About half an hour ago I put an eggless cake in the oven. I’m hoping it comes out okay (I’ll post pics before I go to bed because I’m super excited about this) but if not I’m sure I can figure out why. My Aunt, who can cook anything and make it taste like heaven, is here with us and she gave me a few tips on baking cakes while I helped her make our batch of Christmas cakes last month. I tried my best. I didn’t think the absence of eggs would make such a massive difference.
Last month I decided that I want to improve my cooking skills. I really want to learn more about the art of cooking. I’m hoping that knowing about the art and science of preparing my favorite meals will help me manage my type 2 diabetes while still being able to enjoy a good meal.
Didn’t do much today though, other than a few house chores and preparing the cake that’s now in the oven. Should be ready in 15 minutes. The kitchen of course looks like a battle ground. I wonder what would happen if I didn’t clean up?
Don’t think I want to find out….lol.
My Grandmother passed away on November 3rd, 2011. She was 95 years old and the mother of 5 children. She was a talented chef, a genius with embroidery and crochet and a knack for sewing pretty much anything. In fact, in secondary school she made my school skirts for me and even made my shirts for some time too, until I asked her to stop.
There is nothing that prepares any individual for death. The weekend before she broke her hip and needed surgery. She came out of the surgery just fine – she woke up from the anaesthesia and was able to keep food down. The next day she just died, suddenly. The nurses said it was quite sudden. One moment she was speaking to the nurses and the next she was gasping for breath.
Part of me wonders if she was complaining of a tightness in her chest or trouble breathing while she was talking to the nurses in those moments before and was misunderstood. Granny had a speech problem because of her oral cancer some years ago. It’s a terrible thing to think. In fact it’s haunting me right now.
Even hough I’m still numb to all this, I think I am slowly starting to feel the deep, anguish that follows the loss of someone you love.
I often forget how much pleasure I get in the oddest places. Despite the heat and my low sugar today (I need to start eating breakfast, seriously), I got veggies for my Mom on Charlotte Street. Charlotte Street is the place in Port of Spain you can find anything for a much cheaper price than other popular shopping hubs in Port of Spain. Perhaps that has to do with the fact that street side vending isn’t banned on that street?
Anyway, as I said, I find pleasure in the oddest places. I was fascinated by all the fruits and vegetables stacked up for sale at the one vendor I always buy greens from. I realized that pimento red is a really gorgeous shade, especially paired off with the shades of green and yellow/orange that pimentos tend to come in. And on my way to the taxi stand I stopped to gaze at pigeons every few minutes. Despite everything – the polluted water, the bad weather, the fact that they seem to lose their toes very easily* – they survive and life their lives. They act as if everything will be all right, walking about, searching for bread crumbs, splashing in the occasional puddle of water.
Sometimes I take the time to admire the colours of a sunset or admire my puppies running about and playing. Sometimes I gaze at Blackie, our dog, and the way she lays on her back sometimes when she sleeps.
Sometimes I think I’m weird because I find joy, sometimes even solace in little things like this. I was thinking the same thing at an open mic I attended earlier. The band I’m with got a slot and we performed well I think. As nervous as I get from being on a stage, I found some solace in being on the stage tonight. Yes there were people watching, listening, potentially judging us (and me, of course), but I felt at ease, believe it or not. It’s one of the few places I feel I belong, especially now that I’ve **FINALLY** found my voice! I’ve always felt I had an okay singing voice, but it’s been sounding much better lately. And my range has gotten higher, too. 
As always, thank you for reading.
*I’ve been seeing a lot of pigeons with missing toes lately. Just saying. 0_o
They’re so hard to break and so easy to hold on to.
Perhaps it’s because there’s a payoff of some kind from indulging in them.
For example – I am a notorious procrastinator. And I DO MEAN NOTORIOUS. What’s the purpose of doing it though? I do it because “getting to it later” means don’t have to do it right now. And right now I can do something else (or nothing at all.) Of course it doesn’t help that I am constantly tired and depressed, which means no motivation to do anything much.
Of course, my bad habits have taken years to develop. You can’t break any habit overnight, but there are some things I NEED to snap out of. University is something I want to take very, very seriously. But have I been practicing/making notes/reviewing material? No. It is true that this is partially due to Mom’s recent injury and my inability to cope with depressed feelings, but I enjoy sitting back and doing as little as possible – it means that I don’t do anything, which is what I’d rather do. (Did I mention I feel tired much of the time?)
Once I see an ocean of issues and problems, I won’t even bother to start swimming. I just lay on the shore until the tide comes in and sweeps me away. I can’t seem to be able to appreciate the fact that taking things in tiny pieces is the best strategy. Several tiny pieces instead of one large chunk. (My psychologist has been drilling this into my head for the past few months and it seems to be getting nowhere – until now.)
