Followed*

(via: http://www.loverslawn.com/wp-includes/images/woman-being-stalked.jpg)

As a blogger, I usually love when someone "follows" me.

In the real world? Not so much.

On Wednesday I had an experience that unnerved me so much that I felt real fear for the first time in ages. I'm normally a very cautious person. I'm the kind of girl who always checks the back seat whenever I get into my car at night, who locks the door to my home when I'm by myself, and who looks both ways before crossing the street. I love, love, love criminal-ish TV shows and I take a lot of the tips and advice given for women in those shows to heart. (well, the good parts anyway.)

A girl can never be too cautious, you know.

That being said, I think I'm also incredibly naive. I always look for the good in people, and I have this habit of thinking that bad things don't happen where I live. Unless someone is in a hooded, black sweatshirt with dark sunglasses I'd never assume someone to be a danger to me.

I finished work fairly early on Wednesday afternoon, so I decided run a few errands on my way home. I live close enough to be able to walk to work, as well as to a grocery store, coffee shop and pharmacy. I decided to stop at the pharmacy first (they had some faaaabulous sales) and took my time perusing through the store. It was roughly 1:35pm when I left.

I then made my way over to the grocery store, which was just a stone's throw across the street from the pharmacy. I'm a total day dreamer, so as I walked I was hopelessly lost in my thoughts--planning out the rest of my week and weekend as well as making a list of what I needed in my head. As I walked through the parking lot toward the store I became aware that a car was trailing behind me. Thinking that maybe it needed to pass by I move aside and continued walking.

For another second the car stayed behind me, then it honked twice and pulled up beside me. Thinking it might be someone I knew, I looked over to see three big guys inside (whom I had never seen before in my life). The one in the passenger seat whistled at me and I half-smiled and nodded without looking back. The car then pulled up closer to where I was and he leaned out:

Guy: "Hey beautiful. We just saw you walking and you looked so beautiful we had to stop."

Me: *awkward laugh* "Uhh.. thanks!?"

Guy: "You busy? Wanna come hang out for a bit?"

**Sidenote: In hindsight, I probably could have told them off at this point and done something to turn them off completely, but at this point I was only mildly creeped out and didn't think much of the situation. I've been honked at and hit on before, so I handled the situation how I normally do--kindly, but firmly.

Me: "No thanks. I'm just going to buy groceries."

Guy: "What about after? I'll wait."

Me: *slowly becoming more creeped out* "Sorry, I have an appointment at 2. Gotta run."

(Yes, I fibbed. But I thought it was for the greater good.)

Thankfully I had arrived at the doors to the store and slipped inside before any further conversation could be made. I should add that all of this transpired while one guy hung out the window of his buddy's "ride"--TLC's 'No Scrubs', anyone? Ha.

Thinking that was all done with (all previous pick up attempts by other guys would have ended by that point) I grabbed the things I needed and began walking toward the front of the store. As I exited one aisle I saw all three of them walking down the length of the store looking in every single aisle without going into any of them. I started feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach, but then I thought to myself, "Well, they were in a grocery store parking lot, maybe they just need groceries too". I tried to duck into another aisle to hide but was spotted.

I suddenly made myself very interested in reading the backs of cereal boxes.

Guy: "Hey beautiful, we found you!"

Me: "Uhh, yup, you did."

Guy: *pointing to my pharmacy bag* "Is that where you work?"

Me: "No."

He then began firing all these personal questions at me, wanting to know my name, how old I was, where I worked, if I lived around there, etc. The worst part was how he looked at me--words cannot express how uncomfortable it felt. I did my best to dodge all of his questions and began walking to the checkout.

Guy: "So, can we hang out after your appointment? Why don't you let us drive you there?"

Me: "No thanks. It's in this plaza, and actually I'm married."

Here's the kicker.

Guy: "That's okay, we can hang out anyway."

Yeaaah. I knew I had to get out of there immediately. I said no again, and quickly made my way to the checkout. As soon as I got into my line I brightly engaged in a conversation with an elderly gentleman in front of me to keep myself occupied and prevent any further communication with the creepers. Thankfully they got into another line that finished before mine did and they left the store.

I breathed a sigh of relief and took my time bagging my groceries just to be sure they had gone.

As I walked toward the doors the sinking feeling I had felt in my gut earlier came back in full force. One of the guys was standing right outside the door watching me, like he had been waiting for me to come out. I gripped my bags and pushed forward.

Guy #2: "Hey beautiful. Find everything you need?"

I half smile and continue walking out.

Guy #2: "Come on, why don't you let us drive you to your appointment. We can hang out after."

Me (firmly): "No. I'm fine, I don't need a ride."

I begin walking in the direction of my apartment, which is away from the store and the plaza I was in.

Guy #2 (suspiciously): "I thought you said your appointment was in this plaza."

Me: "It is."

By this point I was walking as fast as my legs could carry me toward the first destination I saw, a coffee shop, which is roughly halfway between the store and my apartment. I felt like I was being watched the entire time. I took my time inside, bought a muffin and waited a few minutes before exiting through a different door to make sure I wouldn't be seen.

