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Moosezoomin

Sonja
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It begins!

Well... next weekend it begins.  Mkay well Thursday, but that's close!
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I'm still alive ;)

I've been away such a long time and I'm sorry but I've been so busy and still its not over.

We're just about finished packing.  Tomorrow we start putting our things in storage.  In June we start building our new house.  I'm going to live in a tent for nearly three months!  Oh what glorious fun.  And it is somewhat remote but not exactly.  No there are no roads so we needed a 4x4 pickup truck just to get in.  Yes I have four bars of cell phone strength.  There is a tower just north of us.  No services what so ever.  The nearest power line is some 6 km away.  But we can hear the sea planes land at the harbour in town, about 20 km away.  I'm worried and stressed a little but also excited.  I'm going to create a tumblr account where photos of the construction will be posted.  I'll post a link here when I've made that, probably next month I think.  I won't forget I promise :D  And then once we move in the life I have known will be over, all over, forever.  I'll have something completely new and I hope to share it, probably with a new account.

XOXOX
Sonja
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Last year my birthday gave me surprises long before it was my birthday: I saw a psychologist which opened up a whole can of worms into my life, each worm being in itself a surprise, and each surprise lasting well into this year.  As a result I read a ridiculous number of books related to my situation, (I tend to become momentarily obsessed with topics).  And then this year my birthday surprises came after my birthday, and once again, on account of a visit to my psychologist.  (I started seeing her again in August).  And it's not that I want to have problems, or that I need to talk to someone about them, or that I'm all emo or goth and have to have problems, it's that I know something isn't right (it's called ASPD), and that I want to understand, to control, to ensure that what I want for a life is not endangered by some grenade planted deep within my brain somewhere which will one day explode and ruin me once and for all, because... the grenade is there: it's not just the anger I now realize, because deep inside me there is this inherently self-centred selfish destructive (to others not just to me) core, one that doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything except itself and achieving whatever whim it suddenly desires.  This is what writers refer to as the fatal flaw in a character.  I now know mine in some detail but refuse to let it destroy me.  I'm not sure I can keep it from controlling me.  And unless you have been here where I am now I don't think people can fully appreciate it.  It's powerful.  It's like an addiction.  It's like learning you are addicted to breathing and have to stop because breathing will kill you.  It seems impossible.  I got a taste of it last year but this year I think I got to the bottom of it.  I think we got to the bottom of it, because, I don't think I could have got nearly this far without my psychologist, despite what she says about my obsessive efforts to understand.  I'm not sure if anyone finds this interesting but I am aware that a lot of people are silently suffering through problems they are too scared or embarrassed to share or seek help to resolve and it angers me that there are so many problems where there are so few people to talk to, even fewer who can help, and almost no one who will simply accept.  And everyone has some kind of problem.  "Mental Disorders" are the norm.  My boyfriend tends to be too compassionate and caring to the point where it causes him distress at work (he's an RN).  Normality is rare.  My eldest niece seems to be a lot like me when I was her age: hyper sensitive to everyone and every thing.  I'm being the person I needed when I was her age in the hope that it will help her be less like I am now.  But, before, I mostly just didn't care, then as more people made more comments to me about things I said or didn't say or did or didn't do it concerned me.  I'm an intensely private person and didn't want people to know THAT much about me.  I normally don't even want people to know when my birthday is. :P  Basically I don't even like it when my sister knows about what I'm doing, and I would never dream of sharing any personal interests with co-workers.  Or my boyfriend, as I discovered recently, who after having watched Hannibal (both seasons) with me became interested in my fantasies.  Despite everything we have talked about, and we've talked about just about everything, I did shock him.  I think he's maybe just a little disturbed, but also knows that I know what the consequences would be.  I'm not going down that path, I told him this much.  Right now it's a fight against my biology, my genes, and the weird way my brain is put together and so far I think I am winning, despite feeling like I am two people in here: the ASPD me, and The Other Me.  Recently I wondered if perhaps the ASPD me is me when most of my emotions are Off; The Other Me is still me, but when my emotions are On.  I was in two heated conversations last week and did not become angry even once.  I'm getting good at this. :)  Perhaps too good, everyone thought I was really upset when I wasn't, despite the fact that I cared about the subject and was hardly indifferent toward it.  And then on the weekend I played Monopoly with my boyfriend.  We haven't done this yet, mostly because I told him I'm not that much fun to play with, because I take the game far too seriously, because I always win.  I simply MUST win.  I've done the math on it.  I have a strategy that works virtually every time (buy the middle priced properties, they have the highest return on your investment, and never waste money on the most expensive properties).  And don't be kind to the other players, that is, don't change the rules.  So we played and I destroyed him in about two hours, but he claims he had fun.  "Next time," he said, "every time you get paid rent you have to take a drink."  I love this guy. :)
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I will have a couple photos of some of my art soon.  I've been toying with two pieces for a while and I'm pretty happy with them, so probably before the end of the year one will be here (once I'm sure it's finished).  I also need to take a photo of my magnet board (a rusty old sign) which turned out pretty good.  So I guess that I'm taking photos of abstracts I'm painting.

