Pre Christmas Musings

Christmas as an adult. Never quite the same as when you were a kid. Learning to slowly appreciate different things than presents, presents, presents. Like having my immediate family close by. Making traditional Christmas food. Anticipating my family unwrapping what I've bought. Having a niece to fuss over. Late night Christmas texts. The presents hype is nothing compared to adulthood contentment.

Home Time!

Well thats not entirely true. I'm not sure if the South Island is really even home these days or not. The end of this year will mean 6 years in Auckland which is 1/3 of my life. The lines of what equals "home" blurs a little as you get older. I still consider where my parents are as home, but I go back to see them, stay for a couple of weeks and start to miss my Auckland home. It gets more and more confusing the more I think about it.

I like to think that home is where my pillow is. I'm quite attached to my particular pillow and always miss it when I'm away. This holiday though I'm taking my pillow and my sense of home with me. It shall be good times.

But on brighter, simpler notes I'M GOING TO MY BIRTHPLACE! And get to have hugs with mum and dad and cuddles with my niece which should be awesome. Also my little sister is getting married so there is cause for some decent summer celebrations!

Shoes full of juice

Got to fulfill the juice girl dream today and worked at The Juicery doing promo work and working behind the counter. Big props to the owner aye, its a sweet little business. Saw some great customer service in action and saw how a small dream could grow with a heck of a lot of hard work.

I really enjoyed the "manual labour" in some ways. People were incredibly easy to please. They ordered, we made, they drunk. Such a change from nursing, I enjoyed the huge difference. I enjoy caring for people and being a fixer, but with nursing, there never seemed to be an end point? No end of the day where you felt like you had done all you could and could go home happy. A career change seems more and more likely.

My little white wharehouse shoes got hammered, they've come home an interesting shade of purple. Just as well they are machine washable :)

Nothing good ever comes easy. Though I wish it did.

Though in some ways I'm glad its not as then we'd all be slackers and laze around doing nothing all day.

I'm in some serious post work out pain after going back to the gym yesterday for the first time in a few weeks. I didn't make it while Isabel was in hospice - it was easy to hit up the stairs and clear my head. I'm regretting my slacking off quite a lot today.

Usually my breathing can't keep up with my fitness level (that makes me sound like i'm bragging, but i'm not, its just straight up facts) and I have to stop to breathe adequately. Yesterday I met my match. Pump class. Within the first 10 minutes of class I was all ready had it and regretting turning up and wondering how subtly I could pack up my step, dumb bells, weights and bar and leave without attracting too much attention. By midway through the class I was about ready to cry. By the end of class I was lying on the floor not even attempting to participate.

Today I am incredibly sore. Typing even hurts. Darn this competition! Why does my competitive streak come out in later years in life? Where were you all the years I attempted to get into rep teams and got turned down as I wasn't aggressive enough??

Considering pain relief, but as always I'm trying to detox. Considering a swim and a spa. Or perhaps just a spa. March 1, 2011 is so far away and attempts to sabotage other participants efforts are proving futile. Swim and spa it is.

End of a era

Today I put my car on Trademe. I'm quite stoked about this selling process as it..

A). Means I have bought a new car and an gleefully driving it around!

and

B). It's the end of an era I'm keen to see go.

I bought my ex boyfriends car when he moved overseas. It was a risk free buy, I was still covered by insurance, I knew how to drive it, it was an upgrade and it was very cheap. All good things when you are a student and have NO cash whatsoever and a car that is dying (literally... think push starting a car in the dark in the middle of Papakura when you are dropping youth group girls home).

But now that I've been working for a little bit and have some more money its been on my wishlist to upgrade. So last week I bought a new speedy car (which was also most of the above, but just 5 years newer and with less dents and not owned by an ex) which has been lovely to drive.

Now I can't wait to see this one go. Its always good to move on from ex's. Sometimes harder when you are driving their car. So its on trademe and people are bidding and I'm getting quite excited! check it out... http://www.trademe.co.nz/Browse/Listing.aspx?id=340433999 even bid on it if you wish!

School's Out!

This may have been the biggest anticlimax of the year! But school is officially out for summer and I have 7 weeks of holidays ahead. I've managed to be a good girl and save up enough to live comfortably all summer long! Wahoo! I can't remember when I last had such a long break... oh wait that was at uni when it was three months. But I usually had to work my butt off in a low paying job to scrap together some money for car repairs and heavy nursing texts books which gave you more medical issues carrying them than you could learn about.

Today is a day for celebrating and what have I chosen as the way to do it? Go for a 5km + run in Ponsonby, eat pizza, try some home brew and perhaps even a cocktail or two :)

I'm about ready to run and hide thanks.

What a year. I have to go back to work tomorrow and pretend to be a normal person again. I'm not looking forward to it. Though putting on that professional face and just pretending is sometimes easier to admitting all the broken bits on the inside. Emo much?

Considering packing up my bag next week, getting in and just driving. Perhaps quite a long way. With my cellphone turned off and no internet. Both terrifying and exciting. Perhaps also stupid.

