It’s all about intent.

In the weekend a friend of mine told me that another friend had told her that I look like I have put on 2kgs.

My initial reaction was 2kgs? That is just ridiculous. How can you even tell if someone has put on 2kgs?

My secondary reaction was Shite. I'm getting fat. So fat that people have noticed. This is terrible, I'm going to have to start dieting.

I spent a couple of days obsessing about it. I have had body image issues for much of my life. Both the friends mentioned above know this. It made me wonder even more why they would say/tell me this sort of stuff. I can see a couple of things that it could achieve. One would be to make me feel bad. The other would be to make them feel better. As they are friends, I would like to assume that it is the second.

Which brings me to the point of this post.

I think the world would be a much better place if everyone thought about their intent before acting. Before you say something to someone, think about why you are saying it, and what the repercussions might be. If the intent isn't good, then why do it?

It is a simple philosophy really, but it might save someone you care about a whole lot of hurt and obsessing.

Dance like nobody’s watching.

I am helping a couple of friends through a hard time at the moment (at least, I hope I am!). They are both grieving for things that they never really had, but imagined that they wanted. It is a difficult kind of pain because other people tend to trivialise it and tell you to just get on with things. It is also something that stands in the way of them enjoying their lives to the fullest.

I have been thinking about what it is that these two friends have in common. It is a lack of faith in themselves. It is the inability to see themselves for the amazing people that those of us that know them know they are. It got me thinking about other people I know, and what the differences are between the people who are on the whole satisfied with their lives, and those who seem to have something lacking. (I am not meaning to cast judgements here.) Again – it is self worth.

I am not sure what it is that a person can do to change this for themselves. I remember a time when I had no self confidence but I can't remember what happened to make that change. I am not saying that to love yourself means that you will get everything you want in life, but I do know that it helps you bounce back from knocks. It gives you the ability to step back and put things into perspective – to not wonder what it was that you did wrong that caused you to lose the thing you wanted. Sometimes things are caused by other people. Sometimes things just happen.

So anyway, if I was to get to the point, I guess I would say that it is important to think things through, but don't think them to death. Don't blame yourself for everything. Remember the things that are great about you. Don't spend your life worrying about what other people think of you.Be yourself.

And dance like nobody's watching.

It’s ok to have off days.

Today is one of those days where everything seems to be going wrong. Well, not wrong, but just not quite right. I feel a bit down and a bit annoyed, but I can't really put my finger on why.

Just now I wrote half a blog post. I tried to save it and it disappeared. It has flown off into nowhere. That is really annoying. I thought briefly about punching my screen. I don't usually have that sort of reaction to those sorts of situations, but today is different.

Earlier I was creating a text image in Photoshop when somehow it turned into a 65mb file. I have no idea how, but it meant that my whole pc locked up and I couldn't do anything. I went for a walk and calmed down a bit.

At lunchtime I had my weekly game of touch rugby. We won, but a guy on my team spent the whole 40 minutes shouting at us. It is supposed to be social but he was making it… well… antisocial. I thought about yelling back at him, but then I realised that it wouldn't have achieved anything.

I know that these things that are happening are SO trivial in the scheme of things, so I should just let them go. But I also know that it's ok to feel down some days, as long as you keep it in perspective.

So… I have cancelled my Youthline shift tonight. I don't think I am in the right headspace to help other people. I am going to go home and hang out with my cats and my husband in front of the tv.

And I'm not going to punish myself, because it's ok to be down sometimes… 

I’m lucky to have you

I have a huge personality flaw. I can't say no. I demonstrated the flaw this weekend and I have learned a few lessons as a result. It was a fairly common scenario. We went down to Suite after work on Friday night for a couple of quiet drinks. Shaun went home at about 10pm that night. I got home at 10pm on Saturday.

As he was leaving, Shaun tried to make promise to be home by 2am. I promised 5am. He came by the bar at 8am to collect his car, and to tell me that he was a bit annoyed. At the time, I wondered why. I was having fun. In retrospect, I guess it was fair enough. He is very tolerant of me.

