tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86057572024-03-13T13:46:06.551-06:00My Life in a NutshellCarmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.comBlogger1054125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-60761886978266117372019-09-04T21:09:00.000-06:002019-09-09T21:10:57.509-06:00On Breaking Up...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was happy. I was in an (undefined) relationship. My first in over five years. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I’d made some major adult decisions, and was okay with them (cancelling my “once in a lifetime” trip because I just didn’t feel like I’d be in a good enough financial place to make it happen). Getting my line of credit debt down. You know... adulting...</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then...</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The relationship ended. I got the “I don’t have time for more than this in my life”, which I interpret to mean that the relationship either needed defining (we were exclusive, but weren’t at a time where we were doing things like making life decisions with the input of each other or anything) or ending. He wasn’t ready for more, after coming from a marriage that ended in adultery on the part of his ex-spouse that I still think he was dealing with. Or not dealing with as it may be. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I felt the demise over the course of a week. We were on vacation together (one of those decisions that I regret now, but at the time also knew it would make or break the relationship), and throughout the week, he continued to pull back with each passing day, until the end, when we returned home, he couldn’t help me pack my car fast enough for me to go to my place. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I knew then, but still had a faint glimmer of hope that it wasn’t over and that he just needed time, that it was over. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Two weeks later, after random ghosting and a complete lack of communication, came the “we need to talk” chat.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It lasted all of five minutes, of which I think four were us sitting there in silence. I didn’t cry, but I certainly didn’t express my feelings, as I was fighting the frog in my throat the entire time. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Since then, I have been experiencing some of the worst anxiety I’ve ever had. I’ve struggled with mental health for much of my adult life (and probably before then too, I just either don’t or choose not to remember or didn’t know how to define things), and had gone off my meds when the going was good. And sadly it takes three or so weeks to have those meds start working again... and those three weeks have been the last three weeks. I started taking my meds the day I got back from our vacation. I knew I’d need their help. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It’s so bad that I’ve cried at work. Multiple times. I have great friends that have offered support, but I haven’t really taken them up in the offers. I’ve hermited myself. I’ve spent the last three days in bed. The mornings are rough. I can’t escape the feeling of dread until around lunchtime each day, which really sucks given that I’ve taken to getting up between 3 and 5am each morning. That’s a long time to lay there with your heart and brain racing. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And I started counselling. I know I can get through this, but I don’t want to ever enter into another episode like I’ve had the past three weeks without some techniques to deal. As I told the counsellor, I don’t feel hopeless, I feel helpless. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I’ve started meditating. Meditating has been able to get my body calm, but it hasn’t been able to calm my mind. I’ve run every conversation we’ve had through my head dozens of times. With this anxiety has also come work anxiety - normally it wouldn’t be an issue, but I’m just so overwhelmed right now. I question everything I’ve done. I stress over all of the stuff I need to do. My high standards are working against me. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What if I’m alone forever?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What if I never find anyone that accepts me as me, with the flaws that I have, but also with all that I can offer?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What if I can’t shake this feeling of dread and despair? The feeling that there is something wrong with me?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I know I can be happy with myself. But I also know that I can be happy with someone right for me. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What if that person is out there, but I never find them?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These are not things I expected to be grappling with in my forty second year, especially because it started off with such promise... the beginning of a relationship. </span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-86101439160746346182018-07-10T12:00:00.000-06:002018-07-10T12:00:37.780-06:00Nicholas Sparks Movies are my Kryptonite<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's true... my name is Carmen, and I am somewhat addicted to Nicholas Sparks movies.<br />
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They're my go-to on a plane... partially because I've seen them all, so don't mind falling asleep while watching, and partially because I love a good love story.<br />
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I also wish on a fairly regular basis that my life mirrored a Nicholas Sparks movie... but sadly, that has yet to come true (although if having that one lobster for you is true, I may just get a movie deal yet!).<br />
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So, I've decided to rank all of the Nicholas Sparks movies on a completely arbitrary scale - basically I'm ranking them as I'd like them to be my life - from "worst" (but there really is no worst - I just think they have a crappy ending) to "best" (I know none of these films are Oscar worthy, and I'm totally okay with that).<br />
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11. The Best of Me<br />
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This one is the worst strictly because of the ending... cause really - James Marsden with sexy salt and pepper sideburns? That really should make a movie, IMHO, but death does not.<br />