The end of this week will be such a relief. Schools out, holidays start, home awaits, juices to be made (fingers crossed), Christmas trees to be put up, Bond girl bodies to find, swim squads, niece to cuddle, bridesmaid dresses to wear, beaches to get burnt at, tofu recipes to try. Lives to start.

Hello Summer. Please still be here when i get back.

Beetroot for the broken hearted

Grief is a weird thing. It cycles around. all my lectures on grief kick in and I found myself identifying which stage I'm in. I could almost write nursing notes on myself "Ginnie appears to be mainly in the denial stage of grief and doesn't appear to be coming out of if any time soon". Numbness is my friend. The time is passing and I'm not sure how. I've learnt the hard way that time heals so its rapid passing doesn't bother. Though I know the other 4 stages await me. I'm not keen to face them.

I'm cooking up a bit batch of roast beetroot for the week ahead. Its going to be my energy food. Eating is hard for me when I'm upset, yet things all feel more balanced when I do. Not too sure why beetroot is my weapon of choice.

Thank you for the many messages I have had from people. Sorry I haven't replied. I shall do later, once things quieten down.

~Gin

The last goodbye

Isabel died this morning.

It's almost 2am and I should be asleep, yet I'm dreading it.

I'm in this numb hurting stage where I've just lost one of my closest and best friends and its not quite sinking in yet. I don't know how to navigate this quite without her.

I got to say many beautiful goodbyes to her, the last being the night before she died. I took in my nailpolish box and took off the last of her nailpolish and got her fingers looking all pretty. Then got to hold her hand, sing her songs with her parents, read Isaiah and whisper the last goodbye.

The next wee while is going to be grief laden. I don't want to walk into that just yet. So i'm stopping in today for a moment more. Tomorrow I'll let the grief wash over me.

"We wont say goodbye.

This is not the end we know.

All who live must die,

but not all who live have truely been alive.

So I will celebrate your life,

Celebrate your faith,

Celebrate your love and the legacy we leave."

Phil Joel.

Miss you more than I know how to express Isabel. I hope heaven in just as we dreamed. Love Gin

Waiting waiting waiting

The tension of waiting for one of my best friends to die is pretty horrible. I am torn between the hope of her still being alive and the wanting her to be pain free and at peace. Its that tension, that horrible tension, for which there is no easy answer or way to cope.

I've had some beautiful experiences past few days though. I've seen a mum lovingly speak to a daughter and care unceasingly for her, no matter the toll. I've seen a husband comfort his young wife as she cares for her sister. I've seen friends in new lights. I've had generous hugs from people.

I've got so much love around me. God is near, and I find much comfort in that.

Goodbyes

Went and said goodbye to my friend today. Really hard thing to do. Despite it all it was a beautiful goodbye. It may not be the last. I'm so glad I believe in heaven. I told her I was going to look forward to dancing with her.

Hospice

My friend is moving to hospice today. I can't believe how quickly things have changed. 2 months ago we were laughing, trying on make up, talking about boys, careers, summer, overseas exchanges and dreams. Now its PAC pumps, blood transfusions and hospital rooms (and still a bit of chat about boys and high heels thrown in). This week keeping busy failed me and I'm grieving yet she is still here which sucks. I'm horribly aware of the short time that is left and the fact that we can't ever go back to what we had.

Despite all my training and lectures on end of life care I still feel horribly inadequate with no good words to say. This feeling of utter helplessness hurts so much. I'm such a do-er and a fixer yet there is nothing I feel I can offer. It's going to be a dark period of time.

Confessions

I happened to get myself involved in a little competition for summer. Its the "who can get the brad pitt in fight club/ bond girl body by march 2011" and it looks like its going to be a tough comp and ruthless as well. There are about 5 people currently doing, hopefully more to join in along the way. I'm stoked to be motivated and challenged (and to hopefully look like the bond girl of my choice come march).

Today though I've secretly given up on my training. Had white bread for tea and am about to tuck myself into bed with a dvd and large moro bar. Best part is... I don't think any of the competitors read this so I can get away with it scott free :)

Heaven thoughts

Been thinking a bit about heaven recently. Like how I hope its like a big wedding. With a feast, and dancing, lots of dancing.

Rainbow Juice

One of the best and worst bits about making homemade juice is seeing the variety of colours that you can made. Some juices are an evil vile colours (cue celery and apple juice left for 5 minutes prior to drinking) and others are beautiful rainbows that make me quite excited about life (cue below photos)

Its an apple, lemon, beetroot and carrot mixture. yum yum yum.

Energizer Bunnies

For the past month or so I've had an incredibly short attention span. I never realised how precious an attention span longer than about 12 minutes was until mine disappeared. Attention spans let you read books, they let you get lost in plot. They let you sit at the beach and just watch the waves crash in. They let you remember that you are baking and remind you that you still have things in the oven. They let you zone out and lie in the sunshine drinking it in.

Without an attention span you feel like you have ADHD. All over the place all the time, always running, your mind jumping from topic to topic, your brain never switching off. You talk too fast. You can't rest. You just go go go, like the energizer bunny clanging his cymbals together and you know that your batteries will die eventually you'll stop clanging so much, your arms will grow weary and eventually stop. Stopping sounds like bliss, but my only question is, is the bunny still breathing?