I felt mildly victorious that I had successfully dodged such an aggressive pick-up as I stood on the street corner waiting to cross the street and enter my cute little apartment. My safe, happy place.

Then I saw the car.

And I saw the expression that said, "Found you!" as the car turned the corner and honked at me before (unknowingly) parking just outside the front door to my apartment.

The sinking feeling turned into full-blown panic. I knew I couldn't go home as a) I'd have to go right past them, and b) they'd know where I lived, so I crossed the street and began walking in the opposite direction. The closest place I could think to hide was the rental office of my apartment complex so as soon as I was out of their line of sight I began running toward the office. I ducked inside and realized that I was shaking as I watched out the window of the door. I waited a few minutes before moving to the other side of the building to see if I could see them. I went back and forth for about 10 minutes, trying to decide what to do.

I hemmed and hawed over calling the police but eventually talked myself out of it because I thought that maybe I was overreacting. After all, I do watch a lot of criminal-ish shows and besides being overly aggressive and persistent with the pick-up attempt, I hadn't been hurt in any way and I thought they they could play it off as us just being in the same place at the same time having a "friendly conversation" or something.

See how good I am at talking myself out of things? I realize now that I should have called.

After 10 - 15 minutes of hiding / waiting I decided to make a run for it. There are two ways to get back to my apartment from the rental office--an alleyway and a path that runs through the complex. I decided that the path was probably safer as parts of it are visible from the road and the entire pathway is visible from several apartments. I ducked my head out and looked around, and after being sure I couldn't see anyone I crept out of the office and walked toward my apartment. When I got within 100 feet of my front door I saw a car that looked like theirs, but it was empty so I ran across the street and bolted inside.

I was still shaking a bit when I made it in, so (after bolting the door) I sat on my futon for a few minutes while I processed what had just happened. I stayed away from my front windows (which face the street) but I soon realized that I needed to distract myself, so I watched 10 - 15 minutes of a TV show to take my mind of things. As more time passed I began to relax, and after 20 minutes of being at home I figured that things were fine now. I turned off the TV and made my way to the kitchen to grab something to eat. As I was walking past my front windows I saw two of the three guys coming off the path that I had taken to get back to my house.

I dropped to the floor to avoid being seen and peered over my window sill as my heart raced through my chest. I looked at the clock and realized that there was a good possibility that they had been looking for me for twenty minutes after watching me disappear in the direction of the rental office. I couldn't see their license plate from where I was, and I was afraid to stand up to get a better view for fear of being seen. I sat on the floor for a few minutes until I was sure they were gone before creeping back to my futon where I sat until the Hubster got home from work a few minutes later.

I instantly felt at ease when he walked through the door, and as I recounted the events of my afternoon he rushed to the window to see if they were still there and reiterated over and over that I should have called the police.

I know that nothing really happened and that in reality things could have been a lot worse, but I just feel so... violated. I'm supposed to feel safe in my neighbourhood, and most especially in my home... and I just feel like in a moment's time they took that from me. Just knowing that they parked their car and got out to look for me, twice, is so unsettling. I'm now uneasy going to my grocery store and don't even feel comfortable walking out my front door. I feel like I am looking over my shoulder all the time in case I see them again.

I just don't like feeling anxious... and that's how I feel whenever I go out.

Jerks.

Moral of the story? The next time someone hits on me I'll just kick them in the shins and run.

Or call the police. You know.

Body Language*

(via: http://www.hilltopstudy.com/images/Sore%20Joints%20&%20Arthritis/ache%20hip_9896179.jpg)

So lately my body and I have started communicating... well, I suppose it would be much more correct to state that lately my body has been communicating more openly with me. I only just started listening.

It's no secret that I've had a lot on the go these past few months. I was also just called as the Young Women's President for my church (which basically means I get I "oversee" the female half of our youth program) and while I'm very excited about it, it's also just one more thing to work into my already full schedule.

My mind is constantly processing how to work things into my schedule--"If I do this for this long, that leaves me time to do this and that, then tomorrow I can do THAT."--but my body isn't quite in sync, so it decided to speak up.

Two weeks ago I went to the gym. This is something I often do in the morning so it wasn't out of routine, and I did what I normally do at the gym. Now then. Normally my legs feel a little like jello and whatnot post-gym, but this particular Monday my back decided to voice its opinion of my workout. By Monday night I couldn't even bend over without feeling excruciating pain.

Message from body: "Slow down."

My response: "Mmmmkay. I can take it easy for like... a day."

I let my work know that I had hurt my back and while I couldn't take time off I was able to reduce the amount of lifting and physical work I normally do. In a day or two I felt fine again.

Fast forward to the next Monday: I am back at work, doing normal workish things. I bend over to grab something and I swear someone jabbed a knife into my lower back. By the end of my shift I could barely walk without pain and I knew I had a problem.

Message from body: "Slow down, woman."

My response: "FINE."