I justify all of this by reminding him that he knew I was like this when he married me. I guess what is frustrating for him is the fact that he then has to look after me when I get the flu as a result of not looking after myself.

The reason it happens is that I don't want to go home in case something exciting happens and I miss it. I know how dumb that sounds – it just doesn't seem dumb at the time.

I am incredibly fortunate to have Shaun. While everyone else gets in trouble with their spouses, mine just rolls his eyes and laughs. As I am sitting here today feeling like crap, I am making all sorts of resolutions for the future. I am supposed to be getting healthy in preparation for having children.

I guess I have a long way to go…

Don’t look if you’re squeamish.

Today has been a good day on the whole. It's friday and it's sunny. The only thing that has been bugging me is my heels. I know I've already moaned about my blisters but this is part 2.

Over the course of the day the pain was becoming worse and worse. I decided to ignore it, because no one likes a whiner, but about half an hour ago I broke. It had become excrutiating.

I pulled my shoe off and noticed the bandage had been pushed right down. I pulled it off.

I have to go and throw up now!

Blistering.

I have this problem with my feet. No matter what shoes I wear, the moment I run more than about 1km they start blistering. I have tried strapping them up, wearing special socks, going to one of those special stores that scientifically figure out what shoes you should wear… I even have a podiatrist. Nothing seems to work.

For years I ignored the problem because I LOVE running. I was training for a half marathon a couple of years ago and my feet were in a constant state of disrepair. By the time the actual race was over, I had literally run all the skin of both feet. They were bloody messes. I take a month or so off for them to heal, and then the process starts all over again.

A few months back I decided to stop running altogether. The constant pain is just not worth it. But there are some mornings when I wake up and it is just so beautiful outside that I want to go running. This morning was one of those mornings. We live right next to (in my opinion) one of the most beautiful parks in NZ (Cornwall Park). I thought perhaps I'd compromise and go for a power walk. After the first km I could feel the familar rubbing. By the end of the third km I was in agony so I decided to run the rest of the loop (approx 5km) so I could get home quickly. It was either that or take my shoes off.

So unfortunately I now have my feet strapped up again and the old familiar limp is back. I guess I'll be sticking to the gym from now on.

Actually – maybe I should just pull my bike out. Now there's an idea.

Crazy days

Today started off crazy. Weird crazy. I got up at 5:30am and drove into the city (which is about 7km) to go to the gym. The drive was uneventful until I got about 1km from my offramp. Check this out…

Photo taken by Bruce Turner

The fog was so thick that I couldn't see the city at all. It was still dark when I went through it, so it was all lit up by orange street lights. It was like driving into Gotham City (I expect – I've never actually been to Gotham City…).

I got to the gym and things got weirder. I have been going to BodyPump at Les Mills for about 8 years now. I always go to the 6:15am class on a Wednesday. I walked up the stairs like every other Wednesday and the whole studio had turned around! They have done renovations over Easter and the stage is at the other end of the room. It was such a strange feeling. I was quite disorientated. As it turns out, it works much better that way.

Anyway, the fog has cleared and it is a beautiful day. Just as well – I have my first game of Winter Touch at lunchtime.

You’re not being fair

A couple of years ago a bad thing happened. I work for a large corporation. My husband used to work here as well. We were in completely different areas of the business – I am in IT, he was in sales. We had nothing to do with each other, and that was good.

Then he got offered a job with a competitor. He told our employer but they wouldn't match it. The decision was a difficult one, but in the end it made financial sense to leave. Almost immediately there was fallout. Because Shaun was one of the highest achieving sales people, there was some bitterness when he left. Some people handled it well, others didn't. Unfortunately, those that didn't wanted to punish him, and the best way to do that was through me.

People started accusing me of stealing information and giving it to Shaun and his colleagues. It was a ridiculous accusation to those that know us. We have a rule at home about not even discussing business. I am fiercely loyal to my employees and always have been.