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10. The Last Song<br />
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I know Miley and Liam are a real-life couple... but I just didn't buy it. Plus, I think Miley has gone off her rocker too many times, and I can't get past that.<br />
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9. Dear John<br />
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I'm all for the story... but again, I'm just not a fan of one of the main characters - Amanda Seyfried. Oh - and Channing Tatum spent waaaay too much time with his shirt on.<br />
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8. Message in a Bottle<br />
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I just don't really buy Kevin Costner in a romantic movie. He's a bit too awkward for my liking. The story is rather unbelievable, but that's what makes a Nicholas Sparks movie.<br />
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7. Safe Haven<br />
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I like Julianne Hough. I like Josh Duhamel. But I didn't really like them together. But of course, as with most Nicholas Sparks movies, the characters overcome adversity and fall in love...<br />
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6. A Night to Remember<br />
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This was the only movie that I had read the book first. The bad boy in town falls for the church girl... cause of course! The reason it ranks as low as it does is because of the ending - while it works for the story, I don't like that it made me cry.<br />
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5. The Notebook<br />
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I love the story... I really do. I love the little twist that makes your heart swell the first time you watch it. I know the movie would top so many lists - maybe it's because I've watched it so many times? <br />
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4. The Longest Ride<br />
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A cowboy falling in love with a sorority girl? A cowboy that lets the sorority girl keep his cowboy hat? What is not to love. And I love a good ending - and this movie has it.<br />
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3. The Lucky One<br />
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This movie makes me want to find a picture or a hot stranger to track down and fall in love with. The steamy love scenes are some of the best. Zac Efron is HOT.<br />
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2. Nights in Rodanthe<br />
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Maybe it's because of the older characters... maybe it's because of Richard Gere playing kind of a grumpy guy... but I loved how the characters helped eachother heal.<br />
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1. The Choice<br />
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Sure... the story line is kinda the same as all the others. But throw in a Southern accent and puppies, and I was sold that true love really can conquer all.</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-1285961928172003862018-07-09T11:02:00.001-06:002018-07-09T11:02:53.229-06:00Soul Mates? Lobsters?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I sit here... aged 41... single... and wondering...<br />
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Is there such thing as a soul mate? Is there that one lobster out there for everyone?<br />
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And what if that lobster got away? Or you didn't realize that lobster was for you at the time?<br />
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I've been dreaming lately of a guy from my past. One that I haven't seen in a solid 18 years. Yet, when I dream about a guy, it's about him, and it's a super realistic dream.<br />
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It's unnerving. I don't want to be thinking about this person. I don't know this person in a post-university setting - I don't know what kind of person he's come to be. Heck - I don't even know if I remember what he was even like back in the day. <br />
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It's been 18 years.<br />
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But I do know that he's been occupying my thoughts - a lot.<br />
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More than anyone that you haven't seen in 18 years should.<br />
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Maybe he was my lobster? And he got away.<br />
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I'll probably never know.</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-13802319842594165422018-02-07T18:45:00.001-07:002018-07-10T10:11:50.039-06:00Becoming Irish... a Tragic Story...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So it seems that becoming Irish isn't really as easy as it seems. Becoming British was no problem whatsoever - this whole Irish thing? It's shite.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 1 - find out that to claim Irish citizenship, and therefor then be entitled to a passport, one needs to pay 300 EUROS to register as a foreign birth. <span style="background-color: white;">€300 is like a billion dollars Canadian (okay, about $500 Canadian)!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 2 - begin ordering about a billion birth/death/marriage/divorce records from three different countries to the tune of about $200.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 2b - realize that your last name has about a hundred different spellings in Ireland, and that if you have an O' name, the O' may or may not be on official records throughout time, and that it seems the English just added an O' to the last name of anyone who emigrated from Ireland.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Step 3 - realize that while you did order a tonne of records from Ireland, you did it for the wrong John O'common-last-name-in-Ireland (to the tune of </span></span><span style="background-color: white;">€20 each</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">!), and have to re-order them for the right John O'common-last-name-in-Ireland.