enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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The secret is power

OMG the secret is power.

Please don't take this the wrong way, i.e. as me showing off, but my goodness I really had no idea what I had let slip away.

Now that I am getting stronger and stronger - we had our first 2 hour power class on the bike today - I am feeling better and better.

Each day gets better. There's a peace and a feeling of cleanliness about my body. I hadn't realized that I'd stopped feeling like an athlete. It had happened so gradually that I couldn't recognize the difference.

I'm starting to feel the power again and it is divine.

I won't like the way that my face will start to look, nor will I like my flat chest...but the well-being in all of me is worth it.

C. is in Quebec City to play football on the Plains of Abr@aham. Yes, you heard correctly. It was important for C. and his friends, apparently, to go up to carnaval to play football for a couple of hours on the battlefield on which the English defeated the French, and then to drink, sleep and return hom after brunch tomorrow. They will skip the carnaval itself, silly boys!

Anyhow. I hope he has a nice time. :)

So after class today I did not go to C's. Instead I went to buy my favourite country sourdough rye bread and some chocolate milk. And then I was off to the coffee shop.

The wonderful thing about feeling good is that I knew that my hair was all askew from having sweated it out in class, and that I was wearing track pants over bike shorts, etc., etc...and yet I didn't care. I still felt beautiful, somehow. I felt accepting of myself. It's a beautiful feeling.

Otherwise, on one sad note, I must admit that I felt a pang when I read teranika's entry about her mother this morning.

My mother doesn't love me, I guess. Or at least she is too into herself to be able to give anything to me. I wrote to her a couple of weeks ago and all I got back was, "I'll send your books when I get back into the country."

I don't even know where she is right now.

I should give up on caring. Sometimes though, just sometimes, I wish I had someone. I feel like an orphan. I guess in a way I am. I must force myself to remember that I had a grandmother who loved me once and who would love me still if she were still alive.

And I have many friends who love me, too. It is not so bad.

That is all.

I am good, don't worry! I am good.

So now today I want to be bad. I want to buy some pretty, colourful piece of clothing. I will stay within my budget if I buy anything. I know that I bought the pink dress a couple of weeks ago. I think that something in a lovely ice blue will be good. Maybe I will just buy a couple of balls of Rowan's kidsilk h@ze and make a top to go with jeans. I'm not sure.

So now I could examine this decision. Do I want to buy something because thinking about my mother makes me sad?

I don't think so. I think I'm just learning to balance the guilt that I feel over spending money on myself with the feeling that sometimes I need to loosen the reins. I will loosen the reins a little bit.

Tonight I am going to go out to the Winterl-de carnival by myself. There are Inu!t throat singers singing tonight. I don't exactly love this kind of music, but it is definitely interesting. There's an opera gala tomorrow night and I'm thinking about going there. At work this week I set up my speakers and headphones and I've been listening to pucc!ni arias in the afternoon. I looked at the flyleaf yesterday only to see that many of the performances on the cd are from the 1950s! There's a particular quality to that cd that I truly love.

OK. I should make some dippy eggs and toast and maybe even some more coffee!

Oh, before I go! A funny thing - read: peculiar thing - happened at the coffee shop. I was sitting at a table by myself and there was a guy next to me who was also sitting at a table by himself. (These are little tables for two that are lined up along a bench.) I sat down at the table as there were no other seats available in the house.

Anyhow. So a 60 year-old woman came into the coffee shop. She looked normal, middle class, whatever. She asked the guy next to me if she could sit down with him. He told her that, gee, his friend was expected any minute and that therefore the seat wasn't free. She looked very put out. She asked him when exactly his friend was due. So, tihnking that I look perfectly normal and all (in spite of my sports gear), and I wasn't smelling or anything, I told her that she was free to sit with me. SHe did, wihtout thanks. But the whole time she kept on looking over at the guy and asked him again in the first five minutes when his friend was going to arrive.

I felt like telling her that the guy had every right to want to sit alone, but I didn't. And the guy's friend did indeed arrive. And then someone whom the lady knew randomly came into the coffee shop and since another table had become free they two moved over there. And the lady didn't even acknowledge me or say thanks for sharing the table! Some people are so weird. The young guy beside me turned to me and said he didn't know what that was all about, that she was likely going to remember his face and take him out at the knees somewhere. :) I said I didn't get it, either. Very odd. I realized later that I should have said to him, "If your mother never told you this I should tell you now that women are WEIRD sometimes." :)

Missed opportunity. Women really are strange like that sometimes. They get their noses out of joint in ways that I find men don't. THat is about the only virtue of men I can think of at the moment, but still it is a good one. :)

:)

2:00 p.m. - 2008-02-09

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