Have you ever found yourself stuck with someone. Someone you just can’t shake?

Of course you like me!! Don’t you remember this? Didn’t we do that together?

Usually it’s some friend. Argh.

I still don’t know one hundred percent, but I think it’s all about the pleasantries. You don’t want to be rude, and they just slide right back into your life again. What can you do? You don’t want to be rude.

Lately I find myself becoming more rude, more demanding, less filled with homicidal rage. It’s weird.

Call it conditioning, it’s all about reflexes with me.



Go away.

No exclamation point. But I can always add one later.

I guess we all have to learn some lessons. Given, mine have been extreme.

As a person who has had their sanity repeatedly called into question. I often find myself completely preoccupied about what those people and my family are doing and saying when they’re not talking about me.

Pure poison to think about those things you just can’t control.

I have known a person or two that thinks they know what’s best for me. I can’t afford people like that who are not professionals in my life. This is not volunteer work.

Given, my situation is extreme, but it’s that politeness that horrible conciliatory tome that weighs me down every time, and they just slide right in there on a chance. Really, that’s about it.

Being rude, put-downs. Criticism just might do it.

Remember, please value your time; whether or not you’re sharing it.

People like that in your life will have you running from crisis to crisis every time, that’s what I’ve learned.

Really. I would never do that thing: ‘of course you like me! don’t you remember?’

Blackmail. Emotional extortion. They might not get arrested, but they’re very very dangerous people to your emerging peace of mind.



Negative Feedback


It’s been a very long time since I posted on this site. I am sitting on my ass on disability and thinking too much. I have a boyfriend who is very *ahem* unpredictable and unfortunately doesn’t know this secret of negative feedback, no matter how many times I try to tell him. Maybe I’m too gentle about it.

Have you ever rationalized something? When you encounter something inexplicable or so overwhelmingly daunting, you might tell yourself a story. That story might save your ego to some extent, but it’s still a story. Sometimes it can save your life, but sometimes it stops you from adapting/changing.

Say you’re a consultant. Dreaming big and all that about how much of a success you’re going to be. At first, it’s great, you’re still dreaming big, but where are those #%&@ revenues? Maybe it’s about time you adjusted, either your model is flawed, or that line of work is really not for you. That’s when you put rationalization to the side.

The rationalizing you might say, it’s just because I haven’t approached the right people, surely success is right around the corner. You can tell yourself this up to a certain point, but at some point, you may have to make an acknowledgement. After all, your time is very valuable.

Back to that negative feedback. Right now my boyfriend is living on a fraction of what he used to, soliciting cash from all his connections to keep us afloat. Meanwhile, his work culture has become increasingly intolerable. He seems to keep forgetting this, but gets away from then at any given opportunity.

I just wish I could break him free of that miserable place where he spends most of his time. Maybe it’s because of us, this cycle of hustle and bustle, earning the time off to get away from a situation that is more within his control than he thinks.




My Mother and Jesus

My mother was a good Catholic girl from the Falls in Belfast. She lived at 37 Broadway with her family. She always adored her mother. Always underfoot. A bit clingy. She just wanted, and still wants, unconditional love.

She got a scholarship to go to a good school, St. Dominique’s where she had fun with the Catholic clergy, laughing at the nuns, making fun of her diction teachers, and making everybody laugh. Chasing unconditional love.

She grew up with an unquestioning faith.

It’s funny, but I don’t think she ever thought of the crucifix. Why wasn’t Jesus’ head leaning forward? Why did he look like a WASP?? A White Anglo-Saxon Protestant. He was born Jewish. He didn’t look like he does on the traditional crucifix.

When she first met the boyfriend fated to become my sister’s husband, all she could think about was Jesus and how much he looked like that crucifix.


It’s difficult to find vegetarian options in Paris for dining out. I saw some beautiful chantrelles in the market the other day, but I don’t know the best way to cook them, and I can’t figure out for the life of me how to turn on the stove!

Luckily, there’s a place where I can get the occasional veggie burger, plus I just discovered a wonderful falafel joint. I really enjoy baguettes, but it’s kind of hard to keep eating delicious cheeses, hummus, and/or veggies, and baguette, and nothing else for over a week!

My French is very sad. Like all situations where I don’t understand (or worse, understand a little!) I assume everything is about me, and negative. It’s exacerbated by the fact that it seems like the French are not like dour Canadians who reserve judgement…the French are very judgemental! It puts me on my guard.

I worry that I am not gracious enough, stylish enough, or so on!

It’s a very difficult atmosphere for those with paranoid tendencies.

Today I went to the Ile de la Cite and Montmartre, took some lovely photos. But I can’t help but remember what one of Paris’ famous permanent denizens once said of being a stranger and how people are strange….Image