Stair master

Totara Park stairs x6 running. Take THAT stairs! And hello butt muscles I didn't yet know existed.

Half Marathon Beginnings

Auckland half marathon was a few weekends ago and once again I headed along to cheer all the whilse secretly wishing I was one of the ones being cheered on. Knees, knees, knees. You are not my friends. I also got challenged to run it next year. This may have been the persons post run beer talking, but I've been seriously considering it. Is it worth just training, doing it, perhaps thrashing myself and then just spend the rest of my life recovering? Are my knees just an old excuse keeping me in my safe non challenging bubble?

So what did I do post conversation? Rung my Mum. Who helpfully said "Oh i want to do the Buller half in Feb" and I found myself considering the timing and thinking, yeah I could do it. One book on how to run half marathons and a sparklying new pair of running shoes later I think I may have started training. The book talks about a really gentle easy approach which I think looks really doable. I dug out my old physio exercises which I'm going to try implementing into everyday life again and we'll see how this goes! So the majority of future blog posts may contain a lot of content about running.

Map My Run

Map my run depresses me.

If you've never used it, don't. You think you have gone for this amazing run and it must of taken forever and ever and gosh, isn't it cool how you are so much fitter than you were this time last year. So in a blaze of fitness freakiness you decide to map your run. You joyfully mark all the little markers on, trying to be exact with the corners and carefully marking in landmarks. And it tells you that your run was 4.35km long. And you were hoping it was AT LEAST 6, maybe 8. Cry cry cry. So you go back, extend the corners a little bit in hope of gaining extra distance. Still no better as the guilt tells you that really you cut many corners on the actual run and it was probably only 4km to start off with.

On the brightside, that's still 4km. I have two legs, they carry me. My body all works. I might buy new running shoes that don't. And there were at least 350 uphill stairs in that run.

Positive Playlists

I found myself exercising to Haste the Day the other day and I found this quite concerning. For those of you who don't know they are a Christian hardcore bands and much of the music is straight screaming. They are also a favourite band of an ex and I was listening to try and see what he saw. I did found a few I like (mainly the ones with the least amount of screaming possible) but for the most part they were not my favourite. Time to move on I think. Time to listen to what I like. So came home and I upgraded my playlist. They have been added onto my trusty iPod shuffle which is a the perfect size for clipping onto my running pants and holds just enough music to make it interesting. Now I wish I could tell you I bought unheard of but super cool bands that are funky and super cool and the new big thing so I can say in 12 months "Oh I heard of them first". But I can't. I'm always a bit behind with music and only like things once they are half bashed to death by the radio. So I bought songs from Katy Perry, Bruno Mars, BoB etc. I'm a sell out really, but I guess I was already sold out.

But on the bright side all the songs I bought have a wicked running beat which will power me through many tough stairs and make me into super woman.

Oh and if anyone has any great songs that you think I'll love and are good to run to, please let me know, I'm not too picky

Fireworks

Fireworks aren't really floating my boat this year. Typically I'm a little but of a pyromaniac and love watching them or holding sparklers, but in recent times the need to see burning things has dwindled. This year I just feel old as I hear the bangs. They strangely enough sound way too much like guns going off for my liking and invoke unhappy memories or scared times as a teenager.

I'm also acutely aware of the wastage of it all. So much money is spent on fireworks and so little people to enjoy them and they are over so quickly. I say spend money on fairy lights, that way there is way more enjoyment for all, without the wastage. Or we should be more community minded and get together and all watch at once and enjoy the shared-ness. Perhaps I'm not really getting old, I'm just becoming more of a hippy. Or I'm too stingy to buy my own fireworks as I'm coveting new running shoes and am attemtping to work the budget around to slot them in. But the hippy idea is taking my fancy... it goes better with the mung bean love.

Exciting things of today

Today lots of little things have made me feel happy today. Here's my list:

* Going for a run in the park at 9am with the sun shining and blue skies and feeling fit and healthy

* Intense smoothies with all my fruit requirement for the day in 2 glass fulls

* Sunshine to make you smile and dry my three loads of washing

* Shoe shopping for new running shoes and finding some winners

* Friends that give you awesome discounts and free protein shake shakers (cheers Adam!)

* Realising that I've actually got long hair now. I've managed to not cut it

* Natural curls as it's Saturday and not blow drying/straightening the heck out of it

* Trying on perfume and catching whiffs of it whenever you move your arm

* Wearing zero make up and still feeling beautiful

* Plans to head off to Bach'n for dinner with Naomi. Such great food combined with being at the beach.

Uncomfortableness

I've been a bit slack recently on posting. Maybe because I don't feel like I have much to say thats really all that worthwhile.

I've been on "keep busy" schedule. Busy means less time to think about all the things that hurt. I know its not the best way of coping and I'm going to burn myself out, but stopping to think hurts a lot and I find myself crying in quiet times. I don't know anyone who seems to do grief well, Jesus most likely did though, I know He wept. I wonder if He ever was tempted to shake his fist at God, to ask "Why God, Why?" on repeat and mutter rude words about the uncomfortableness of cancer. My view of Jesus and who He is in my life is growing and moving, hopefully into good directions. I hope that He is with me through my uncomfortableness, hating cancer as well and gently loving me through my fist shaking thoughts.