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 4 - try and figure out the date your biodad died so that you can order a copy of his death certificate (we'd been estranged since I was a teen, and only knew the month/year of his death), and then when you get the death certificate, find that he's assumed his mother's maiden name as his last name, so his birth certificate and death certificate don't match. Contact the Vital Statistics office to see if a formal name change was made, and they can't confirm or deny because why I want the information is "not on the official list of reasons they'd give out that information", but can confirm that at the time of his death, you could basically have whatever name you wanted on your death certificate. So yeah, that really helps me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 5 - realize that when you finally get the English death certificate of your grandfather (hello O'), the day/month match to his birth certificate, but his year of birth does not match. But, you can tell it was your Aunt Tina who "picked up the body" so-to-speak, so you know you're dealing with the right John O'common-last-name-in-Ireland. Bonus - at least the birth certificate year of birth matches what would be the age he was when he got married - because why have birth years on marriage certificates - just write down the age they were when they got married. That's scientific.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Step 6 - email the Honourary Irish Consulate lady with your concerns that you now have a very expensive stack of birth/marriage/divorce/death certificates that may be completely useless given the number of anomalies between them, and hope that she can help so that you don't pay </span></span><span style="background-color: white;">€300 for</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"> nothing.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 7 - whine, moan, and bitch on Twitter because you had a deadbeat dad who isn't good for anything even in his death because he was probably trying to avoid paying taxes or something and switched his last name for nefarious purposes.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 8 - make dinner, because, well, what else is there to do?</span></span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-6905383788302315072018-01-29T23:35:00.003-07:002018-01-29T23:35:42.632-07:00Back In My Day...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When we were done our business in the bathroom, we had to flush the toilet on our own.<br />
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Now kids have self flushing toilets, but yet they still leave toilets full of piss and toilet paper for the next person to enjoy.<br />
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Five bathroom stalls at work, and two had toilets full of piss and toilet paper. How fucking gross. <br />
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For the love of all that is holy, when you’re done your business, and after the toilet SELF FLUSHES, take a look to make sure it took all of your piss and shit and toilet paper.<br />
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#curmudgeon</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-91610900627103108262018-01-22T10:57:00.000-07:002018-01-22T10:57:21.396-07:00Terminology I Just Don't Get<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievsocfuyWer_LPL7l-PcSZhkIGuUpIEGcSWiU0C2qeFx2OFzzmmX_-0gsEpHd52ndg0cuU5emkFFy-8KEA-foGYjSYk_ie9OxeTFNHkbBvi0w-kk5uMAJJxKDKgA6l5-r_ecE/s1600/IMG-9540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievsocfuyWer_LPL7l-PcSZhkIGuUpIEGcSWiU0C2qeFx2OFzzmmX_-0gsEpHd52ndg0cuU5emkFFy-8KEA-foGYjSYk_ie9OxeTFNHkbBvi0w-kk5uMAJJxKDKgA6l5-r_ecE/s640/IMG-9540.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<i>Accidental drug overdose.</i><br />
<br />
Is the accident that they took the drug, or is the accident the death that occurred from it?<br />
<br />
I'm pretty sure most drug users don't plan on accidentally dying, but they also <br />
don't accidentally take the drugs either.<br />
<br />
If you take drugs, there should be nothing accidental about your death, if and when it happens.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Drug use (not by me... I've never even smoked pot!) and the ramifications of its use have been on my mind all weekend due to some recent events. I'm mad. I'm sad. I'm angry. <br />
<br />
In the end, drugs may not kill you, but they can still really fuck up your (and others) lives.</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-6959364714475925862018-01-19T16:12:00.005-07:002018-01-19T16:13:55.566-07:00Recapping my 2017 Travel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgfA81yS3lB_4M7oFv1-8wNulzsSVJTtA-kdxauxng0o-PKBD9SAZvnFi2SNC1n4aQrl3e5gFrASBxu9hBZ95YEJVxoRpSxjC5iAbs2verqeFeZjxGUcCXYO8r3Wzx93NEJeP/s1600/IMG_0207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgfA81yS3lB_4M7oFv1-8wNulzsSVJTtA-kdxauxng0o-PKBD9SAZvnFi2SNC1n4aQrl3e5gFrASBxu9hBZ95YEJVxoRpSxjC5iAbs2verqeFeZjxGUcCXYO8r3Wzx93NEJeP/s640/IMG_0207.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Playa Jac<span style="background-color: white; color: #6a6a6a; text-align: left;">ó</span>, Costa Rica 2017</span></td></tr>
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In the past year, I've travelled to Vietnam (my luggage didn't seem to want to travel there with me though, as it took three days to show up!), Cambodia, Thailand, China (albeit on a brief flight stopover), Costa Rica and Panama.<br />
<br />
I plan on doing a recap of each place, but I'm unsure of how much detail to put in. This isn't a travel blog per se (although with the amount of travelling I do, it really could morph into one if I had the drive to keep up with it), but I think people do find my blog based on country/city Google searches - do people just want to see pictures, or would a little more msubstance be appreciated?<br />
<br />
Things I've thought to put in travel recaps are a review of my accommodation, how I got around (how easy transit way to navigate - that kind of thing), whether or not I'd recommend the touristy sites I saw, and any neat tidbits that I think people would be interested in.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'll do a couple of detailed posts and see if anyone actually reads them. If not, I'll just go back to pretty pictures!</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-4808267765259121772018-01-17T14:12:00.001-07:002018-01-17T14:12:37.493-07:00Keeping up with the Joneses<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I live in a city where keeping up with the Joneses is seemingly everyone's favourite pastimes.<br />
