This conversation transpired between myself and a very good friend just now.

It’s weird enough that I had to sanitize and share it because … well … see for yourself:

(WARNING: extremely geek-oriented material ahead; typos are original to the IM conversation)

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There was once a time when I truly loved to blog. I filled paragraph after paragraph with drivel or opinion or rants. It was all truly personal and extremely subjective … and sometimes downright hateful.

Apparently, I have either lost that ability – or motivation – or I don’t remember how to.

In those days, I was not known – I was invisible, simply another voice in a sometimes discontent sea of voices. It didn’t matter what I had to say because no one could take personal offense to what I was saying. I could rant and rave in relative anonymity and not think for a second that I was going to be causing harm to others.

Things have changed and just by virtue of who I have become – per se – I am no longer anonymous and what I say DOES matter and WILL offend.

I still have my opinions, most of which are now so inflammatory that I am sometimes afraid to even THINK them much less write about them in a public forum like this blog is. Lately, I have realized that the inflammatory nature of these thoughts and opinions is not only not improving, it is getting worse. And I am moving further away from a time when I could speak freely and anonymously.

I sit and watch people express themselves on Twitter, on Facebook … even on Google+ and I realize that were I to open my mouth about any of the subjects that are now on constant debate I am either so far out of the loop as to cause the wrath of the ages to be called down on me for my ineptitude to research … or I am so far beyond the “norm” that I get the wrath of ages called down on me for my opinion and insight.

Hell, I find even when I state my mind in simple, non-judgmental terms without even attempting to incite debate and drama, I get it anyway.

Therefore, there should be no doubt as to why I have become silent in the last few months.

Unfortunately, it has hampered my ability and my propensity for fluency and it is beginning to affect my work… at this point in time, I can no longer write as I used to because I can no longer find the words to express myself. I am out of practice. Badly out of practice.

As a result, this blog has become a sparse collection of random topics ranging from a recitation of events as they have occurred in my life or a random miscellaneous commentary or review on some new geek toy or service that I have “discovered” for myself.

Not exactly how I want to be.

And so … I have decided that I need to write again – as anonymously as I once used to. For that, I have chosen to move my rants, opinions and scorching commentary somewhere else – somewhere anonymous – where whether or not one wants to be offended or not is separate and apart from my so-called public persona. A place where only a few select actually know me and care about what I think – no matter what it is – and respect for me even having an opinion.

The rest of you will have to deal with my random miscellaneous posts if and until you can prove to be as discerning and objective of what I choose to speak about as I expect you to be.

My apologies. It may seem harsh to you – and maybe even unnecessarily drastic, but I must attempt to save the one thing I have always loved to do … and that is, to write.

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This post is long overdue (and somewhat overly long as well). There’s just been so much going on with me that I scarcely know where to begin.

The Christmas holidays had loomed large and foreboding for me all year being the first Christmas that hubby and I were separated in this manner. Any Christmas’ we had spent apart was because either we had seen each other within weeks beforehand or were about to see each other in weeks to come. This Christmas, half a world and a war zone separated us.

The previous seven months have been some of the most difficult months I have ever had to endure. Somehow I managed to get through them, though. And I am not certain that it was due to any one thing.

In January of 2010, I landed a job. A job that seemed to be somewhat of a dream opportunity and seemed to have literally fallen into my lap with little or no effort expended on my part. A woman I had met back when I was still part of the web ring community, commented on a post I made on Facebook (or was it Twitter?) that if I registered on SitePoint.com and searched the job postings I might just get lucky. Well, she was right. 1000 times right! The posting was for a developer (whom he had already found), but the poster was also looking for a web administrator. And his requirements were simply a level head and a reliable personality. I guess I fit the bill.

In February, I had a minor operation to remove endometrial scar tissue from my abdomen. Without realizing it, I had been in severe pain for months but had ignored it mainly because I had dealt with pain of that kind all my life and I had come to accept it as “normal” for me. After the surgery, we found out there was nothing normal about what they excised out of my abdomen.

In March, someone I thought was a good friend and who would be a main source of support throughout the deployment did their usual ‘disappearing’ routine which made me realize finally that what I needed for the upcoming year was dependability and positivity; of which this person was neither.

Coincidentally, March was also the month when hubby got his 2 weeks of block leave. And we headed to Michigan for a few days – it kind of reiterated to me the need for positivity and dependability – the kind I knew I could find with family, whether they be adopted, inherited or married into.

April was THE month. I remember feeling like a part of my very soul had been ripped out when hubby left. I sat bereft on my couch for hours each day trying to function. I was marginally successful.

I kind of bounced back pretty quickly after that. I knew it was a little weird but I didn’t dwell on it because I needed to concentrate on surviving the next 12 months.

I was shattered to learn he would be home early – within a mere 3 months after leaving. And whilst I was ecstatic to see him again so soon, I knew it meant a LOT longer time before he would be home for good.

