Usagi.ca

20Jun
2

Project 365: Day 10 – A Fakey P365 (and Father’s Day)

I made it all the way to 7:26 p.m. EST before realizing I had no one to call.

I thought I was OK. I had a great morning with my son and a lazy afternoon reminiscing. As the day winds to a close, I realize that ultimately it still hurts to not be able to hear my dad’s voice.

I don’t want to dwell on my sadness because I think that’s a really crappy tribute.

The fact is that I had the best dad a girl could ask for. He not only spent time with me: he enjoyed it. When I was little, we would go to the library at least every week. We also had weekly (every Friday!) “dates” at McDonalds (in Clairemont Square, in case anybody from San Diego pops by and wants a visual. This was way back when that mall was too dumpy to even count as a strip mall, though. It’s totally nice now). These fell to the wayside when I was in high school but my dad was still a very active presence in my life. He was at almost all of my home track meets. He was definitely at my weekend ones, waking up at ungodly hours on his day off to drive me to the track at San Diego High.

In my 20s, we would resume our weekly outings. We eschewed McDonalds for the local Starbucks (in the revamped Clairemont Square) and would then wander around the Crown Books that was located beside it. Eventually, we moved things to Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf (in the shopping plaza at the corner of Genessee and Balboa). After I’d moved to San Francisco (then Vancouver, then Toronto and finally to my current Canadian city), we would talk on the phone at least weekly. Our coffee dates continued whenever I was in town –

- until my last visit in 2006 when he was too weak to leave the house for prolonged periods.

I miss my dad everyday: not just Father’s Days, holidays, birthdays or anniversaries. Everyday. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing him and I’m OK with that. It’s like the first part of one of my favorite quotes: “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength.” If I’m able to get up in the morning, if I can walk with my head held high, it’s because I had a dad who believed in me. I had a father who stood up for me, who did his best to stand between me and the worst that the world had to offer. I was loved and that is a very blessed thing.

Happy Father’s Day, Pops.

Dad, circa 1950somethingorother, during training

Dad, circa 1950somethingorother, during training

Posted by A. in Gratitude, Life? Don't talk to me about life., Project 365 and tagged with ,
19Jun
0

Project 365: Days Seven Through Nine (and a Brief Update)

Project 365: Day Seven

Project 365: Day Seven

Project 365: Day Eight

Project 365: Day Eight

Project 365: Day Nine

Project 365: Day Nine

I did take a picture for day six. I acknowledge that things posted to the internet never really go away, however. I don’t want my son immortalized in pigtails – at least, not until his wedding day when it appears on one wall as part of a slide show.

Things have been stressful around here. We received some news that, while not unexpected, definitely wasn’t pleasant. I spent a couple of minutes debating whether to let myself have a proper freak out that might have included crying and then locking myself in my room. I decided to be the strong girl I know I can be, do what I can to change the situation and not look at it as a failure or disaster. It’s a change and one that will lead to something way, way better. I believe this.

Posted by A. in Life? Don't talk to me about life., Project 365 and tagged with , , ,
15Jun
2

Project 365: Day Five (and a Poem)

Project 365: Day Five

Project 365: Day Five

Years ago, my friend Rachel brought a theater program to me. There was an excerpt from a poem titled “The Moon is Always Female”:

For we were priests to the goddesses
to whom were fashioned the first altars
of clumsy stone on stone and leaping animal
in the wombdark caves, long before men
put on skirts and masks to scare babies.
For we were healers with herbs and poultices
with our milk and careful fingers
long before they began learning to cut up
the living by making jokes at corpses.
For we were making sounds from our throats
and lips to warn and encourage the helpless
young long before schools were built
to teach boys to obey and be bored and kill.

I loved it so much that I bought the book of the same title which housed this and other poems that I enjoyed just as much.

Even now, well over a decade since I became aware of Marge Piercy, that book is one of my favorites. It is never far from my bedside and I still read through it at least once a year.

Posted by A. in Project 365 and tagged with , ,
14Jun
0

Project 365: Day Four

Project 365: Day Four

Project 365: Day Four

I shall call this one “The Mistress,” a.k.a. a section of my husband’s music room/recording area.