<br />
It seems to be all about the Louis Vuitton handbags, BMWs, granite countertops and travelling the world. <br />
<br />
But I wonder who out of all of these Joneses can really afford it?<br />
<br />
There was a story on the <a href="https://globalnews.ca/news/3962467/credit-card-debt-savings-canadians/" target="_blank">Global TV</a> this week that 48% of Canadians were within $200 of not being able to pay their monthly financial obligations, and that a rise in interest rates could cripple them.<br />
<br />
I see that 48% being from two very different groups - those working poor, that budget their money to the penny (well nickle, Canada doesn't have pennies anymore), and those that have made the decision to live far beyond their means, and now may have to pay (literally) for it.<br />
<br />
Just because someone is approved for a $700K mortgage, doesn't mean that they have to spend that much. Just because someone wants a $250 pair of Blundstones, doesn't mean they need them. Just because someone wants a $50K (bottom of the line, so they're really just paying for the name anyways) BMW, doesn't mean they should buy it.<br />
<br />
Spending within your means will mean that if/when interest rates go up, you won't be bankrupted. It means that you can save for the special things you want, or to pay for the experiences you want to enjoy.<br />
<br />
But living within $200 of not being able make your monthly debt obligations for those making a decent living, is ridiculous.<br />
<br />
Stop trying to keep up with the Joneses. The sympathy I have for someone making double what I do complaining that they are house poor sits somewhere between slim and none. </div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-84844028814751642542018-01-16T15:38:00.001-07:002018-01-16T15:38:48.628-07:00Hello 2018!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well, hello little piece of the internet that I redesign every 18 months or so, write a post that eludes to me needing to use this space as an outlet, only to not log into for a few months at a time!<br />
<br />
My Twitter friend Michelle (who I'm sure I *met* over blogging back in the day) has recently started a new blog <a href="http://blog.100daysatati.me/" target="_blank">100 Days at a Time</a>, and since I'm a big, giant follower, I'm using her blog as motivation for me to write more. And like her, I can promise there will be some rants. Some small. Some epic. Rants are my favourite.<br />
<br />
What's new with me? <br />
<br />
Well, I've booked trips to New York City and to the Southern Caribbean for the Spring. Last year I visited six new countries, and didn't blog about a single one of them. I've joined a DietBet. I'm still single (and for the foreseeable future, that fact ain't going to change). I'm still trying to reinvent myself as a minimalist, but without being overly minimal.<br />
<br />
No promises... but I'm hoping that this page will be updated slightly more than randomly from now on.<br />
<br />
So yeah... any tips on what to do in 72 total hours in NYC?</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-79934444837057350252017-12-08T14:43:00.002-07:002017-12-08T14:43:58.551-07:00Things I've Currently Run Out Of...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In no particular order...<br />
<br />
- patience<br />
- answers<br />
- fucks to give<br />
<br />
Bring on the Christmas holidays.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-80415620159206780642017-10-08T23:51:00.000-06:002017-10-08T23:51:11.396-06:00The Quest for Yet Another Passport<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://www.standard.co.uk/s3fs-public/thumbnails/image/2016/06/25/14/irishpassport_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="213" src="https://www.standard.co.uk/s3fs-public/thumbnails/image/2016/06/25/14/irishpassport_0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I am Canadian by birth (and damn proud of it!), but also carry a UK passport (pretty much the only think my bio-dad was good for was being born in London).<br />
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<br /></div>
<div>
That passport has been great - short lineups at Heathrow, a cheaper visa for Turkey, and no fee visas for New Zealand and Australia. I also haul it out when I’m passing through EU checkpoints in European airports, since having my picture taken in some little booth is way quicker than standing in the non-resident lineups (provided, of course, that I already have a passport stamp of that country in my Canadian passport. I’m a bit of a passport stamp collector). </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I got my UK passport almost ten years ago, after my first European trip as an adult (I’d been to England as a child, but then not again until I was 30) when, on a whim, I decided that I was going to pack up all of my possessions and move overseas to work. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Alas, that did not happen. </div>
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Until recently, that UK passport has been my gateway to the EU. I’ve seriously considered moving overseas for at least part of the year when I retire (some people head to Arizona, my plan is to head to Europe). That is, until a bunch of stodgy arsehole Brits (I’m not blaming the Scots for this) decided they wanted to exit the EU, only thinking about themselves, and not the future generations. Or me. They didn’t think about me! Bastards!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So now, for the purposes I really want it for, that passport will soon be rather useless.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But... my grandfather (who died before I was born) was born in Ireland! And they aren’t part of the UK! I’ve found another gateway to the EU!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
The first step in securing an Irish passport is to register my birth as an Irish citizen born overseas. And that costs almost €300. For real. It also means that I have to track down my grandfather’s birth certificate, which should be really fun given his combination of first and last name (a super popular combination) and the fact that I don’t actually know where in Ireland he was born, or exactly when he was born. </div>
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<br /></div>