Thank you for reading, as always.
I thought naming this entry ‘Luncheon Meat’ instead of ‘SPAM’ would be hilarious. Hopefully at least one other person in the interwebs sees the joke and is laughing scandalously, just as I am inside.
For as long as I have been on the internet, SPAM has always been something you can’t get away from. Eventually I became accustomed to my inbox being full of worthless emails – the many notices that I was a LOTTERY WINNER! and that I could claim my winnings by sending every piece of personal information about myself to the address below, plus an administrative fee to get everything done. Oh, and who could forget the poor former business partner of the late Minister of Finance of Nigeria! If there’s an ounce of decency in your cold heart, you’ll send him your banking information so you can help him get the funds out of Nigeria and into his hot little pocket.
I think what really got me was that I’d hear about poor sods who would actually fall for this stuff. It was not until I got older that I realized how easy it could be for someone to fall for it. Someone totally new to the internet who has just created their very first @hotmail.com account – can you blame them for reading that terrible email a few times and believing it word for word? I suppose I never fell for that stuff because it sounded improbable and probably because around the time my family got its first PC (with a whopping SIX GIGABYTES OF HARD DRIVE SPACE!) my Dad would bring home these rogue emails and we’d chuckle over them. (I sincerely hope that last sentence was easily decoded. Looks pretty long in my opinion.)
Things became ridiculous as dial up became an ancient relic and DSL became the shiznit. Why on earth would I be interested in Gucci and Coach knock-offs? In fact, why would I be interested if I’m told about it in bad English? (“Free,free,good,solid CoachGUCCI knockofs bags and belts authentic made in China,,,,”) And for the last time, I’m not interested in making my penis larger because I am the proud owner of a Vagina, complete with a clitoris and matching lips. I suppose for every 1,000 email addresses they send that particular email to they get 4 or 5 customers that actually allow themselves to get ripped off. Who knows?
What I hate the most are the comments on my blog. Not just this blog, but all the other WordPress powered blogs I’ve had in the past. Do you know how many times I’ve been told that my entries are ‘well worded’ and are ‘such great sources of information’? Why would you want to thank me for posting something if I did nothing bout bitch about mosquitoes biting me?
Goodness.
As always, thank you for reading.
I feel like such a fraud! It’s been 10 days since my last post even though I promised myself I wouldn’t let it happen.
The main problem, as I described in my journal, is that my time management is terrible. I spend a lot of time doing nothing, because I’m tired/depressed/demotivated and then at the last minute if there’s something I have to get done, I just rush it down. Sure that can work with required reading for a class or calling someone important about an appointment, but that **cannot** apply to learning a piece of music. It simply CANNOT. I learn somewhat quickly, but not that quickly.
And of course, there’s the fact that my attention span is about 2 inches long. Imagine – I had only gotten through about 75% of the previous paragraph when I switched tabs, found a lovely Tony Bennet and Amy Winehouse collab (‘Body & Soul’, look it up), trolled about on Facebook for a few and even called my old piano teacher to organize piano lessons with her once more.
Honestly, right now I feel like I have nothing to do, when this is very, very inaccurate. I’ll tell you why it’s inaccurate:
- I’ve been given a tonne of work to practise for the Percussion Ensemble¹
- If I’m starting piano again in a few weeks, review is crucial
- I have to make notes for one of my classes (this particular class requires us to keep a journal)
- I promised my Mom I’d clean up the spare bedroom and the bedroom I currently occupy (neither have been done yet)
- I haven’t showered for the day (nasty, perhaps?)
And the thing is, I know that all I need is a few minutes of practise before I really get into it. On really bad days I find myself having to force it, but somehow I get it done.
I think I want to talk to my psychiatrist about this though…it worries me. My attention span I mean.
Thank you for reading.
¹One of the requirements of the music program I’m doing is belonging to an ensemble. I chose percussion because I want to declare it as my major instrument next semester. Oh, and I love it too. (LOL.)
I’m afraid of many things. Half the times the things I’m afraid of seem to happen.
One thing that scares the shit out of me is growing old. I remember how she was a few years ago – a tough lady who took bullshit from NO ONE (especially yours truly) and managed to fight cancer like it was a walk in a park. Now she’s frail, bent, not too sure of her surroundings. It breaks my heart. It especially breaks my heart to see how my Mother struggles to tend to her needs and some how keep everything together (just barely). She has problems of her own and having to be so emotionally stretched can’t be easy. Will I become like my Grandmother some day? Will my Mother end up like Granny? How will I cope? Will I be mad all the time (as my Mom seems to be)? Will *I* ever end up like my Grandmother?