My flatmate has loaned me a book on Christian meditation. He said that extreme busyness is a fast track to depression. I don't know how he got all wise all of a sudden. I'm going to read it to fill that empty spot between getting into bed and sleeping, the most dangerous thinking spot of all. Then I can meditate while falling asleep. Perhaps the first step along the road to accepting this horrible tension.

Threats to invincibility

Sometimes in life you just have things that hit you darn hard. So hard that you stumble a bit, get knocked down, put on your best brave face, try to ignore those skinned knees and keep going.

This week I found out one of my really close friends has been diagnosed with advanced cancer and the doctors said months to live. I'm in shock. I keep hoping I wake up and its a bad dream. We are supposed to be invincable. The worst things to happen in out 20's are supposed to be failed uni papers, broken hearts, fights with family and crashed cars. It feels like we have only just started living, we have so much to look forward to and suddenly its all been stripped away to here and now for her.

This time I'm knocked down and can't quite get back up just yet. So I'm going to stay cradled in this space, nursing my wounds calling on God and sending my petitions. Please pray.

Fashion Woes

I like fashion as much as the next girl, but I get quite tired of being repeatedly shown pictures of models who look 'amazing'. I do think they look amazing, but I'm never quite sure if its truly what I think looks good or if its just what has been sold to me through the media so much that I now believe it and use it as my lens to view the world?

It's a ongoing tension as I do want to stay current and I enjoy makeup and fashion and hairstyles, but I want my gym time to be about putting good things in my life, not an ongoing slog to get impossibly skinny model legs, or my quick morning blow dry and swipe of eyeshadow to turn into a 45 minute mission with tears when it wont go right (and ruining the work already put in).

I've tried to stop reading so many fashion magazines as they always make me end up feeling like my imperfections are blaring out so much and should be fixed asap. And that I need to buy buy buy in order to fix them. Its not really how I want to live my life constantly feeling inadequate and self concious about myself and letting it get me down. But how do I change my views and live the life I want? One where I am a self confident person who embraces what God has given me and not hassle him about what He hasn't / give ongoing petitions to him about why he should remove cellulite as a miracle.

But easier said than done. NZNTM remains a firm top show for me, I still gaze longingly at the covers of Harpers Bazaar and hit the gym for spot reducing I know wont really work.

I also try to think on the bigger picture in life and put things back into perspective and not get so wrapped up in my own little world where I am the sun and all revolves around me and my sparkly nail polish. Sigh, easier said than done.

Sister Hang Outs

So my sister came and stayed the night with me last night. I don't get to have much hang out overnight time with her as she lives a couple hours drive away and is married, so it was an extra special treat. Everytime we get together we usually have a bag of 'goodies' for each other. Hers usually involves garden produce, knitted items, recipes, spices while mine is usually clothes that got a little small/big (we are almost the same size but not quite so it makes for good swaps), beauty products and hair products. But this time she had a pair of wait for it... black 3/4 tights. Win! Now I have 8 pairs!

2/3's of my way through my post grad cert

Assignment number 2 is done. Sent and hopefully never seen again. I've never handed in an assignment with unfinished bits, but as it was 38 pages long and 11, 900 words and I'd spent some solid effort (a couple of days getting up in the early morning on holiday and working on it in my pj's) on it getting it to that stage I figured enough was enough and sent it away. Fingers crossed it was finished enough.

Post Grad is always sounds exciting when work is a bit blah and you want to learn new things and debate ideas. And they the reality of 38 page assignments roll around and you start to kick yourself. My masters seems so far off!

leggings love

This week due to the warmer weather I found myself buying ANOTHER pair of 3/4 leggings. This is itself isn't so bad as they were $12 on special at Glassons. Then I stopped to count how many pairs I actually own. I managed to count up to 7. Needless to say I was a little shocked. Why on earth do I own 7 pairs of anything thing other than socks and undies?? How did I manage to end of with 7 pairs of leggings of all things (and shamefully enough one pair are jeggings of all things!).

Many women are quite anti leggings and think they are the ultimate fashion no no. I was of this group until I bought my first pair just under a year ago and wore them around. Its like wearing your PJ's except they make your legs look amazingly slim (within reason) and no one looks at you strangely at the supermarket.

Leggings are inappropriate for my workplace unless paired under a long skirt or dress so most of my legging time is at home or hitting up the gym (I have a dedicated 4 pairs just for wearing to the gym) and I love them muchly. Best multi wear item I currently have in my wardrobe!

Post Grad Contemplations

Today I was back at uni for a post grad block course. It made me feel so young again! It made me feel so... under grad like... Wearing the standard tight jeans, baggy shirt and cardie combo probably didn't help this feeling, nor the fact that I am young and I've only just finished my degree not so long ago.