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So - I’ve been researching my paternal family tree. I’ve found records of the birth of all of my aunts, uncle and bio-dad, and information on my grandparents marriage. The tough part is - back then, they didn’t list birthdates on marriage certificates, so tracking down the Irish birth certificate of my grandfather is a bit like trying to find a needle in a haystack. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I think I’ve done it. My grandmother was born in 1912, so I’m assuming the person I’ve found with my grandfather’s name, born in 1908 is a likely candidate. Luckily I do have one cousin in Ireland (who has an Irish birth ceritificate through this lineage due to not being able to secure a UK one through her mother because until the 1980s women mean shite in the UK and couldn’t pass on citizenship), and she’s going to work to confirm the information I found... and then the next step is to become Irish!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
For only a small (starting) fee of €300. Maybe I should start a Go Fund Me. I mean, everyone needs a third passport, right? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I’m going to need a bigger passport wallet.</div>
</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-32529701765896282952017-09-08T22:42:00.000-06:002017-09-08T22:48:46.535-06:00The ReasonToday was one of those days, one where you realized why you do the job you do. <div><br></div><div>It's not because of the administrative bullshit and everything that goes with that. </div><div><br></div><div>Or the paycheck (although that's a definite perk).</div><div><br></div><div>It's because I feel like I can really make a difference. </div><div><br></div><div>I had a client today. I'd never seen this person before, but after we talked, after the client opened up to me, after tears were almost shed (by both the client and myself, but I'm hopeful I contained myself in front of them and seemed reasonable composed), the client thanked me, thanked me for listening, thanked me for offering all of the hope and help I can, and just seemed thankful that they had a person that they could talk to. I'm not an expert in everything, especially mental health issues, but I can listen, I can be a voice of reason, I can be a cheerleader, I can attempt to de-escalate issues, I can share my stories and I can give referrals to the people that are the experts. </div><div><br></div><div>After the appointment, I needed a moment to compose myself. I help people all the time, but rarely does it feel as good as it did today. </div><div><br></div><div>I do my job because I genuinely believe that I can help people, and the work I do does make a difference. </div>Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-46836752808320109852017-09-01T23:02:00.000-06:002017-09-08T22:50:14.856-06:00HopelessGeez. My blog titles are really uplifting these days!<div><br><div>I suffer from a chronic back condition - three degenerating discs in my lower back. Most recently (like a couple of years ago), the physical manifestations of the disease was actually numbness, not pain - as I was recovering from my broken ankle, and getting ready to head to Iceland, my left leg was numb. All the time. Which is weird, but, luckily for me, not painful. </div><div><br></div><div>Recently, the manifestation of the disease is pain. Sciatica in my lower back that is some of the worst pain I've ever been in during my 40 years on earth. I haven't been able to stand up straight in a week, and I've had to miss work because I can't physically sit through the pain. </div><div>My new-to-me chiropractor, whom I've become best friends with this week, having dropped $350 to see, seems great. I know this will take time to heal, but the techniques he's using (more active release than manipulation at this time because I'm in so much pain) brought me to tears today. </div><div><br></div><div>Partially because of the pain that he causes during the treatment. But I know that he has to get deep in the muscles to try and release the pressure to allow my stupid degenerating discs from squeezing the everloving hell out of my sciatic nerve. </div><div><br></div><div>But also because I'm exhausted. Being in pain for a week, to to point that you can't really do anything (think sitting on a toilet, sneezing, getting in and out of a car, sleeping, sitting, walking - basically anything but laying in bed), is mentally exhausting. </div><div><br></div><div>So.. today I decided to stop being some kind of pain martyr. I went to a walk-in clinic, and was seen by a seemingly competent doctor (these are often hard to come by at walk-in clinics). He prescribed a new fancy pain med (and provided me a coverage card even though I have a pretty good extended health plan) and a high powered muscle relaxant. He also gave me a couple of samples of a medicated rub to help with the pain and inflammation. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm hoping I can make it through this long weekend without too much pain. Daily, after my treatments, I've been seeing progress, but every morning as I wake up, I seem to revert back to square one. </div><div><br></div><div>Fingers crossed I'm on the mend. Cause if not, my next step is to just cut my body off at the neck, and hire someone to carry my head around on a fancy platter. </div><div><br></div><div>That's not weird or anything. </div></div>Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-62288666519992204562017-08-28T20:56:00.000-06:002017-08-28T21:35:59.987-06:00FrustrationI'm not sure if there is anything much more frustrating than the feeling of being undervalued and unappreciated at work. <div><br></div><div>I am a valuable member of my team. I'm extremely knowledgeable, and I do my job well. </div><div><br></div><div>I will admit that I am confrontational at times - but I believe that stems from not ever being asked my opinion about how I think things could be better, or constantly having the opinions and ideas I have shot down. It's like almost 20 years of experience means nothing. I'm sure you can imagine how frustrating that can be to never have a voice. Or to be given the carrot that perhaps one day my voice will get heard. </div><div><br></div><div>I should never not be able to sleep on a weekend because I can't get my brain to shut off, or sit in a Superstore parking lot at the end of a stressful Friday crying. I should not feel like a lesser person because I push back, wondering why, after nine years in my job, people are asking me to do things that have never been part of my job, assuming that I can just drop everything that is part of my job to jump at tasks I feel are very much part of other people's jobs, not mine, and then being chastised for questioning these tasks. It's not to say that I refuse to take on other responsibilities - I'm constantly looking for ways to improve the service I give - I just like to have those added responsibilities relate to my client base, and my role within my organization - one that has been pretty clearly defined for over nine years now. </div><div><br></div><div>But it's doubtful that no matter the arguments I make, or the information or evidence I provide in favour of my ideas, that my opinion will be taken seriously, valued or even taken seriously. </div><div><br></div><div>And that's a really fucking frustrating feeling. </div>Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-86137374163252205162017-07-24T16:30:00.000-06:002017-07-24T23:03:41.868-06:00Are Millenials Allergic to Google?