The next couple of months were a living hell. I was constantly weepy – even during a weeklong visit from my parents. After they left, I realized I needed some help because crying over stupid shit was just …. unacceptable.

My good friend in Seattle sent for me to stay a couple days with her and that made me realize once and for all that I wasn’t going to be able to handle being strong on my own. By the time November rolled around, I was getting myself under control and it was time for the adventure of a lifetime.

Costa Rica, the prospect of meeting the people I had been working with all year, and a brand new globe-trotting experience … I was doing fairly well by then. The trip helped a great deal in cementing that. By the time I came back to the States, it was time to delve into work with a vengeance, into the new WoW expansion with a vengeance and start packing for my trip back home to Jamaica.

That trip topped the year off in fine style. Talk about going out with a bang. It was good to be home and to familiarize myself with long lost loves and friendships. It was bittersweet. I loved being there, among family and friends. Yet I missed home and wanted to be here. And yet when it was time to come home, I didn’t want to leave.

At the end of it all, it put me in good stead to soldier on through (no pun intended) the next 3 – 4 months until hubby gets home.

The new year dawned whilst I sat and talked here at home with Mom and Dad in Jamaica on Skype and me with the firm determination that this year was going to be the best yet. I was going to make it so, even if it killed me. And to celebrate that determination, I started going to the gym.

I have lots to accomplish these next few months. And if I thought I had been busy before now, I’ll be be dizzy by the time April rolls around.

I want to update more regularly and I promise to try, but don’t hold it against me if I don’t show up as often as I once used to. I’ll do my best to keep you in the loop, maybe tell a few stories along the way to spice it up. Last year was a long adventure in many areas and I am sure somewhere, someone can learn from what I have gone through. And as the self-lighted firefly, if I can happily light the way for even one other person, I feel I will have accomplished much.

So until then, I wish a very happy 2011 to you all.

Namaste.

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This is classic! Just classic!!!

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I was talking to a friend of mine today. She called to check up on me because I kind of disappeared yesterday. I was taking it very easy because of the headache and the tiredness and after talking to Mom I just finished up a couple episodes of Smallville (remind me to wax poetic about that series, will ya?) and went straight to bed – did not pass go, did not collect $200.

I’d had a good morning … I was up a few minutes before my alarm and feeling pretty good considering. I got into my walking clothes, donned my weights, slipped on my ipod and headed out. Humidity was relatively low, and so I was able to manage a brisk walk. At first, my chest felt like I might not be able to make the whole 2 blocks, but I pushed myself knowing I could do it and WOULD do it.  To cut a long story short, I did damned well considering I’ve been either passed out or headachy for about 4 days straight.

And so my friend and I are talking about hypertension, and the causes .. medications, history of hypertension and the negroid race … and then we branch off into exercise and heart rates.

Despite having been walking with a 1lb weight at each wrist and a 5lb weight on each ankle since I started walking, I wasn’t quite sure I was doing the right thing. She suggest that distance would be better for me to start. Well, since I know I can’t do distance, I didn’t think it made much of a difference whether I had the weights on or not. In fact, since I know I can’t do distance, the 2 blocks I CAN walk right now might work my lungs a little bit, but they would not work my arm or leg muscles.

Which kind of slung me down memory lane.

I was 12 years old when the doctor wrote me a permanent excuse from running PE (or PT) at school. “Cross-country” runs had me wheezing within the first 5 minutes of the run. Teachers were alarmed, Mom was scared and I was in pain. Whilst the doc could find no trace of asthma and since this phenomenon turned up during running, he forbade me to do long distance running from now until evermore. PE for me was reduced to field (long jump, etc), swimming and games (netball, etc). A year later I gave them all up because even though I wasn’t wheezing, my chest was still quite uncomfortable and besides, what was a 80lb weakling like me going to do with exercise anyway? It’s not like I needed to lose weight.

I got lazier over the years – spoilt by my perfect metabolism. I’d eat and eat and eat and eat and not put on any extra pounds; but if I got sick and stopped eating – boom – there goes the last 10lbs I worked HARD to put back on after the last bout of non-eating. When I hit college, after being there a good year, I finally hit the 100lb mark and celebrated in fine style with alcohol and cigarettes.

It wasn’t until I hit my late 20s that I noticed that things started to change. And now … well, now all I have to do is LOOK at an oreo cookie and BOOM there’s an extra 2lbs on my face. Just like that.

There are many reasons for this – my body has never been used to being active, in Jamaica I sweated like a pig every day all day, the food there is FAR healthier, I moved around more being that I worked outside the home. It was the move to the United States that caused the sudden growth spurt. I kid you now, I gained 30lbs in about a 3 month stretch and that was during the first winter months up here.

So here I am trying to teach my body how to be active and exercise. It’s going to be a long uphill battle, but I am stoked. I am going to get fit if it KILLS me. Hopefully, I’ll even get to a point where I can run a mile or 2 instead of pathetically walking 2 residential blocks.

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