They tried to fire me for a conflict of interest. It got completely out of control. I wanted to know what it was that I was being accused of but they wouldn't tell me. They just kept saying there was a 'perception'. I wanted them to conduct an investigation to prove that I had done nothing wrong, but they refused. They took another tack. They started smashing up competitors equipment in the atrium. They declared a war against them and there were posters up all over the building. I was systematically stripped of parts of my job and told to lie about the others.

It was at that stage that my seizures started…

Anyway, I thought about leaving but decided that it would be an admission of guilt. I knew that the moment I left, the people that had been persecuting me would spread rumours and that would make it difficult for me to get another job in the industry. I have been with this company 10 years, so financially I stood to lose a lot if I left before my anniversary. Plus, I love my work. Leaving wasn't an option.

After a few months things got better. People found something else to talk about. Aside from a few people that still let doors go in my face, life was getting back to normal.

Then I got married.

All of a sudden the old issues started re-emerging. I guess changing my name reminded people. I was stripped of the last system that I was administrator of (which is actually a good thing – now I only do development, no crappy support stuff, but that's beside the point). An email block has gone in so that we are not allowed to email the company that my husband works for. Annoying.

I feel persecuted for something I am innocent of. It is a horrible feeling to have your integrity questioned.

In the olden days.

I love Easter. It reminds me of family holidays when I was a kid. Mum and dad were legends. When dad got home from work on the Thursday night they used to pack all three of us and our cat Killy into a Mazda station wagon and drive 6 hours down to Palmerston North to see nan. I remember the trips from about the age of 7. That meant Mary and Dave were 6 and 5.

Killy was allowed to walk anywhere in the car except on dad. For the first hour he would be quiet, half way through the second one he would start miaowing, and by dinner time he would be making this strange low howling sound while he stood on his hind legs looking out the window.

We would stop for dinner at Turangi and get into our pyjamas. Mum would make beds for Mary and Dave in the boot of the station wagon and I would sleep on the back seat. We would stop once on the Desert Road for Killy to get out and go to the toilet, and then we wouldn't wake up until Palmerston North. I loved those trips.

It was always cold down there. Heaps colder than Auckland. We would have to get out 'winter clothes' and there was frost every morning. Dad would do an easter egg hunt for us. There would always be one in his slipper.

We would take our easter eggs and stash them. There was always the danger that one of the others might find yours and eat them. Every year the same thing would happen. I would eat all of mine in the first hour and then feel sick. Mary would be careful with hers and make them last all of easter. Dave would bring out his that he had saved from the year before. They would have gone all white and mum would make him throw them away.

That is about all I remember. They were good times.

What’s red and sticky?

Yup – another moan about bureaucratic red tape.
Am I moaning too much lately??
Does that kind of too have 2 o’s?

I am waiting on my American Express and my passport. I applied for both 6 weeks ago. The Amex is completely their fault – the passport goes both ways.

I have a platinum Amex (which clearly isn’t funded solely by my developer’s salary). They promise that they’ll give you the best service you can possibly imagine, anywhere. They say that if your washing machine breaks down, don’t call a repair man, call Amex. They’ll sort it out. (I’m not allowed to touch our washing machine so I’ve never put this to the test). You’d think then, that if you needed a new card because your name had changed, that it would be a simple procedure.

I have now called 4 seperate times and spoken to 3 seperate people. Each time they promise they will sort it out right away. It would seem that they were lying. The guy I spoke to today said there was no record in the system of my application, although somehow he seemed to know what my new name was, so I suspect he was lying.

The passport is more annoying. I sent in my application. They sent it back saying that they couldn’t process it until I sent in my old passport. Fair enough. I sent it back. Then they sent the application back again saying that they don’t believe my father’s name is Hawk Hawk. Fair enough. It’s not. But couldn’t they have told me that at the same time that they sent back the first denial?

I am going to Sydney in a couple of weeks. I am supposed to fly out on the 28th. According to the passport office, my 10 working days starts today. If I factor in Easter, weekends and posting time, I should get it on the 27th. That just sounds dodgy. And kinda funny I guess. Talk about cutting it fine! I hope there isn’t a mail strike.

Oh well, I guess I’ll fall on my feet. I always do.