Perhaps it’s a conspiracy.

Perhaps they’re born with it. Who knows?

I firmly believe that ex-boyfriends have a sixth sense when it comes to their ex-girlfriends. I’ve been single for a while. My last ex called me out of nowhere, some time after I met someone who tickled my fancy. Then another interesting guy I met appeared to trigger off an unusual message from my other ex – he actually wanted to know how I was doing! Weird, seeing that he really doesn’t care (okay maybe I’m being harsh).

Of course, my life thus far could be a series of unrelated, totally coincidental events. But of course, me being me, I’m not buying that for an instant. It must be something in the air that changes when I meet someone who interests me enough to warrant long conversations on Facebook. They point their noses in the direction that the breeze is blowing from and inhale deeply, and at that moment figure out that I have become somewhat interested in someone else.

I think these interests will stay as interests for now.

Where do I start first? Relationships, because I seem to have a lot to say about them.

Haven’t had a “relationship” in a while. Last year I started school and the hard work is starting to become the main aspect of my life. School has a high priority for me right now. Granted I have slacked off some during these first two semesters, but unlike my other tertiary experiences, I actually feel something about this one. I feel like despite the shit that happens, this is something I will succeed at, no matter what. (I haven’t felt like this about anything in a long time.)

Anyway, I digressed just now. I’ve been single for some time now. No prospects in sight really, even though I may have some feelings here and there for special people. However, I feel comfortable in knowing I may have feelings for a guy and doing nothing about it. I just allow the feelings to happen and go on with my life. I still speak to them normally, in fact I’ve started building a couple of new friendships that I know will have a positive effect on me. Yeah, there are those cold, lonely nights when I’d love nothing more than to hold someone, but I no longer feel the need to pursue someone for the sake of being to say ‘I’m in a relationship.’ As pathetic as this sounds, this was the story of my life for a long time. It’s good that I’m breaking away from this way of thinking.

I can be happy on my own. I just never allowed myself to explore this.

I think my hair is happy. It’s been growing beautifully (and why wouldn’t it?) and I now have about an inch and a half of loveliness. For now I’ve decided not to visit the barber shop and just let it grow. Right now it’s reaching that point where it needs to be combed daily (all hair should be treated daily, but at least when it was short I didn’t have to worry about knots…now that it’s longer it dries out easily and tangles up really quickly) and I have to start taking care of it. Not that I mind, but I can’t just run a brush through it in the morning and go about my business. A brief history is below:

I know they’re not all the same height, don’t have me shot on sight. Between 2010 and 2011 I prefered having it short.

That’s all for now really.

I also have plans of blogging regularly. (How old is this statement? Can anyone tell me?)

But as I’d said in my journal, I’m not doing enough of what makes me happy.

That day was a Wednesday. I’d been feeling really ill that day and I was the thirtiest I’d ever been in all my time of being a type 2 diabetic. Something told me to test my blood glucose. It was 560 mg/dL. I actually thought that was a mistake but did it again and a similar figure came up. Hours and hours later I was being wheeled up to the ward to stay the night for observation.

Since then I’ve been struggling to get my sugar down (even though for the past couple of days I’ve been a bit relaxed) and it hasn’t been easy. Still, I’m very proud of the progress I’ve made. I drink more water now, eat a lot more greens and I try to make sure that I eat at regular intervals. Maybe it took that night in hospital and my new daily insulin injections to make me understand what’s at stake.

Other than that it’s Carnival Sunday and I’m not feeling the vibe very much. I guess it’s because I’m still feeling a bit unwell. Hopefully things will get better.

Thank you for reading.

My last blog entry was Jan 4th of this year. I don’t get why blogging gets to me sometimes.

There are times when I want to do it, but I don’t. There are times I feel like I *have* to, instead of wanting to.

There are times I feel too tired to do anything except sleep.

Then there are times when I have no time.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.)