Perhaps I shouldn’t worry about what will happen years from now – maybe what matters is making the most of my life while I’m still able to take care of myself (whatever that means) and some how finding the balance and stability I will need to continue taking care of myself (whatever that means) so that I can not end up like my Mom. (I won’t go into how she ended up just yet.)
This evening I had brown rice instead of white rice for dinner, drank water instead of juice and had an apple after dinner. I’m feeling somewhat satisfied but not completely full. What’s nice is that I’m not getting the tiredness and various pains associated with eating a dinner made up of simple starches (like fries or white rice). Usually after eating dinner I’d just feel sick and lethargic because my sugar was probably too high. I suppose that was motiviated by the fear of never losing weight and controlling my diabetes properly. Imagine what I could do if I really kept my sugar under control – maybe I’d feel less depressed and have more energy?
Thank you for reading.
(Oh – and I’ve set an alarm on my phone for 9:30 PM every night – depending where I am and what’s happening, I will try my best to update this often. I owe it to myself to write OFTEN.)
It’s going to be a really busy weekend for me.
Here’s a little more about myself.
I play percussion (mostly tympani) in an orchestra. I’ve been with them since I was in my teens. We’re having a concert this Saturday night. Tomorrow is the dress rehearsal. In fact, tomorrow I have to make to the head shrinker, the barber (please notice my pic, lol) and to rehearsal in the evening. I think we’re doing okay so far and our guest conductor is lovely.
Once tomorrow is out of the way I have a video shoot thingie on Saturday morning. The band I’m with got a gig for next week. We’re not getting paid but the exposure is worth it – we’ll be “interviewed” and stuff and the live performance is on Thursday. That’s going to be filmed as well, plus they’re doing a photoshoot for promotional purposes. I had no idea that asking to be a part of this group would come with so many opportunities.
It all started out with one guy and a guitar. We first met at an office job gig I once had, then later saw each other in college. (I still don’t have a degree by the way, that’s s a story for another time.) He does spoken word but has sort of developed his style over the years so it’s a blend of pop/rock/rap/rapso/spoken word/etc (lol @ etc…I just had to). He decided to try using a few more instruments (a 2nd guitar, bass, percussion) and a few back up singers. His old set of back ups eventually went their own ways and I happened to see him at a party recently, so I spoke to him about being a part of it. I went to one rehearsal and the rest, as they say, is history…
So after that stuff on Saturday with the shoot, Saturday night is the concert with the orchestra and Sunday I have to attend the workshop/photoshoot/dress rehearsal for the gig that my band has for next week. It’s on Thursday.
Hoping this works out well. I haven’t been this active in a while and it’s good that I can be despite the depression. All this activity helps me relate to people a little better too. 
Thank you for reading.
Naturally, this is the obligatory first post. It’s over a month late in fact.
Let’s go back a little bit.
In early July the lovely Keeshia gave me a domain with WordPress installed. I decided to make an offer because I thought it was high time I start doing the things I liked to do no matter how sad or depressed I felt. (That’s another story.) Of course, life being what it is, got in the way. Much has happened in the past month – I have neglected most of my online haunts and neglected myself more than ever. I would keep telling myself, “I’ll get to it tomorrow.” Tomorrow has finally come.
So now I have this blog and all these things in my mind and heart that I want to say but leave unsaid. I’ve been down this road so many times – a shiny, brand new blog with the brand-new-blog smell. What usually happens is that I blog for a short time, then abandon said blog, then repeat the process. I’ve never been consistent.
In fact, the only thing I’ve ever been consistent at is not being consistent. No, wait – that’s a lie – I’ve also been consistent with procrastination. Very consistent. To the point where I should probably teach a class about the subject (“no class today everyone, but we’ll definitely have classs tomorrow”) or seek professional help?
Procrastination has always come so naturally to me. However, I think it has to do with my mental state of affairs more than anything else. Why do we do it in the first place? To avoid doing something unpleasant or otherwise undesirable. So why did I procrastinate with this first post, even though I want to blog?
Good question.
I do want to blog. I have a lot to say about the world and I’ll be damned if I can’t use a minuscule space on the internet as my own personal soap box. I want to talk about the things that interest me, the things that anger me, the things that make me laugh ’till I cry. Writing about it allows me the freedom to talk about these things. I am never able to speak without fear of judgement, but when I write, I write fearlessly, not giving a damn about what anyone says. (Facebook statuses are an exception to this rule.)
So off I go into the world of blogging once again.
Thank you for reading
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