have a lot less patience than I used to, but ladies and gentlemen, I am now a non-smoker. It's official.

Although, have no fear my smoking buddies, I have not yet gotten to that point -- That self rightous point where most people who quit smoking get to -- where I think that all smokers are the devil reincarnate. Nope. I still like you all. In fact, I want you all to know that I still think you look cool smoking. (I'm not even just saying that either. I'm old school, I have that 1994 mentality when it comes to smoking. It's cool. It's James Dean Cool. No, wait; it's Wynona Rider in Reality Bites cool.)

Ah well, my dad says that I'm home free in six-weeks. (He better be right, because more than actually craving a cigarette these days, I am just craving being a smoker. It's weird...)

I've made it past two weeks. I'm fatter and I hav a shorter fuse, but at least I'm still trying I guess...
I'm an addict.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

I'm on a float!

I've been in two parades this summer, representing MLC. (And Pretending to represent myself instead...I like pretending that the parades are in honour of me!!)

Monday, August 16, 2010

I'm OK!

Good news everyone: I think I'm OK now.

It's true that I’ve been a chaotic mess for the last week, due in large part to my lack of a cigarette. Although after a thorough self-assessment (which involved me looking into a mirror this morning and telling myself how awesome I am, followed by a food reward of last night’s left-over pizza…) I think it’s safe to say that I am going to be OK!

Yep.

I am A-OK! -- In fact, I am so OK, that I have convinced myself that I am now officially a believable non-smoker who is OK with not smoking! (Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t stink anymore! -- I bet if you kissed me I wouldn’t even taste like a dirty ol’ ashtray anymore either! – Woohoo! Who wants to make out!? No seriously, let’s try…Someone make out with me…Please?!)

Haha…Just kidding. Kind of.

But since we’re on the subject of making out, I will say that (when the time is right) I am excited about the notion of checking off the non-smoking box on all of the online dating sites I intend to join! (I also intend to lose a little weight and post pictures of myself in booty shorts, nipple tassels, and anything that is completely inappropriate and suggestive enough to get men to notice me…Desperate times call for desperate measures! -- The clock is ticking; I’m quickly becoming an old lady!! But that’s an entirely different blog post!)

Oh well, I just wanted to post this little note to tell you all that I am OK today!

Hooray!!

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Keep Going!

So I popped onto Facebook (while waiting for my ride out to Ashern, MB) and low and behold I found a friend's status message that took me by complete surprise and literally made me want to cry!

It said:
"Tomorrow is my quit date........(smoking)........ reading Shelley Cook's blog has made me see that if she can do it.....then so can I !!!!!!!!!!!"
Thanks friend (who I'm not naming, in case you don't want me to!) You've really made my day, and I am excited that you are going to quit smoking with me! (Not only because misery loves company...HAHA, just kidding. But, because we're going to kick this habit and not be slaves to it anymore!)

Good luck! (And thank you for inspiring me to keep going!!)

Time to snap out of it...

After watching Diane Sawyer's April, 2008 interview with Dr. Randy Pausch, author of the best selling book The Last Lecture, I realize that I need to snap out of my self-pitying funk.

So I quit smoking. -- A big accomplishment with huge mood-altering consequences, yes. But, quitting smoking is not the end of the world (as I have alluded to on my blog!) In fact it just dawned on me that even though I have stopped the deadly habit, it is still stealing pieces of my life because I am so consumed by not doing it!

The thing that motivated me to watch Pausch's interview (again) tonight, was an online conversation that I had with Matt Bushby, spouse of missing Manitoba woman, Claudette Osborne. Matt, whom I became friends with because of my IPP (Independent Professional Project), is one of the most positive people I've ever met. Throughout his ordeal, of losing his 'soul mate,' and raising his children without their mother, Matt has shown a great deal of positivity and strength.

(Which is why I decided to google Pausch; because Matt Bushby's attitude reminded me of Randy Pausch's.)

Tonight, during my online chat with Matt, he encouraged me to continue on with my battle to butt out. He reminded me that self-pity can be very self absorbing, and that I should want to quit more than anything, based on how strong my desire to continue to smoke is.

I was inspired.

As Matt and I chatted, he told me about the new challenge that Claudette's family is doing in honour of her. (Her mother and other family members are walking to Winnipeg from Norway House. -- That's almost 800 km -- To raise awareness about her and about the No Stone Unturned concert that is taking place at the Forks this Friday.)

Matt told me about how proud he was of Claudette's family, for taking this journey, and said that he will take part in the last leg of the walk from Ashern to Winnipeg.

Throughout our conversation, Matt maintained a positive attitude, articulating in a way that seemed unfathomable to me (based on what he and his family have been through...)