I hate that feeling of just getting lumped back in with all the other students though. It makes me want to stand in the middle of the courtyard and yell "I graduated already! I have a really job! i'm just back here because I want to be!". However I suppressed these feelings while at uni because despite all my muttering about wanting to be an individual when at uni I really just want to blend in really and be one of the 'cool masses' and not stuff up. But that didn't stop me from tripping over a door stop while holding a cup of green tea in front of a group of people this morning... I think sometimes I just try way to hard and it results in more embarrassment.

But there are some really good things about post grad.

a. I don't pay for it - its funded through the government for me!

b. I still have my degree at the end of the day so if I fail, while not being so great wont mean a repeated year or too much shame.

c. It means time away from work and re-engaging my brain in thinking a bit bigger.

d. I've got a degree now so lecturers don't tend to talk down to you so much and sometimes you even know more about things than they do.

e. Everyone leaves their cellphones on in class and if I use mine I can blame it on work... not that I would do that...

And to finish this post off... check out one of my fav XKCD comics... I still have these dreams. http://xkcd.com/557/

Credit Card Chop

Like many modern day twenty-somethings I suffer from overspending. I earn a good wage yet every time pay day rolls around i'm always scraping at the bottom of the barrel and often, using my credit card for the few days before pay.

Its sucks. Why? Because every pay I get I have to put a decent chunk on my credit card and get no happiness for it. Usually I can't remember what the money went on, but it always added up.

I tried freezing my card Confessions of a Shopaholic styles in a block of ice in the freezer. The reasoning behind this was that if I really needed the card it was there but I'd have to go through the ordeal of defrosting it first. This worked well until I discovered how easy it was to defrost with the hot water tap on full blast...

So I reached the point where I'm sick of it. I wa

nt to go overseas yet all my money disappears and I'm not saving that much. So I decided to take some drastic action. End result?

Chopped.

Mung Bean Mania!

Another goody that I've managed to find energy for are making my own sprouts. My mum always made them as a kid and I loved watching them grow in our special sprouter. I can't remember about the eating aspect though!

Now I have a basic setup of an Agee jar and a special screw top lid to let the water out. I only

started the process on Monday and I already have edible sprouts! Win! I'm going to try sneaking them into various recipes and hope that the flatmates develop a love for them too!

Vegevege -Day 10

Ok, I'll admit. I cheated. I ate chicken. On pizza in very small amounts. I was out with friends and hadn't mentioned the change to vegetarianess and didn't want to pick off the pieces of chicken from the delicious homemade pizza. It made me feel a little guilty which was lame as I'm just trying this out for me. I have no points to prove, its just a change I want to make for my personal wellbeing.

Since the chicken incident i'm back on the wagon and am loving the new ranges of food i'm trying out.

Winners of the week include:

- Roasted chunks of beetroot. Surprisingly delicious, especially with a small amount of bestfoods.

- Finding what is dubbed "the special needs store" by friends on Dominion Road. Its a bulk food shop that sells all kinds of organic foods. I found carob buttons (childhood fav), dried apricots (the proper sour style ones that make taste explosions in your mouth) and dried bananas along with all kinds of other goodies. I should have taken the flat shopping list to see what I could have bought for general flat wellbeing.

- Finally making it into the Juicery and getting to try a raw chocolate smoothie with chunks of raw almonds. It was like a liquid dessert. So yum. Makes me wish for a better blender.

- Homemade fresh juice. I love my juicer. It brings me much happiness and wellbeing each morning. Though i'm sure the flatmates hate on it in the morning. Yesterday while attempting to shove chunks of pineapple core down the chute it made some terrible noises. My flatmate yelled out from upstairs to ask if I was juicing trees...

- Homemade Spinach, Feta and Pinenut Filo Parcels. Need I say more?

Running is my first exercise love

Running is my first exercise love. But sadly I end up with aching knees everytime I do it. The more I run the worse they get.

A couple years back I went to the physio about my aching knees. He said to stop running and start doing his prescribed exercises otherwise I’d end up like the majority of his patients and then proceeded to point out one guy in his waiting room with a knee bandage. He also told me that I had weak gluetal and quad muscles and that through strengthening them with 30 minutes a day of biking and prescribed exercises that they could get slowly better. He then proceeded to give excruciating leg massages to the point of hysterical laughing which was very close to turning to hysterical tears. I went away, bought an exercycle off Trademe for $1 (which wasn’t bad for $1 but I’m glad I didn’t pay more) which had no resistance so my legs spun useless around... went to the gym for a while on a trial membership but poorness stopped me from getting any further.

2 years on I still have sore knees. I wish they were better, but I really hate slow exercises. To me there is nothing worse than slow controlled exercises. Give me cardio any day.

Every year I vow to get them all strong and happy and do the Auckland Half marathon and every year I fail. I disappoint myself. I LOVE running but the thought of the exercises and 30 minutes on a bike each day just puts me off again and again.

So what do I do? Run anyway. Well semi. I go out with the aim of ‘walking’ and that usually changes to a jog. There is something really exhilarating about running. It makes you feel strong and powerful and like all life’s problems are conquerable. It’s also one of the best cardio workouts I can do. It also leaves me crippled up with muscle pain for a few days afterwards. Nothing bad enough to head to the physio for, but enough to stop me running again for a while.