Posted by A. in Project 365
13Jun
0

Project 365: Day Three (and a Body Acceptance Rant)

Project 365: Day Three

Project 365: Day Three

This, my friends, is what exactly one serving size of ice cream looks like. It’s half of a cup and comes in at a remarkably undaunting 150 calories. I’ve found that it’s comparable to the yogurt I usually buy in regards to calories, fat content and carbohydrate level. I think that the serving size for yogurt is slightly larger but if one is absolutely craving ice cream, then the real deal isn’t really that bad.

I suppose this is as good a time as any to make the body acceptance post I’ve been tossing around in my head.

Body acceptance is good. I definitely have it. I know that, no matter how many crunches I do, I’m never going to have that hourglass waist that my friend R has. I also know that those core exercises aren’t going to eliminate the extra bits of skin that have made me their home after my son was born. Oh, and I learned back in sixth grade that no matter how many times I make my elbows meet behind my back, my bust will not increase. I’m OK with all of this. It doesn’t cause me anguish or sleepless nights.

I’m not so groovy with the extra pounds staring back at me from the scale. Those are the result of a lot of bad eating (Pringles! Doritos! I thought all of those moments meant something but they never even texted me the next morning!) and sedentary habits.

However, according to some, I’m betraying other women by wanting to lose that extra weight. By wanting to improve myself, I’ve painted myself as some fat hater who is what’s wrong with society with my unrealistic ideals.

I realize that those people aren’t representative of the majority of the people who believe in fat acceptance. The loud vocal minority is still annoying, though. Sure, call me down if I’m doing a running commentary about how all those calories in a Works burger could feed a third world country for a day. Put me in my place if I’m saying that skinny is the only acceptable way to be. I’m not doing either of those, though. I’m just a girl trying to get as close to my pre-pregnancy weight as possible – and even at this, I’m not going to beat myself up if it’s not possible. It might not be courtesy of all the biological changes. I still want to see what I can accomplish.

My point? I’m not telling other people what their ideal should be. I wish they’d give me the same courtesy.

Posted by A. in Project 365 and tagged with , , ,
12Jun
2

Project 365: Day Two (and Gratitude)

Project 365: Day Two

Today I am grateful for a husband who doesn’t ask me 50,000,000 times what’s wrong just because I’m quiet.

For the most part, I really am okay with my own company. I’ve always spent a decent amount of time stuck in my own head. Mostly, I daydream (and if I want to sound Really Important, my favorite imaginings eventually turn into stories). Sometimes, I contemplate how to solve certain things. I also have regretful and nostalgic thoughts that are quickly balanced with gratitude: I’m glad that I grieve for the loved ones who have passed before me. For me, it’s a reminder that the time we spent was good, which is why I miss them so much. I realize that not everybody is lucky enough to say that.

I wasn’t really thinking of anything important tonight when I realized that my husband was wordlessly driving us home from the grocery store. I do remember my attention shifting after I noticed this. I recalled another boy I dated – actually, more than one, now that I’m thinking about it – that weren’t comfortable if I wasn’t constantly chattering.

“It’s rude,” one had said. “You should be entertaining me since I’m the one who’s driving.”

Another insisted that there was something wrong with being in a room with someone and not continuously saying speaking.

There are also the ones who constantly asked, “What’s wrong? Something’s wrong. You’re being quiet. What’s wrong? Why won’t you tell me? Are you mad? Come on, tell me what’s wrong.” Sorry to play into gender stereotypes, but, dude, I thought I was the one who was supposed to use this logic.

My husband said none of these. He only drove and left me to my thoughts. It was a nice feeling – almost nice enough to get me to remove the cellophane I placed over his toilet bowl*.

Posted by A. in Gratitude, Project 365 and tagged with , , , ,
11Jun
0

Project 365: Day One and Genesis

Project 365: Day One



My life has been blessed. If I look back, I realize that I have almost always been happy. Sure, there have been rough times and stretches that were painful. Things may not always be perfect but I believe that they have always been good.

I want this blog to reflect this goodness. I want it to be a place I can look at and be reminded, “Oh, yeah. Things are pretty awesome.” I want it to reflect my hopes and my wishes, and everything I’ve ever dreamed.

I want it to be an example that things aren’t over until somebody makes the choice for things to be done.

Posted by A. in Project 365