I smoked a little of my homegrown while soaking in the bath this evening. The tiniest bit, because it’s potent. I figured that out yesterday, when I smoked just the littlest bit more than a tiny bit in my pipe in the late afternoon and felt the littlest bit anxious and uncomfortable for a short time.
T. told me that that feeling is the need to give your energy an outlet. A reason to engage in movement. For me, that also means engaging in expression. I need to remember that. …
The last article I published here on Medium was September 23.
19 days ago.
Not that long, really, although the so-called Medium aficionados would liken that kind of absence to creative suicide.
Forgive me if I sound a little cranky, but these 19 days away have really got my wheels turning on what I’m doing over here, exactly.
I haven’t felt compelled to write at all lately, and I have my suspicions about the reasons. The obvious one is that I’ve been busy, and I’m tired.
The Medium aficionados would say, “That’s not good enough, that’s no excuse. I write no matter how tired I am. I set my alarm for 4 in the morning so I can fit in two precious hours of writing before I have to get ready for work. …
Growing up an introvert meant that for most of my younger days, I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself. It meant making an effort not to be different.
Then, in my early 20s, I started my first grown-up job and met three ladies who would later become my closest girlfriends.
I mention these friends often because they’ve had a pretty profound impact on my life. In the 13 years we’ve known each other, they’ve coaxed me out of my shell and helped me celebrate the beauty of being different.
Over the past 13 years, this beautiful group of beings has helped me grow in so many ways — spiritually, creatively, intellectually. I think we’ve been pivotal, in fact, in helping each other grow and find the path we’re meant to follow. It’s kind of impossible not to go chasing after your dreams and inspirations when you’ve got a team of cheerleaders constantly rallying behind you. …
I have a friend who struggles to understand my need for ample “me time.”
I am an introvert, which means that after a particularly demanding work day or social event requiring a steady output of energy, I have nothing left give.
I know this of myself, which is why, at times when my schedule is filled with commitments, I deliberately reserve segments of time to just be.
These breaks are crucial for topping up my reserves before the next task at hand, and I’m fiercely protective of them, even if it means fabricating some kind of explanation to liberate me of a potential commitment. …
When the 2010 Olympic Winter Games came to Vancouver, there was lots of excitement about getting over to experience it, since — much like the turn of the millennium or 2017’s total solar eclipse — you might never get a chance to experience something like this again in your lifetime.
I was 26 years old at the time of Vancouver 2010. My sister was 24 and lived with a roommate smack dab in the centre of downtown Vancouver.
My fiance, best friend and I caught the ferry from Vancouver Island on a Friday night amid the two weeks’ festivities, taking advantage of the 90-minute crossing to covertly suck back a concession-bought Pepsi spiked with Bacardi Dark. …
Today marks Day 10 since I started following the keto diet.
And let me tell you, my original notion of what I thought a keto diet entailed has already shifted since starting this experiment.
Let’s begin with sugar.
Before looking more closely at the specific parameters of a keto diet, I don’t think I had any clue that sugar was a big fat no-no.
It’s not that I’m a sugar addict (which is exactly what a sugar addict would say), but I like to whip up goodies in the kitchen, to finish off a meal with a square of rich dark chocolate and, on the very rare occasion, indulge in what I deem the really dirty stuff (think Swedish fish, peanut butter cups and sugar-crusted sour keys). …
I ’m 35 years old, which means I’ve seen a lot of changes to the Internet since the days I used to sit in front in front of the bulky CRT monitor perched on the desk of our basement home office and wait patiently for the dial-up to complete its strange series of clicks and beeps.
I remember updating my MSN Messenger status with angsty song lyrics, discovering the original pixelated Hampster Dance and debating whether I should include the guy I liked when forwarding ridiculous chain messages from my Hotmail account.
But what really changed the World Wide Web for me was when I stumbled upon DiaryLand, with it’s cutely simple interface and ability for me to wax teenage poetic on whatever my heart desired. …
The other night my husband and I watched a new movie, Booksmart.
The plot follows best friends Amy and Molly who, during their final days of high school, suddenly realize they’ve spent the past four years focused exclusively on academics and missed out on the experience and joys of partying with their classmates.
What follows is a pretty comical (and at times sweetly emotional) escapade of trying to catch up on four years’ worth of missed high school shenanigans.
The movie made me laugh — a lot — but more than that, it struck a tender chord with me. I couldn’t help reflect on how my own high school experience wasn’t all that far-removed from Amy and Molly’s. …
Okay, here it goes, friends: I’ve decided to start eating keto.
Ugh. Eye-roll, right?
It’s not something I’d really planned on doing — in fact, until very recently, I didn’t think much of keto.
I began following a paleo protocol sometime in late 2016, and my body responded well to it. Really well.
I’d always thought of keto, meanwhile, as paleo’s dirty second cousin, loaded with bacon-wrapped cream cheese and burger patties smothered in glistening orange cheddar.
My diet is generally comprised of small amounts of as clean meats as possible (ideally organic, pasture-raised varieties, depending on my budget) and an unabashed shit-ton of vegetables. …
There’s this idea that the things that trigger you about the people around you tend to serve as a mirror for your own personal challenges and deficiencies.
I have a friend who will often get fixated on whatever new or exciting venture grabs her attention. She becomes obsessed, dreaming up all kinds of elaborate scenarios based on her newfound passion, until suddenly — she’s on to something new.
I think the so-called experts call this “shiny object syndrome” — the tendency to become easily captivated (read: distracted) by the next greatest idea.
I’ve often wondered how my friend can regularly abandon one thing in hot pursuit of another. Unfinished business drives me mental, to the point where I’ll easily run myself ragged trying to get it all done (not a great attribute to possess). …