I might need to get an accountability buddy and just hit up that bike at the gym.

Vegerama - Day Four

Yus! I have this down pat! I make veges look cool! I'm kicking processed food to the curb! I'm going to be super-vegerama-laye-de! Oh what... tough day at work? Feed me! Feed me chips! Argh. Seconds of glory and then fail. Oh well at least they weren't meat flavoured chips.

On the brightside, I'm starting to feel way lighter which is what I love about no meat. Your insides feel like they are bouncy and happy. Go figure!

PS. If anyone has idea on how to gain respect from teenagers when you are small and well semi vegetarian, tips would be appreciated.

Vege - Day three

Ever noticed how great meat can smell when its cooking? Its smells delicious. Perhaps it is delicious overall. I may be a horrible vegetarian. The other side is when its raw its really yucks me out. There is something about raw steak that looks way to cow-like and I reckon this is why I don't usually eat steak (combined with that grassy taste...).

On the upsides, I got to cook new and interesting foods and they were yum. Found out the secret to quinoa and couscous is to cook them in vege or chicken stock and they are palatable. I wish some of my flatmates over the years had known this... would have made some flat dinners a bit more interesting!

Time to go vege

I think people have stopped thinking that I’m weird and just started accepting me as Ginnie. It’s a good place to be. Though I went to KFC once with a friend over summer who blabbed to all my friends and they were genuinely shocked. It surprised me a bit, I harbour a secret love for the crispy KFC coating that I indulge about three times a year is that so shocking? People seem to always expect me to default always to the carrot sticks option in life. Sometimes this is inspiring and sometimes just plain annoying.

However, I'm attempting to go vegetarian again. It has been long enough now since the last attempt that meat is losing its appeal. The land of chickpeas and legumes beckons me with opening arms. “Come eat good food! Feel lighter! Start practicing what you preach a bit more!” Last time I attempted a vege month. However, due to my inexperience and lack of time I managed to eat a lot of the same food, as I only had a small handful of vegetarian recipes and I made them to death and then never wanted to see them again. I also didn’t prepare for the lack of ‘filling up’ that meat does and got quite hungry and ate a lot of nutella on white toast. This went against much of what I stand for in the way of good nutrition, but I was just so hungry and my flatmates at the time had a lot of bread and nutella available.

I’m not sure if I will set a time frame on this attempt. And I’m not sure if I’m going to call my attempt ‘vegetarian’ per say. One of my friends is vegetarian but says it doesn’t define him. He then eats sneaky pieces of meat on his pizza and doesn’t worry too much. I like the idea of this approach, it seems more life friendly.

I’ve also got a plan of attack, meaning I’ve got a list of recipes, have anticipated feeling hungrier and have money to buy suitable filler foods that aren’t totally processed and are marketed as a “healthy” chocolate sauce.

So the attempt begins! I feel a little bit hippy like already!

I'm a stalker.

Are you a stalker? Do you creep yourself out sometimes as well? Do you try to cover up your stalkingness to be less weird around your friends?

I sadly find the lives of my friends (and their friends, and their friends friends) waaaayyyy to interesting. I find myself reading random blogs, looking at photos of people I’ve never meet and never will, looking up friends of friends and pouring over details of their lives. I creep myself out. I find myself knowing random informative facts that I accidently let slip at times and find myself trying to make weird excuses.

But then in some ways, I figure if people are making themselves open to stalking, is there anything horribly wrong with that? If they have their whole world up on [insert cool computerised social medium] surely they must know that people will be looking and reading? Do they WANT me to look and read and inventibly envy them? Though I try to draw the line when I start thinking the “those people are way cooler than me” thoughts and try to switch off facebook/twitter/blogs/google and get on with my life (and start thinking up really cool facebook status updates that I can do from somewhere ‘exotic’ on my phone. Yup. I need a life.

Lonely Nights

Even when you get what you want in life you still have lonely nights. Nights where you need something more than what you have?

I don't feel its a spot that's missing God? And I don't feel its a spot that's missing a person per say. It's just a lonely place where bed and sleep seem to be the only answers.

Sweet Days

Some times in life you just have sweet days. Today was one of them. It rained on and off. My hair threw another hissy fit, I forgot to do my final coat of nailpolish, my outfit was boring, I didn't have enough time to make juice. But it was a good day. Makes me feel a little bit excited again for the future and things to come. Which isn't something i've felt in quite a while and it makes a fantastic change.