And then he said something that was so profound to me; after I told him that I liked his attitude and his take on life (especially since his life has been extremely difficult since Claudette went missing.) He said:

"I will never, I think, not feel pain and frustration on how the last few years (of my life) have gone, but I won't let it ruin me either."

Wow.

After he said that I felt like a big baby! -- Here I am feeling utterly and completely sorry for myself because I can't smoke, and Matt was comforting me! He's found a sort of peace with his life-situation that is a bazillion times more upsetting than mine. (I lost my cigarettes and he lost his wife! There isn't even a comparison there...)

Today, I am going to make a conscious effort to stop complaining about my life and about quitting smoking. It's time for me to snap out of it.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Day Six: I feel as sad as an emo kid who lost his eye liner...

Here we are, day six of my and and (supposed) approved non-smoking lifestyle.

Wow, I feel like crap. -- As the title says, I feel like an emo kid who lost his eye liner. I've got a bad case of the sads.

A couple people who have quit smoking told me that I am already at the halfway point. (Hence, another week of feeling like I want to scratch my eyes out before I start to feel better...Hooray!)

Ugh.

I've decided that after tomorrow, I will stop blogging about my absolute hell (of quitting smoking.) I can only imagine that my blog is a bummer to read, and if any of you are still reading through my agony, I salute you. You're all troopers!

I don't feel like blogging right now. I'm going to take a walk or something.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Day Five: Thank the Lord you are almost over...

Action shot of me being miserable.

I am going to go to bed in a few minutes. It's day five of my non-smoking lifestyle and I feel like a soulless shell of my former self.

I know this feeling will pass, but right now I am throwing myself a pity party while trying to coast through the withdrawal symptoms before I call it a night. (I still can't shake the nauseous feeling that I've developed since being a non-smoker, but it is getting better...)

I am getting better, but this habit is one that seems almost invincible. -- I still reach for my cigarettes numerous times a day, only to remember (with complete and utter disappointment) that they are no longer a part of my life.

They (experts? non-smokers? anonymous people on the internet?) say that quitting nicotine is like quitting heroin.

I believe it.

I have never felt so desperate and pathetic as I do these days; the logical side of me thinks "Dude, it's only a fucking cigarette, stop being such a baby!" Yet, when the craving takes over, I am a complete and utter fiend. Many times today I would have smoked if I was given the opportunity.

Yep.

Five days invested, and I would have traded it all in for a puff of a cigarette.

I'm miserable.

I hope tomorrow is better...

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Days three and four: The ebbs and flows of kicking butt...

Well folks, I am on day four of my quitting smoking journey.

It sucks. -- I mean, don't get me wrong, I feel accomplished for having enough will power to endure the sharp and painful withdrawal symptoms that seem to unexpectedly pop up. However, I would be lying if I said that these last four days weren't some of the hardest days I can ever remember...

The physical and psychological toll that quitting smoking has left on my body and mind are taxing; I am exhausted, I have waves of nausea (where I feel like I am going to vomit at any second) followed by an almost uncontrollable urge to eat anything and everything in sight. I'm irritable and frustrated. I grit my teeth and pop my gum, taking deep breaths while I try to divert my attention to anything that is not (or cannot be linked to) smoking. (Oddly enough, I have discovered, in this process, that I have the sheer, raw talent of relating everything to cigarettes. Who knew I was so creative and gifted?!)

This is really hard.

I read on a website (I can't remember which one) that less than 10 per cent of the smoking population actually succeed at quitting. I believe it. (I mean, in these four days alone I have rationalized with myself about a million times on how smoking is just a part of my life that I should just accept and embrace. I tell myself that it would be easier to live a potentially shorter life as a happy smoker, than a longer, healthier life as an angry and irritated non-smoker.)

It's funny how even death doesn't seem to be a good enough reason at times.

that being said, I am still going the distance. -- I don't want to be a slave to cigarettes, or to big tobacco companies (and the government) who are charging me an arm and a leg to kill myself. I don't want to knowingly continue to commit a slow smoke-filled suicide on my own dime. (Shit, $14 every two days to kill myself!? I think this is a lose-lose situation!) I know how horrible the ramifications of smoking are. I don't have the luxury of pleading ignorance to feed my addiction.

I know that I am only four days in, but as I've already said: These have been some of the longest days of my life. (I know I sound like a big baby, and I know that it's hard for people to empathize with me, but wow...This is an insane ride...)

The good part about this whole quitting thing is that I've really changed my perspective on my deadly habit (and kicking it).