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was born in 1977.<br />
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<br /></div>
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That means I survived all of my youth without the internet. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
We had a set of encyclopedias at home. For real. And I had to go to the library if I wanted to research anything. </div>
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For that reason, it amazes me, that on any given day, I spend hours sending emails to people answering questions that I wouldn't have ever considered asking anyone - cause I would've just Googled it. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
The clients I deal with at work are primarily born from about 1995 through 2000ish. Millenials. They've never lived a day in their life without the internet. Hell, they barely lived when the world only had dial up internet!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Millenials - they grew up with information literally at their fingertips (we won't even get into the fact that I didn't own a smart phone until about 2009). They're a tweeting, snapchatting, Pokémon searching, instagramming generation. THEY HAVE WIKIPEDIA! They don't have to search for outdated information in an encyclopedia (although they made for great bathroom reading when I was young).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
And yet... they seem either too fucking lazy or they're too fucking incompetent to actually use the wealth of information. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
If I can't find information on the internet, I assume it isn't available. If a company doesn't have a website, I normally won't give them my business. It's because I want to find information on my own - not rely on asking someone else for it, and I value having the information available to me whenever I want it. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I spend much of my day resisting the urge to reply "well, why don't you just Google that?" to emails. Because really - why should I be the one that Googles things for people? My job description (if I had an up-to-date one... but that's another story) does not mention anything about spoon-feeding website links to people.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So yeah...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Millenials. Take some initiative. Before you ask a question, try Googling the answer. If you can't find one, or you don't understand, send an email asking for clarification. Show the person you're emailing that you have half a brain, and that aren't afraid to use it. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Cause seriously, you guys are really pissing off us Generation Xers (and Baby Boomers for that matter) who have managed to figure the internet out, even though we didn't grow up with it. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Don't play dumb. Dumb isn't becoming. It's annoying. And it makes me fear for the future. </div>
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Kids these days. They want everything handed to them on a silver platter. </div>
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/endrant</div>
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</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-3983961758898410442017-07-18T15:14:00.002-06:002017-07-18T15:15:33.761-06:00Another Day... Another Blog Theme...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBiic8k5Xtn5ojlnW-Ywjn1peBsWbcgLWSUIoWBgXG5hvNaO35Ow6AbbzoqYIBEpAqWmvQL7xbKZCgdtnambvWRp4f6KH6ziR4-gMytwh5BZjlawiQ_SZUfvYSA-D-pGgRPzy/s640/blogger-image--39455331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBiic8k5Xtn5ojlnW-Ywjn1peBsWbcgLWSUIoWBgXG5hvNaO35Ow6AbbzoqYIBEpAqWmvQL7xbKZCgdtnambvWRp4f6KH6ziR4-gMytwh5BZjlawiQ_SZUfvYSA-D-pGgRPzy/s640/blogger-image--39455331.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alina, the cutest niece in the world, and don't even try to argue otherwise</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So yeah. Sorry about neglecting you internet.<br />
<br />
It isn't you - it's me. Really.<br />
<br />
I think I lead this great life (well, I guess I actually do), but I'm not sure if people even care to read about it.<br />
<br />
And lets face it - I'm as lazy as fuck.<br />
<br />
Since my last post, I've visited a bunch more places (I did a Baltics and Norwiegian Fjords cruise, spent a week in Spain and Portugal, and spent my 40th birthday in Southeast Asia), and I've planned two more trips - one to Costa Rica and Panama, and then another cruise to the Southern Caribbean for my next birthday.<br />
<br />
I have a new niece. And I don't care what anyone says - my niece is the cutest niece in the world. Hands down.<br />
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So yeah, my life is pretty good, but I'm just too lazy to write about it.<br />
<br />
Maybe my new blog theme will inspire me a bit.<br />