Sharpie Tattoos

Two months on and i'm still interested in the idea of getting a tattoo. Though all of the things from the previous post still apply and make it difficult to consider options. After a rather long facebook discussion on my status i've got a few tips and tricks to help me on my journey. I now have a 'tattoo' sharpie-d on my wrist. It catches my eye everyso often and makes me think about how much i may or may not love it. Exciting step. Must remember to wash it off prior to my meeting tomorrow... having a done tattoo is acceptable... however a halfwashed off, sharpie scribbed on 'tattoo' may not go down so well with the boss

Lessons I’ve learnt this year:

1. Be kind to your flatmates. Share you stuff, your food, your hair straighter, do their jobs sometimes. That way you have reciprocal rights. Like when your flatmate buys a GHD, or you run out of nutella, or you leave your washing out and it starts to rain, you have rights. Or I just have some pretty sweet flatmates. Or I’m the flat bully. I’m hoping it’s not the later.
2. Never close your eyes on the treadmill. Even if you want to see if blind people can run on the treadmill... and yes they can, the probably hang on though as that would prevent them from falling off.
3. Starting assignments early greatly relieves stress. Procrastination isn’t actually the funnest way of life.
4. Sometimes you get the short end of the stick. Sometimes you get the long. Both can be equally rewarding, and both can suck quite a lot, you learn a lot.
5. Don’t play push-the-button-tag with the garage door opener with flatmates. The chain will break. The door will fall. Garage door fixing men are not cheap.
6. If you harass the landlord enough he will keep his word and put in a dishwasher a year after promised. The persistent widow story does have a direct application into 21^st century.
7. Drinking too much carrot juice will stain your lips bright orange. And it’s hard to remove.

Juicy juice

Recently I meet a guy who owns his own juice bar in town and makes all kinds of delicious, raw, good for you juices (http://www.thejuicery.co.nz/). It resparked my interest in juicing once again.

I've long had a fascination with juices (thanks to my mum who I think may be a hippy in disguise), but sadly a few years back I went a bit OTT and made a apple, carrot, beetroot, celery juice and then to top it all off spooned in spirulina powder and gulped it down. Instead of giving me all day power and bright eyes it gave me all day nausea and turned me off juice for quite a long time (I haven't been able to do spirulina powder ever since).

So last week I pulled out the juicer, cleaned it and proceeded to juice all the leftover fruit we had. I've been mainly sticking to carrot, apple and lemon juices but this week got brave and added in a little bit of beetroot mixed with pineapple. I know people think this all sounds disgusting, but you'd be surprised at how sweet the juice is! The beetroot comes out this deep redish pink colour and reminds be of the traffic light drinks from cobb'n co (though not so raspberry tasting like).

I've been drinking a juice every morning for breakfast since last week. I haven't noticed a huge miraculous miracle in my life yet. Still darn tired, still sore muscles, skin still not crash hot. So I'm hoping the benefits will come out when I'm 60ish or so. Everyone else will be complaining of sore joints and I'll be skipping around like I'm 6 years old.

Working from home is an oxymoron

So this week I'm working on reports, polices and procedures from home.

And needless to say I'm finding this a bit of an uphill slog.

Home is quite lonely. I haven't had any human interaction all day and interaction with Charlie the kitten has been brief and not all that fulfilling.

Home has now changed from my safe haven to the place I'm quite keen to get away from. Is home only sweet when you are able to return to it? Or is it just made sweet by that fact? Or perhaps if Iwas home for reasons other than work, ie. leisure and I didn't feel guilty about time not spent productively working it would be a happier place.

Maybe tomorrow instead of setting up the kitchen table as my office I might trek down to my local library and enjoy silent/stealth communication with others and look forward to coming home to my haven.

Everyones getting hitched...

So I've gotten to that age in life when everyone around me is starting to get engaged/married/knocked up. It's a slightly scary place to be when I'm currently not keen to settle down, I'm more interested in seeing the world, having my own space (really this just means money) and having fun with a variety of people and not worry about having a significant other/dependant to rely on.

People ask me often if I have children and i'm not sure why? Maybe my clothes are a bit mummy like? Perhaps I just look like the type of person that has settled down with kids? In reality I'd like to look the opposite, like the type of person who has just come back from an exotic overseas adventure and has a weird new scar/accent/phrase/tan line/virus.

I feel equal a pressure from society/media/community to be both single and carefree and married and contributing to society at the same time.

Movies keep telling me two contrasting views:

1). I wont be complete until I have a significant other who does incredibly romantic things for me/rescues me/solves all of my problems.

2). Once I'm married I wont be that happy and will fight with my husband a lot and want more excitement, but my saving grace is my children who I love.

My question is... Is there a middle ground? Can there be some inspiring movies about young women who want to adventure first, not keep getting their heart broken, have no children and find happiness without a man? Or is that wishful thinking?

Even though no one will make a movie about my life, I'm going to try to above model for the next little while. Have fun adventuring, sorting out myself, solving some of my own issues and cuddle other peoples children until they cry and then give them back

wildbean fail

car = no warrant & no rego.

work drop with flatmate = 7:10 leaving time.

wildbean coffee = treat of morning

large decaf latte request = large normal coffee.

large normal coffee= trouble holding pen, dizzyness, nausea, loss of fine motor skills for a large portion of the morning and being awake at 12:58 to write a blog.

not my favourite friday.

Tattoo Loving

I would like a tattoo. A cool individual tattoo that is neither tacky or something I’m going to regret the instant I get it done. I keep seeing tattoos on these strong, fierce (as Tyra would say) looking women at the gym and its changing my views a little. However, If I were to get one, said tattoo must:

1). Be nowhere my parents can see until I reach a respectable mature age when I have the language and age to back myself up. Of the three things my mother made me vow not to do when I left home, getting a tattoo was one of them.