It used to be that I would quit under the pressure of someone else. (Boyfriends who didn't smoke were always trying to make me quit the habit, as were my family members and friends...) This time though, I am doing it for me. I'm accountable to myself and nobody else. I know that if I want to have a drag of a cigarette, or even buy a pack of cigarettes, I can. I don't have anybody to answer to. (That's a really nice feeling. Rather than feeling pressure from the people who love me, I feel support from them for a decision that I've made on my own.)

I don't plan on taking a drag of a cigarette or buying a pack. However, I feel empowered knowing that I can if I want to.

Oh well, at this point I am hoping that things will only start to get better! (I still get the shakes and fiend somethin' fierce, but I'm still on the wagon...)

Oh, and I promise that I will stop blogging about this whole non-smoking thing. No really, I will. Right now though, I need an outlet, so you're all stuck with reading about it!

Cheers!

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Day Two: Smoking is cheaper than a crack addiction...

Happier times.

So yesterday, as I was driving in my car, I almost convinced myself to buy a pack of cigarettes. I rationalized every possible situation that would make it seem like a good idea to quit quitting smoking...

First, I told myself that I would buy a cheap pack of cigarettes, smoke one, and leave them in the car for when I want to "casually smoke." Second, I rationalized that my smoking habit was actually far less costly than a crack or meth habit. (No seriously. I almost convinced myself that I should be proud to take up smoking because it's a legal addiction to have and it costs less than crack. I think.) Third, I tried to liberate myself. ("Torches of Freedom!") I told myself that I was my own person, and that if I wanted to smoke, by golly, I will smoke! Fourth, I just accepted the fact that I was a quitter (and not a quitter of smoking, but a quitter of quitting smoking!)

I didn't buy the cigarettes.

Even though I feel that I've made some great arguments (Hey, who can argue with the price of cigarettes vs. the price of hard drugs? Really?!) I know that I need to try and stick with this. I just can't justify not trying to quit anymore. This habit is killing me and making me poor for God sakes!

The worst part about all this is that quitting smoking is a hard-fought battle that makes me feel like I have no soul! (No, seriously. I feel dead on the inside.) Like, I have this weird sense of loss that is looming over me. It's like I've lost my best friend.

Ugh. I have lost my best friend. (No offence anyone who might be offended by reading this, but I like smoking more than I like hanging out with most people...Just sayin...)

"Oh Cigarette, come back, I need you!!"

I've been smoking for more than half of my life! Quitting smoking honestly doesn't seem right to me (even though I know it is!) Hell, it's been my companion through good times and bad...We've vacationed together, and worked together...We've done everything together!

"Goodbye Cigarettes. I'll never forget the times we've had."

Ugh.

Today (Day two) I'm still a fiending wreck whose got the shakes and a bad attitude. At this stage of the quitting process I would probably still trade a kidney for a drag of a cigarette or something...

Sigh.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Day One: FML

Happier times, Circa last week.

Well today is the first day of the rest of my life because I quit smoking.

You'd think that I would be happy that I've quit this bitch, but I'm not. In fact, more than anything my mood shifts from anger to depression to complete and utter loss. There is no sunshine left in my soul today.

I hate quitting.

I'll be honest when I say that I am unsure if I will be able to maintain my life as a non-smoker. I mean, I quit and hope to remain that way, but since I have been doing it for so long, I might slip back into my old puff-puff ways. (I say this because the last thing I need is some non-smoker to laugh at me from their high horse, ivory tower if I slip. -- Nobody likes the person who insists on saying 'I told you so.' Seriously. Nobody likes that person.)

Anyways, the reason that I have chosen to quit are as follows:

1) Stinking: I hate that I smell like a stanky old ash tray. Seriously, why do I even buy perfume?! (Smoke covered in perfume is my scent, it has been for years...)

2) Dying: I have probably already taken a number of years off of my life because of the years and years of smoking I've done. That sucks. I really wanted to live to be at least 100, or be the first person to live forever. Ugh. Damn you cigarettes.

3) Poverty: Cigarettes vs. Food. That's the constant battle that smokers often face. (Thank you Visa for allowing me to not have to make that choice...Sure I am in debt for the next couple of years, but at least I got to smoke and eat!) For real though, it's not just food; I want to be able to have nice things and have awesome adventures. I'm so sick of all my happy non-smoking friends who go on trips and have nice (new) things. I don't want to be the poor smoker who can't afford stuff and who always has wind-blown hair. That's not cool.

