I’m in a terrible funk.
I don’t know if it’s because of this never-ending winter (though I suspect that’s part of it.) I don’t know if it’s because of my unhealthy lifestyle over the past month (which came first – the bad mood or the bad food?) I don’t know if it’s because I’m burnt out (from what, I can’t say – I have no kids; I like my job; and I’ve come to epitomize “lazy Sunday”…every day of the week.) Continue reading
I have a singing bowl too, but I haven’t unlocked its mysteries yet.
When I get busy or stressed, it seems like the first things to go from my to-do list are the things that will make my heart feel a little bit lighter, the things that will make the stress just a little bit less.
I was (almost entirely) wrong about Amanda Lindhout.
It’s probably not a very popular opinion to express, but back in 2008 when I learned that Amanda had been kidnapped while working as a freelance journalist in Somalia, my first thought was, “That poor girl – but what did she think would happen?”
Amanda didn’t deserve to be kidnapped, tortured, and raped – no one in the world does – but I couldn’t help but feel her naivety had led her into an impossible situation, one that would cause suffering to the people who would have to bail her out. Continue reading
I’m a private person. (I know – good thing I’m putting my inner most thoughts out there for the internet to read, eh?) But I don’t like to talk about my problems. I don’t like to share with strangers. And I certainly don’t like to be the centre of attention. Continue reading
My taste in fantasy is so specific that it’s almost a problem. Mostly, I like character-driven series set in a vaguely medieval world – castles, lush forests, kings and queens, royal intrigue, magic, epic quests, that whole deal – and while I’ll tolerate huge battle scenes (because it seems I must), I’d choose a good rags-to-riches story above all else if given the chance. Oh, and dragons. Lots and lots of dragons. Continue reading
I didn’t really know how to deal with life when I gave up drinking two and a half years ago. Wine was my go-to coping mechanism for any up or down I faced. I drank to celebrate, and I drank to forget. I drank when I was bored or lonely or unhappy or angry or stressed or shy, and when I was none of those things. Continue reading