The other day I learned something that I should have learned when I was fifteen: how to relax.  This seems absurdly simple, and the method is just that: absurdly simple.  It's almost magical with me, it's wonderful.  It's called 3/5 breathing, and my family physician told me about it when she asked about emotional issues over the last year (she knows, of course).  You breath in for three seconds, then breathe out for five.  I do this three times a day, for about 7 or 8 cycles each time.  I haven't had a situation yet where something irritated me, but the first time I do I'm trying this (if I remember).  Just throughout the day it's marvellous.  It works better than drugs.  Everyone should do this, it's THAT good!

And I also finally put 2 and 2 together with my nieces.  Over the last few months they have been talking to me about all kinds of things: things at school, things about their friends, what they do and talk about, all while we are playing with legos or playing Uno or something.  I asked them once or twice if they had told their Mom or Dad some of the things they were telling me.  "Oh No, Mommy would freak out and go nuts."  And she might just at that.  This is typical elementary school girl talk: about boys, about their interesting anatomical "part", about things boys do in the washroom with their interesting anatomical "part" and about what girl likes what boy and who has pulled their pants down and all that.  Maybe it seems weird or extreme or too early to you, but when I was 8 years old I remember all this.  When you turn 8 it's like a light comes on, and the world out there seems real and alive and all the people are so fascinating.  So what I put together was that I am part of their In Crowd.  I'm not just their Aunt, I'm certainly not just an adult, and maybe they don't see me as an adult.  I'm privilege to all their girly gossip and thoughts.  It's like I'm an 8 year old too.  Okay so well maybe I ought to be, playing with legos :p  I was telling my friend Erica about this and she said they must really like me a whole lot more than just an Aunt to tell me all that stuff, and I think Erica was right, although I never have understood what they see in me, other than a play friend who happens to be an adult who happens to be their mother's sister.  So I mentioned this to my sister tonight and told her I wouldn't tell her everything, since they are talking to me in confidence, but if anything strange comes up I'd let her know.  She seemed immensely relieved.  I think she worries about her children far too much, but then again, she's a Mom, and Moms worry about everything. :)

And while waiting to see my family physician something happened which has not happened in a long time, and I enjoyed it a whole lot.  This "guy" sits down beside me and says "Hello Miss Sonja" and I'm thinking who are you, how do you know my name?  As he then explained we apparently worked together.  It was one of my university summer jobs.  I was surprised that someone remembered me from that far back.  I hadn't thought myself that memorable.  And then and much to my relief he begins updating me on his life, not asking me questions (which I hate, and online it is different, I'm not actually talking to anyone here :P).  But I'm not really that interested, and he's obviously trying to impress me with all these events in his life, to which I am wholly indifferent.  And gradually I remember things about him.  He's your typical Narcissist: he's done nothing, but wants all the Egotistical Admiration from others thinking he's done everything and knows everyone worth knowing, and quite possibly knows everything worth knowing.  I can spot people like this, even slightly like this, with ease, same with people who are remotely like me: they stick out like mismatched socks.  I don't like these people but I do like being indifferent toward them.  It upsets their world.  Well, rather, it upsets their fantasy world when someone doesn't express suitable impression over all that is presumably them.  And generally I'm not that easy to impress.  So before his family physician was ready for him, he had given up trying to impress me and sat quietly more or less minding his own business.  It felt so good. :)

Lastly, my eldest niece finally ended the mystery of where Kitties come from.  It seemed pretty obvious to her: Kitaly.

This has been an awesome week.
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Life

2 min read
Apparently when one has a life they become too busy to actually have much of a life.

Ironic huh?

So my step father died somewhat mysteriously, but the police don't suspect anything beyond "natural death" which merely means "we have no fucking clue."  My mom was, of course, and to some extent still is a wreck, but she's recovering.

Work has kept me busy.  We have had, and now had, an issue with trash at work.  The problem being insufficient garbage bins during conventions, and insufficient maintenance people to empty them.  I suggested not only more bins, but colourful ones so that they were impossible to miss, in addition to nice little signs above them with different kinds of trash attached to them (no words).  I constructed a few of these, they were tested, and they filled up, so my boss agreed we should have more of them, and now all of them are like this and trash is a far smaller concern now.  <Sonja scores major points!>  My boss asked me if I'm out to get his job.  I winked at him and said "Oh no, I'm out to get YOUR bosses job!" to which he just laughed.  I was serious :P

NOVEL DEADLINE: March 31st 2015, novel OUT June 30the 2015.  That's right, printed copy or ebook they'll be all done by 30th of June!!!  Ebooks will be inexpensive, printed copies will be expensive (unfortunately) but will be autographed with a personal message and come with a bookmark. :D  Oh I know I'm not famous so big fucking deal, right?  But it's fun, and, I want to do something special.
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