TDTFYH

Here’s a non-recommendation that I’ll never forget.

My friend Greg had just watched the movie Slumdog Millionaire in the theatre and he was telling me all about it. From what I can recall, he enjoyed it quite a bit and his enthusiasm was very evident. When he was finished, I asked him, “should I watch it?” He paused for a moment and then said, “No. I don’t think you should.”

I appreciated that so much. I mean, obviously. I’m still talking about it twelve years later. What I found so appealing was that he actually considered the audience and weighed what he knew about me and my personal taste and decided he didn’t want to take on the responsibility of having me watch something he wasn’t sure would elicit the same response he had.

I take my recommendations seriously and I finally got a sign that I’m not the only one.

People in LA were always recommending things that were more about themselves than the recipient. They recommended obsessively – films, Netflix series – as though their association with a piece of media imbued them with sex appeal, intelligence, an irresistible whimsy. When I felt a recommendation coming on, I’d lie and say I’d already seen the thing: just so I didn’t have to hear the plot explained. Did anyone genuinely like anything? So much art was bad. I preferred the work of dead people. At least the dead weren’t on Twitter.

Excerpted from Milk Fed by Melissa Broder

I need to get devote a notebook to record how books end up on my TBR list. Sometimes when I read a book that I really love (or that I find super annoying or whatever) I wish I could trace my steps back and either beg the recommender for more or never take an offender’s recommendation seriously again.

Milk Fed by Melissa Broder

I think this is how I came across this book. I *adored* the book Milk Blood Heat by Dantiel W. Moniz (I posted about it here) so when these books landed in the same “milky” event (cute!) I looked into the one I hadn’t read and I knew I wanted to. Fast forward to a few months later and here we are. When I picked it up from the library, I knew I should read it first and once I started, it was done in a flash.

Rachel is twenty-four, a lapsed Jew who has made calorie restriction her religion. By day, she maintains an illusion of existential control, by way of obsessive food rituals, while working as an underling at a Los Angeles talent management agency. At night, she pedals nowhere on the elliptical machine. Rachel is content to carry on subsisting—until her therapist encourages her to take a ninety-day communication detox from her mother, who raised her in the tradition of calorie counting.

Early in the detox, Rachel meets Miriam, a zaftig young Orthodox Jewish woman who works at her favorite frozen yogurt shop and is intent upon feeding her. Rachel is suddenly and powerfully entranced by Miriam—by her sundaes and her body, her faith and her family—and as the two grow closer, Rachel embarks on a journey marked by mirrors, mysticism, mothers, milk, and honey

When we meet Rachel, it’s very evident we are going to be going on a journey together. She is obsessive about her eating and her body and her relationship with her mother (“I could feel her opening an emotional spreadsheet that began with the womb. This is why I never confronted her. Now we’d have to go traipsing through it together, call by cell, until I retracted everything.”) and, clearly, the only way to go is up.

Enter Miriam (who, right or wrong, I picture to be a lot like Zoey Barkow, Merritt Weaver’s character in Nurse Jackie) who is in all ways the opposite of Rachel. She’s connected to her family, she has appreciative relationships with food and a jovial demeanour. Yes! What an odd pair! She is so obviously the catalyst for our adventure!

It’s quite a ride to witness their evolution from acquaintances to friends to lovers and Rachel’s expansion and growth in that time. It isn’t always easy or fun, in fact, sometimes it is downright painful, but it makes for a great story.

I get a bad rap for being drawn to sad things, but there are many ways that I love love stories. I just don’t fit the norm because traditional is rarely one of them – and traditional, this story is not. Rachel and Miriam exist in a bubble that only the reader has the privilege to look in on. Theirs is a love story, but more importantly, it is a story of personal realization, power, and healing. Sure, there are some pretty extreme (read: unbelievable) circumstances and a few cringe-worthy sexual encounters, but I was able to forgive them in exchange for the enjoyment of rest of it. What makes this book so entertaining is the sharp, quirky and totally ridiculous/relatable Rachel.

If you’re sensitive to talk about disordered eating or distorted body image, steer clear of this book because there is a lot of both.

Given all my talk of recommendations, I couldn’t resist sharing a few. These are books that, if you loved them, would indicate to me that you should read Milk Fed (and I suppose this list could work in the opposite direction a là if you loved Milk Fed then you should read…):

• Sad Janet by Lucie Britsch
• My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Mosfegh
• Everyone In This Room Will Someday Be Dead by Emily Austin
• Temporary by Hilary Leichter
• Exciting Times by Naoise Dolan
• Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple (full disclosure, I will find a way to put this on every list, but it is very accurate here)

What is the name for this genre? Female protagonists who are kind of funny, but also pretty sad. My Bookstagram pal Troy calls it “unhinged female narrators/protagonists” and I feel like we could tighten that up, but I am so here every last word of it. Whatever you want to call it.