4) Uncool: Well damn you Wynona Ryder (AKA Lelaina Pierce in Reality Bites, circa 1994)! You made smoking look super cool. Ugh. Not only did you make smoking look cool, but pretty much every band, singer, Hollywood movie, actor or actress made smoking the thing to do in the early 90s. -- Smoking, grunge, depression and suicide, that's what the 90s were all about man. And now, flash forward to 2010, none of that stuff is remotely cool anymore! (Not gonna lie, that's kinda good cause the whole grunge thing was really depressing...)Still, I was hoping cigarettes would make a comeback.

Ugh. I have the shakes and can't concentrate on anything. Quitting sucks.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

The D-bag at Wal-Mart

So I just encountered the biggest D-bag of all time today at Wal-Mart.

The guy: 'Mr. six foot five, good looking, red Burton hat and flip-flop wearing jerk,' pulled the ultimate d-bag move when he blatantly slithered in front of me in the ten items or less line, with his cart full of items, as the store was closing.

Arrrgh!

I just stood there with this look on my face:


Seriously, I was stunned.

The kicker though, is that I didn't say anything! Instead, I just stood there, balancing my bottle of bleach, 24-pack of toilet paper and other household cleaners, with that look painted onto my face.

And then a girl, who I assume was his girlfriend, walked up. She kind of chuckled and told Mr. D-bag that he couldn't go in that line.

"Don't worry about it," was his reply, as they both smirked. (Him out of arrogance and her out of what looked to be a combination of embarrassment and arrogance.)

She sipped on her medium McDonalds drink and they chatted. (I don't know what about, because I was too busy fuming....)

"You're going to cut me in line?" I was saying to him in my head. "Oh you crossed the line, I'm going to blog about you. Yeah, that's it. I'm going to blog about you and all my friends are going to know what a d-bag you are. So there!"

Then, I overheard him tell the girl to put her McDonalds cup on the floor.

"Let them pick it up," he said. "Or give it back to them and tell them you don't want it."

UGH!

"You know what, now you've really crossed the line," I yelled at him in my head. "If I wasn't too scared to tell you off in real life, I would totally call you out right here. But no, I'm a chicken. That's ok though, all my friends are going to read my blog, and they're going to be appalled by your actions and you'll be so embarrassed...Well, you would be anyway, if you knew that I was blogging about you...No, wait. You probably wouldn't be embarrassed because you're such an arrogant jerk that you likely think this stuff is funny. Well let me tell you something: You, sir, are a d-bag. A big, dumb, d-bag!"

I just stood there. Fuming in my head, with that stupid look painted on my face.

"Oh, and another thing, I'm going to remember your outfit and tell all my friends, and someone's going to know who you are based on my description, and they'll be like 'yeah, that guy's a d-bag!' and I'll say, 'I know!' and then we'll talk about you..."

(What?! I was mad...)

So then the d-bag and his lady cash out, and as I pass by them to go to my check-out, I give them both the meanest, dirtiest look (without actually making eye contact because I'm scared of confrontation) I tell myself that I am going to write the meanest blog rant ever about them.

"Take that d-bag and girlfriend. Take that!"

So here it is, my rant.

If you know this d-bag, message me so we can talk about him behind his back...

Work Weekend

So it's Sunday. (And it's not just any Sunday either; it's the Sunday of the August long weekend.)

I've decided to go to work today.

Now, I should point out that I don't have to go into work today -- I am after all an intern -- but I have this huge project that I am doing for some executives of the corporation and I really want to get ahead of it. (Right now I have just completed the task of compiling most of my required data. I now need to sort, organize and compile a list of my findings. After that, I will feel like I am on top of this project and ready to go into the next phase...)

It's weird. A few years ago, I wouldn't have even considered going into work on a long weekend to do a project unless there was an incentive (like over-time) involved. But alas I have become accustomed to the ways of a CreCommer. -- Don't get me wrong, I don't want to make myself sound better than I actually am, because I still fly by the seat of my pants for many of my projects and endeavours, but this particular project needs special attention.

My, how school has changed me!

One of the values that I have learned in CreComm (and not in any particular class, but throughout the entire program) is that the greatest measure of success comes from those who work hard and go beyond what is expected of them to get the task at hand done. (It only took a year of stress-filled all-nighters to evoke this revelation!)

I want to produce good work. I want to show my bosses, and myself, that I am capable of the projects that they give me. Perhaps, most importantly, I want to establish a reputation of being someone who works hard. (A good reputation is for more valuable than over-time hours.)

Oh well, that being said, I have to go to work. I have these three huge binders on my desk that are just calling my name! (Seriously, I have been thinking about them non-stop since I left the office on Friday. It's hilarious and strange!)

Cheers friends, happy long weekend!

On a side note: Sometimes I am so damn cheesy on this blog. (There is absolutely no uniform layout for what I write about!) Ugh.