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Fingers crossed.</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-62561292812459525892016-08-10T18:00:00.001-06:002017-01-16T14:39:12.318-07:0050 in 40<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I realized while working on a craft project that involves a cork map and flag pins, that with my current travel plans, I will have travelled to 49 countries in my first 40 years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">45 of those countries will have been visited since I turned 30...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">49 is great... but not as great as 50. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After asking to be included in a friend's vacation in the Fall to aid in getting to 50 countries by May (where we realized I'd been everywhere she's going with the exception of Gibraltar... which led to a discussion as to whether Gibraltar is even a country, and whether British Overseas Territories would count as a country), it was decided that a day trip from Barcelona in October will be just what I need. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So Andorra... I'll be in you for about 8 hours in October... and I'll celebrate visiting my 50th country right on my 40th birthday. </span></div>
</div>
Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-56435244579923203512016-08-07T22:03:00.001-06:002017-01-16T14:39:26.406-07:00Travel Planning 101<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I do a lot of travelling. I consider it a prize for not having children. Or a money-sucking relationship. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Enough about that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once I decide where I want to go, I dive fully into planning mode. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah... I'm the person that books things eight months in advance. Including flights. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Although sometimes cheap flight deals are the reason I go to certain places (Iceland 2014, Istanbul 2013, Barcelona 2015). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I use a couple of main resources when planning my trips...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Tripadvisor</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- booking.com</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Pinterest</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes. I said Pinterest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have boards for trips I'm currently planning. I have boards for trips I want to take. I have travel advice boards. Basically I have boards about everything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I use it to collate information, similar to how I used bookmarks in the past. But I find Pinterest a great resource for blogs posts of "real" people's adventures and advice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I just have to stay away from the 9000 posts on "how to pack" and "when the best time to book flights". Cause really, there are so. many. posts about those things and they all say the same thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll write some posts about my use of Tripadvisor and booking.com over the next little while, since I think my planning neurosis may be helpful advise to others. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Less than two months until I head to Spain and Portugal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And only nine months until Southeast Asia (oh yeah, I'm going to Southeast Asia)!</span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-6876018722977901902016-06-30T22:10:00.001-06:002017-01-16T14:39:37.627-07:00Addicted to Travel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hello, my name is Carmen, and I'm addicted to travelling. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes - I just got back from the Baltics and Scandinavia. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And yes - I just booked a trip to Spain and Portgual for October. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My excuse - the flight was less than $500. On KLM.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is going to practically be cheaper than staying at home. Or something like that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyone wanna donate to a GoFundMe to support my travel habit?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Didn't think so. </span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-27837246915178956312016-04-17T21:23:00.001-06:002017-01-16T14:39:50.405-07:00#baltics2016<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm less than three weeks from my cruise. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've started pre-pre-packing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Which will soon be followed by pre-packing, packing and then finally re-packing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've double checked all of my accommodation reservations for pre- and post-cruise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've bought a number of tickets for my shore excursions to beat the lineups that will inevitably occur when a cruise filled with 3000 people invade a small Norwegian fjord community of 250 residents. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've exchanged some money. Yes - I'm one of those... I don't like going to a country without a bit of cash in the local currency. It's paid off in the past - I was able to pay my fine on Bulgarian transit with cash - I'd imagine a night in the clink would've followed had I not been able to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now it's just a matter of time. 18 sleeps to be exact. </span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-76722348711733294402016-03-16T23:03:00.001-06:002017-01-16T14:39:58.413-07:00The Mindset of a Fat Girl<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've been overweight pretty much my whole life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not "My 600-lb Life" overweight, but overweight none the less. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the past five years, I've lost and gained the same 25-30 lbs no less than three times. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's simple really - the "better" or "more healthy" I eat, while limiting my calories to 1500 or less per day, I lose weight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I get to my goal, get complacent, and then stop doing what I know works. And that's tracking my food intake. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tonight, I lost a floor hockey final game. It sucked, but life goes on. On the way home, my first thought was "what could I have as a snack when I get home"... but I wasn't even hungry. It's like I wanted to to reward myself for working out for an hour with a treat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even after losing 20+ lbs since the new year, I still have the mindset of a fat girl. Food is a reward. Food is a treat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But it doesn't need to be. I've got some good healthy recipes in my repertoire (thanks Pinterest). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I need to start thinking about food as what it is - sustinence. While the odd treat is important (so I don't binge), I don't need treats. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I need to stop yo-yo dieting. I feel better at the weight I'm at, and I know I'll feel better with another 10 lbs off. I need to be more active throughout the year, not just when the sports I normally play are in season. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I need to give up my fat girl mindset. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But it's hard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm a work in progress. </span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-85888823861211788302016-03-07T21:20:00.001-07:002017-01-16T14:40:06.776-07:00Don't Sweat the Small Stuff<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I may have been on this earth for almost 39 years, but there's still a lot I need to learn. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I need to learn to not let things that are out of my control bother me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I need to not instantly react to things that bother me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I need to learn that I'm paid to work seven hours a day, and should focus any of my time outside those seven hours on anything but work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I can't make people like me, and I can't make them proud of my accomplishments, even when they should be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There are many people with whom I don't agree with and don't like, and I can't change them into someone that I do like. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And most of all, I can't waste time sweating the small stuff. It's the small stuff that'll kill me. </span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-85569310803221161172016-02-26T21:53:00.001-07:002017-01-16T14:40:13.632-07:00Traveling...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My next trip abroad is in 69 days. I'll be adding a shwack of countries to my total number of countries visited, and like all of my other trips, I've entered planning mode earlier than most. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll be spending 16 days on a cruise, followed by a couple of 24-hour whirlwind trips to cities I've never visited. I love the choices of airlines in Europe. For about $200 I've booked flights from Copenhagen to Riga, Riga to Vilnius and the Vilnius back to Copenhagen. I couldn't fly return to the next biggest city in Canada for double that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As per my last cruise (so the usual), I won't be participating in cruise ship excursions. The thought of being on a 52-passenger bus with a bunch of old people (face it, I'll be on the younger end of the age spectrum) makes me want to vomit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Instead, for the couple of places I'm doing tours (like St. Petersburg where you have to go on a tour to get around needing to apply for a Russian visa), I've booked tours that max out at 16-20 people - a smaller group means (in theory) you can do more as the tour guide isn't spending their time herding kittens. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">69 days... and then I'll take off for Copenhagen and land the next morning on my 39th birthday. A happy birthday to me!</span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-38583555171381759332016-02-21T00:28:00.001-07:002017-01-16T14:40:44.910-07:00Shit Disturbing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I caused some shit at work this past week. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One incident was totally and completely my fault, and I'll take whatever (within reason) reprimand that comes my way. I was an ass, and it'll take a long time to fix it. But I've tried, and the best I can try and do is learn and move on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The second was basically getting shit on by someone in another department over email. That of course was forwarded up as high as it could in my department. The only thing I can really learn in this situation is to do less, because doing more means stepping on toes to get things done. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But, I guess we have to learn something from every situation. Sometimes you learn things that can be put to good, and other times you learn that sometimes it just isn't worth the effort. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's sad, because I like putting in the effort. It's what makes things interesting. But it sure ain't worth getting in shit for. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lesson learned. </span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8605757.post-15368264421313973012016-02-20T12:58:00.001-07:002017-01-16T14:40:28.580-07:00Back on the Blogging Bandwagon...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, by now, all of my faithful readers have disappeared, because you all think I got so lost in New Zealand, that I'd never be able to blog again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Seriously - my last post is a recap of New Zealand... almost a year ago. I didn't blog about Australia, or anything since then. I haven't blogged about my next vacation, about how the Canucks are killing me this season, or... well, anything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I need this outlet. I live by myself - which is fine, and as an introvert, I value my alone time. But it means a lot of time to think. I already suffer from mild depression and anxiety (and take medication for it), but when I have bad thoughts, I have no one to talk to them about, so they just keep bouncing around in my head. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So - I'm going to start using this forum again as an avenue to get my thoughts out, as random as they are. Maybe that will allow my brain to shut down every once in awhile. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Maybe. </span></div>
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Carmenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02169580268686268057noreply@blogger.com0