This is Melissa Broder’s second novel (yes, I have already picked up a copy of The Pisces from my library) and she has also published a book of essays and four poetry collections. She’s pretty active on Twitter and can also be found on Instagram. (She has a website, but it didn’t seem to be working when I tried it.)

P.S. I did eventually watch Slumdog Millionaire years later and I actually really liked it.

I finished month one of My Happiness Project and it went better than I’d expected. The theme was MAKE SPACE and I was able to find varying degrees of success in all the tasks I laid out for myself. Here’s where I wrote a recap about it yesterday.

I want to take a minute here to talk about how spending some time reviewing my last month has been super meaningful. Throughout January, I was feeling good about my progress, but when I started to think about having to qualify it, to prove it, my enthusiasm downgraded to ho-hum status. I knew I’d increased my awareness around how I’d defined making space, but I didn’t think about the bigger picture and how it had all come together. After writing about it, I woke up this morning with some refreshed energy and my appreciation for the work that I did really increased. Today, I feel pretty proud of myself for the ways that I changed through the work I did last month and when I asked myself if I feel happier, my honest answer is yes – and in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

This month’s theme is KEEP MOVING and, as with last month’s (and hopefully every month’s) theme, there are a number of ideas I’m targeting beyond the literal or the obvious. And since I feel pretty happy with how I spent my time and attention in January, I’m glad I chose to name this month KEEP MOVING instead of something like GET MOVING.

Movement, by definition, is a change of place or position and y’all know I love a change. Movement keeps things fresh, combats stagnation and embraces creativity. Movement can be literal, figurative or even spiritual when we consider the possibility of feeling moved by something especially touching or extraordinary.

I intended to include movement in one of my monthly themes – and I particularly wanted to include it early on – to max out the action. I didn’t move nearly as much as I had planned or wanted in 2020. I have friends who absolutely killed it in finding new ways to move or energy to move in the same old ways only more. I, on the other hand, embraced, nay, relished, the stay at home directive and quite literally did not go out. This brought my running and even my daily step goals to a grinding halt, but what can I say? I was happy.

So, the idea is to coordinate all that into some good and inspiring daily or at least regular tasks. Here goes.

• Continue running. We’re four weeks into a training program that is amping up quicker than I am comfortable with, but I’ve been sticking to it and I plan to continue to do so.
• Commit to a step goal. I don’t think I ever posted about my 20 for 2020 list, but one of the goals on there was a daily step goal of 5000 steps. It isn’t a very lofty goal for me. Sometimes I end up with 4-5 times that many, but this goal isn’t about the regular days. It’s about the days when I am not doing anything. I love a super quiet weekend day at home with nothing but a book and my 5K steps goal was meant to nudge me out of those days for a quick walk around the block. So, my step goal has been at the same totally achievable place for the last thirteen months and in the spirit of creating change and getting a little uncomfortable, I’m upping it to 7500. (I may have contemplated 10k steps per day, but this rainy weather isn’t very inspiring. Maybe in the summer.)
• Move my body in different ways. This is a little bit cross training and a little bit accommodating the continuing encouragement (coupled with my desire) to stay at home. Also, the aforementioned rain. So, beyond running and meeting a daily step goal, I want try some other movement options. Possible candidates: light weight training, yoga, barre, dance and anything else that gets my attention. It could be solo or accessible by pre-recorded steaming or live Zoom events. Let me know if you have any suggestions.
• Take the stairs. We do this sometimes, but usually only when we’ve been waiting for an elevator for too long. I’m going to try to remember to go out with the intention of taking the stairs. Since we can only go down (our floor access doors are locked from inside the stairwell) it doesn’t seem like that big a deal, but with multiple stairwells that access different floors, I get a little freaky about it.
• Don’t get stuck. I’m particularly fond of this goal and I’m excited to execute it. If any of my goals could double as a mantra, this is the one. This is about all the annoyances and complaints and imperfections and things that aren’t going as planned, but nobody will deal with, the things that don’t work and the relationships that break down and the voices that grate and the energy vampires. I’m not going to get stuck on any of it.

Note: I really wanted to include something about bowel movements in there, but I just couldn’t find a way to incorporate it. 😛

Here are the additional carryover tasks that I practiced in January and will continue to work at throughout the rest of the year:

• Declutter. 
• Simplify my calendar. 
• Schedule time to do the things I want to do. 
• Eliminate unnecessary commitments. 
• Do one thing at a time. 
• Let go. 

What do you have planned for February? Are you starting any new goals or aspirations? Have some from the new year still going strong? I want to hear about them!