2). Be nowhere that peeks rudely out of a wedding dress. “And the bride wore white with a rose bud tattoo peaking out of her cleavage” is not my vision of beautiful.

3). Be something mysterious. Ie. Not something that a million other girls have... a dolphin/rose/cartoon character/lovers nameslashinitial and I think it should speak of your personality and character and be something meaningful.

4). Be something I love. What I love changes quite a lot. Sometimes I love blue, sometimes I love red, mainly I just love purple but it differs a lot. Said tattoo must be continuously loveable. Which limits it down a whole lot.

5). Be in a place that is not going to severely wrinkle and mutate with age/pregnancy/fat. Again, which limits it down a whole lot.

But in saying this all, I’m the sort of person who isn’t brave enough to dye her hair as change semi scares me. And I figure permanent tattoo is around 14 slots higher on the scare scale (buying a house, backpacking around Thailand, one day deciding to procreate are all things on that scale) and maybe I should start a little smaller.

One of those times when you realise how much of a winner your church is

Its been a pretty tough past week this week. One of the main highlights was realising that I really wanted to go to my church and be enveloped by my church community and just taken care of on a spiritual deeper, community level. Which is something I haven't felt in a while. And then to be feed vegan soup and large hunks of sourdough bread while talking with people 4x my age at a shared church lunch is one of those small joys I'm going to treasure and hold close through the next few weeks of tough times.

Trademe Dates

My mum rung me tonight purely to tell me that i should buy some awesome as drawers on trade me. And then convinced me that I should definitely have them in my life, and then proceeded to bid on them for me. The next 22 minutes included battling it out with 'poncho' who seemed determined to wait until they had 39 seconds to go before adding a measly dollar. My Mum tried to 'scare them off' off by going up to rounded figures. It must of worked as numerous countdowns and numerous page refreshes later, I'm now the proud owner of 2 matching wooden bedside drawers. They need a small touch up, but mum has also volunteered to send me up the needed bits and pieces to fix them up. And she (in true winning style) has agreed to pay half. Weird to realise that your mum is a bit of a trademe adrenaline junkie. Not a bad thing at all, it's a fun thing. And also really nice to still be taken care of by your parents, even when you've lived out of home for coming up 6 years.

So now I get to go pick them up and spend the next day rearranging my room and getting rid of my handpainted bright yellow and red drawers, which BTW, I still defend is a good colour choice, and no Dan, I would not have chosen different colours if I was to ever redo them!

Best ways to cope with work stress...

1. RPM. Hitting the gym and in particular hitting up a couple of RPM classes a week has been fantastic. For 45 minutes all that really matters is your legs going around as fast as they possibly can and trying to not draw attention to yourself from the intense instructor. It makes you feel strong. It makes your worries fade.

2. Cooking. Making super yummy nutritious meals that make my appetite come back are always a winning day to deal with tough times. Plus putting good food into your body gives you that awesome buzz and feeds you and boosts up your b vitamin levels for the next day.

3. Baths with goodies from Lush. Lush is seriously one of my favourite shops. Full of yummy smells and possibilities of smelling like that all over! I love their Ma Bar bubble bath, Honeymooner massage bar, Honey I shrunk the kids soap and Dream Time temple balm. All my favourite picks for a bath night. A glass of bailieys and milk makes it complete.

4. New nail polish. Superficial i know, but nothing beats down typing away at work and looking down and seeing little lilac nails glimmering away. Gets you through a Friday quick smart.

5. Watching The Devil Wears Prada. Preferably in bed. Or on pay week when you can dream about buying expensive handbags and boots. And lets face it, as tough as work gets it can't get much tougher than being forced to find flights home for Miranda Presely during a storm. Makes me feel better everytime. The Freedom Writers is also a winner, esp for teachers :)

A week of death

I was hoping that in my lifetime I could be one of those people who could escape the horrible things in life and just live sheltered and innocent. Or somehow God would just come along and fix all the horrible and crappy things that happen. But somehow I became a nurse and seem to now deal with all the things that have gone wrong in life.

This week was no exception with one of the students at the school I work at dying. What was an already stressful week with major reports due turned into an emotionally stressful week. I don't deal all that well with emotional stress, especially the pain of others. It hurts me on the inside and raises all types of questions that I can't seem to answer.

I've been trying to counsel these teenagers when at times I don't feel I have it any more together than they do. How does being a nurse make me any more qualified to deal with it than the rest of the world. All my millions of lectures in palliative care seem useless with confronted with masses of backpack wearing teenagers. I haven't done anything to guide the deceased along a pathway of care. There's no pathway for drowning, there is just death in all its fullness.

The death of a teenager seems to make a mockery of all I feel I'm about. It tells me I can do as much as I'd like to get them healthy, promote safe sex and non risk taking behaviour and yet the most innocent of things steals life. All my talk about water and lunch and sleep and staying safe and talks about suicide seem useless and pointless. I realise I'm just Ginnie. I can't save the world after all. And everyone just seems so much more fragile.