When I got a text that said, “You came to see Valerie Harper with me and my sister, didn’t you?” I knew what that meant. I immediately felt that she must have passed away, but I waited for that confirmation text that came minutes later.

Yes, I’d gone to see Valerie Harper with my friend Rebecca and her sister, Ginnie. It was Ginnie’s idea because after a handful of meetings, we’d stumbled upon our mutual love for the Mary Tyler Moore Show and, especially, the spin-off, Rhoda.

When Rhoda’s appearance in Vancouver was announced, Ginnie orchestrated our trio’s attendance and we all relished the life experience she was so willing to share. It felt like we were in the presence of a true icon.

We continued to text back and forth last night – about that event, about the cancer she’d survived and about her death. At one point Rebecca said, “that was a while ago.” She was right, but I couldn’t put my finger on when. It could have been as long as a decade and, honestly, it could have been longer.

I looked through my Instagram feed because I’d secretly stolen an illegal and crappy camera phone picture of Valerie Harper sitting on stage. Turns out, I didn’t post it.

I tried to google Valerie Harper appearances in Vancouver, but as always when a rush of articles pop up after a famous someone’s death, there was no way to cut through the news articles.

Finally, I thought I must have tweeted something about it so I entered the perfect coordinates to find my way back into the search bar: Valerie Harper @carlyrigby.

Two results.

The first was the requisite article leading up to the event (here’s a link to the tweet.)

The second was a celebration of the night we’d had (here.).

It felt victorious that I was able to finally put my finger on when we’d done that. As you can see, it was April 2015 when we saw her, almost 4.5 years ago.

I felt a rush of gratitude that I have tweeted so much of what I’ve thought, seen and done over the years. I found a new appreciation for how I’ve been documenting my life without fully recognizing that it’s what I’ve been doing. As much as I’ve wanted to be someone who journals, it’s just never stuck and my feelings about calendars has varied over the years. Sometimes I’m into keeping them, sometimes I’m not.

I started to notice earlier this year that my historical information wasn’t being saved in my Apple calendars and it made me kind of sad, but also kind of annoyed. At the time of discovery I’d been looking for some somewhat important medical timelines and because I couldn’t search the appointments, I couldn’t put a finger on when they’d occurred. I can’t remember how I eventually sorted it out – could have been a clue on my blog or perhaps email – but I did while at the same time becoming aware that I needed a better process. I want to know what I was doing on this day last year and all the years before that. I also want to be able to tell when it was that I did a thing.

In the meantime, since that realization, I hadn’t actually done anything about it. This morning, in a fit of brutal honesty, I admitted that as much as I love paper, that wasn’t going to be where I could keep up a personal history. Notes? Yes. Sporadic thoughts? Yes. Strategy? Yes. But not records. I get too bored too fast to keep up with the same thing for more than a few days at a time.

Having long standing social media and an active blog do give me a leg up, but there is plenty I don’t (and don’t want to) share publicly. Some because it’s too personal, some because it’s too boring.

Knowing that I wanted more, I started by searching diary apps. I thought that if I could have someplace I could write, save photos, video and voice memos, that would be ideal. I want the freedom to add as much or as little as I want. I want to be able to search it and I’d like to be able to download it as well. I relied on this article for guidance in where to look and I’ve actually decided to try using three different apps to see which one I like the most. I’m trying Day One, Penzu and Momento.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

How are you the historian of your life? How do you keep a record of your adventures?

I’ve been feeling them. Hard. No. More like haaaaaaaaarrrrrrrd. I have been struggling to get back into regular life, back into working, back into chores, all of it. I have had some times when I really wondered, am I okay? I felt out of sorts, unable to meet my minimal expectations of self-care. And I’m talking bare minimum – eating, sleeping, moving. I was unable to do any of it to my satisfaction. I’ve been going through my work routine and feeling exhausted by the monotony, challenged by the menial tasks. I wondered how I was going to get back into my routine and what happened to my job satisfaction and the rewarding feeling I get from doing my everyday tasks. I would try to focus my feelings, to breathe through my frustrations and find the bright side of the circumstance. I’d say a little prayer that the things coming at me would get easier to deal with.

Turns out that was the opposite of what I needed.

Because right at what should have been the end of my day today, something really challenging was thrown at me and I, in turn, threw myself into it.

And guess what happened. I got my groove back.

This evening, in the glow of being once again engaged, invigorated and excited about my work, everything was different. I felt better adjusted overall, doing the right thing for my mind and my body made sense and I really started to feel like myself again.

What a relief.

I’ve got myself into this habit where I don’t start writing my daily blog post until it’s nearly bedtime – or sometimes it’s actually bedtime. It’s become my tendency to leave it until the very last thing in the day – after I’ve washed my face, after I’ve brushed my teeth. Do you have any idea what that does for creativity? Or the feeling of fulfilment when you’ve done something worthwhile? Yeah, it sucks the ever-loving life out of both.

I need to come up with a new strategy. I need to come at it from a different angle. I don’t exactly know how to tackle that because often this time of night is one of my only chances to catch my breath, to take my mind of of a list, to have a few minutes to slow down and think of putting thoughts into words.

Everything is possible. I just need a new approach.

Kevin will be home in the morning and I’m looking forward to that. I’m not as good to myself when I’m alone as I am when he’s around. Also, I miss him.

My first day back at work went remarkably smoothly, but I was there late and brought a mild headache home with me. I’ve come to accept that’s how it goes when I am back in the office after an absence. Catching up on the action, the voicemail, the drama – it can really take it right out of you.

Thankfully with the groundwork I laid today, tomorrow will be a fresh start.

There are a couple of major influences happening in my internal world right now. One, as stated above, my home alone status is really starting to sink in. Two, I go back to work tomorrow. Neither of them is terrible on its own, but let’s just say, they’re on my mind.

I love being alone. I often tell people that if I didn’t force myself to go out, I could stay home for far longer than would probably be healthy for me. I might not ever get social again. Seriously. Everyone says that, but I actually mean it. I’m convinced I could stay home for weeks. But here’s the thing: I need Kevin here, too. If he’s out working or at a game or with friends, he at least comes home later. If he’s gone for a few days, it’s just so boring around here. And it seems like he’s going to be away a lot more with some recent opportunities that have come his way.

I also love my job. There are a few people I am really looking forward to seeing tomorrow. What I’m not looking forward to: setting an alarm, being confined to my office, wearing proper clothes. I’m also not really feeling the I have to go to bed at a decent hour (aka now) business that goes along with it.

I think it would be really great if I could have totally flexible hours and they’d probably even end up looking just like my already somewhat flexible hours, but not having the annoyance of structure feels heavenly right now.

Today, I went to Car Free Day in Port Moody. A few friends had booths there and I wanted to check them out, also it was nice to get out to my old ‘hood.

It was a good vacation. We had a blast in Toronto and I miss Summer Slam so much. I read three and a half books, two that I absolutely loved. I had a little time to fully relax without any obligations, to reset before getting back into the groove. I even came up with a few solutions for problems I’d put on the shelf when I left the office.

But as usually happens, I’m starting to look forward to our next trip, just over six weeks away from now.

Let me first admit that I am not someone who wants to be up in my neighbours’ business any more than I want my neighbours up in mine. I like knowing people to say hello and smile at, but I don’t usually get much closer than that. I have made friends with people in my city and I think it’s fun (and so typical of this city’s character) to see people I know when running errands or being out around town. It’s nice to have a chat in the grocery store or while grabbing a coffee, but there are only a few locals I spend time with. I don’t mind it that way.

I’d describe the local community as somewhat tight knit. When there is an event in the community, it creates a good buzz in local businesses and on social media. On a day when an event takes place, expect a lot of tweets telling you what’s going on and a ton of Instagram stories showing you.

A few of our biggest events:

• New West Pride
• Hyack Festival Parade
• Columbia StrEAT Food Truck Festival
• Recovery Day
• Riverfest

I’m sure to have missed a few others.

We also have plenty of regular events that happen year round. Events like:

• New West Farmer’s Market
• Pecha Kucha New West
• New West Craft

This is a city that prides itself on having many community focused events designed to appeal to all walks of life. Just today, my Mom and I walked over to our city’s Pride Festival. While most of the continent is celebrating Pride month in June, Vancouver holds its annual Pride Parade on the Sunday of BC Day (August) long weekend. Here in New West, we hold our Pride festivities a little later, in this year’s case, they started a week later with events throughout the past week, the main event being the Pride Street Party on Saturday afternoon/evening (tonight.)

The main street through town was closed down to traffic and opened up to three stages of entertainment, tons of vendors, organizations, a handful of food trucks and even a wrestling ring for Royal City Wrestling performances. The street was pretty crowded with people having a great time and it was a really nice atmosphere to be in.

I’m not sure if there were fewer events like these when we were younger or if it’s just something we didn’t do, but Kevin and I will attend anything. We’ve wandered through street fairs in a number of cities while we’ve been traveling – a farmer’s market in Victoria, a night market in Daytona Beach, a sweets festival just last week in Toronto, to name a few. I’ve said it before, I know, but it’s one of my favourite things about us – I am enthusiastic to try anything and Kevin is laid back enough to go along with it.

Tomorrow, my Mom and I are going to take on a community event in her neighbourhood, my hometown. More on that later, but in the meantime, check the listings in your local area and find something to attend. You might just decide that you like it.