I made my heating pad my best friend and further reduced my responsibilities at work. The pain slowly eased to a dull ache and so, after a couple of days I resumed my whirlwind schedule.

By Friday I was zipping through everything I needed to. I worked for a few hours, made dinner and spent a lovely date night with the Hubster watching movies. I'm often exhausted by the time the weekend rolls around, so I didn't find it particularly odd that I felt so tired... I was just surprised that I couldn't even stay away through Bones (one of my favourite TV shows). By 10:30pm I had already fallen asleep twice and knew it was time for bed.

I slept late the next morning. Sleeping in for me is usually 8:30am... but it was after 11 before I could drag myself out of bed. I was still exhausted, every inch of my skin ached and I felt light-headed. Showering took every ounce of my energy and it took all I had in me to make it back to my couch. I was tired, sore and had absolutely no appetite. Over the next two days I lost 2.5 pounds just from sheer lack of appetite and I slept at least 10 - 12 hours each day.

Message from body: "Slow the freak down, woman!"

My response: "...ugggggggggh."

Needless to say, I slowed things down a bit. I spent 48 hours on my futon, watching movies in between naps--allowing time for my body (and my back) to heal. I've tried to slow down a bit where I can, and slowly but surely I've regained my appetite and strength, and my back is getting better. Now it just feels like I have a big bruise where I hurt it (lower back, right side)--the skin and muscles are tender. (Back experts of the world, what exactly did I do to myself?! Help? haha)

Anyway, I finally started listening: I'm doing too much. Time to cut out the crap.

Dear body,

I hear you. LET ME LIVE!

Love,

Shop Girl Goes Hunting*

(via: http://germanhistorydocs.ghi-dc.org/images/ACF809E.jpg)

I'm on the hunt.

Some people hunt animals. Some people hunt for rare treasure.

...I hunt for shoes.

Every so often I find that a beloved pair from my collection is coming close to retirement. It could be from old age, it could be from wear, or it could be from... *gasp* falling out of style.

I absolutely hate when this happens. I love my shoes. All of them. Sure, I play favourites, but all my shoes are family. There is seriously a lot of love here. It's never fun when a shoe dies.

But I also have a secret: I love hunting.

You see, I'm really not the girl who can walk into a store, point to a shoe and say, "That one works. I'll take it."

Oh no.

I have a process. First I need to see all the available possibilities, then I narrow it down to a few favourites that I'll examine carefully while thoughtfully pondering the wardrobe possibilities. THEN I try it on.

Then I repeat with every store in proximity. haha!

It's not an easy process, you see. So when I did the summer / winter shoe swap this fall, (yes. I have to display my shoes by season... I can't fit them all. Don't judge me. ha) I pulled out my long-loved knee high black boots and realized it was almost time for them to go. When I first saw them eight years ago it was love at first sight--they are fitted without looking like I painted them on, they have a nice 2.5" heel, a perfect slightly squared toe and best of all--they are so comfortable.

They are also almost completely worn out.

So, in November I began hunting for new boots. I wanted something that I could wear with both dress and casual; something comfortable but with nothing lower than a 2.5" heel. I thought it would be a piece of cake. Carrie Bradshaw goes out and finds the perfect shoe every day, right?

Ha.

I've looked. And I've looked. I think I've seen every boot that exists in my city... and just none of them are speaking to me. I've looked at straight boots and slouchy boots and pointed toes and round toes and knee-highs and thigh-highs--my boot just isn't there.

I know it sounds crazy, but I know that I'll know it when I see it. I bond with my shoes. I heart them, you know.

I still love the look of a straight boot, but I think I've decided to go with a semi-slouchy boot this time, if I can find the one I want. This boot is the closest example of what I want that I've found, but they really don't look as nice in person. I'm also mildly interested in this boot, but I also think the buckle and heel is a little too Matrix for me.

And so, the hunt continues. For now I've resorted to looking online at shoes I adore but can't possibly afford... some day I'll be a famous bajillionaire and I'll have Carrie's shoe closet. Just wait.

(courtesy of: http://www.barneys.com/Ginevra/159016305,default,pd.html)

(courtesy of: http://www.jimmychoo.com/Boots/Orchid/invt/000orchidkd958)

If any of you are feeling particularly generous and want to buy me either of those boots, I promise I won't say no. :)

Looking Back on 2009*

(via: http://www.sxc.hu/pic/m/b/ba/ba1969/1195613_new_year_2010.jpg)

I know I'm technically a few days late with this post, but I knew it would take me a while to get through and I didn't want to write it in pieces, so, here I am... three days late. I figure that as long it's still the first week of January it's still fair game! haha

Oh 2009... where to begin. In January I "finished" school. By the end of the month I had completed the in-class portion of teacher's college and only three placements stood between me and graduation. Completing my last university exam was such a surreal feeling, but dang it felt good!

February and March were spent teaching grade 7 and 8 in Senior's City. After the first two weeks of placement I was positive that I hated teaching at the intermediate level and that it was going to be a miserable two months. Ha. I'm not really sure when things changed, but somewhere between chaperoning a school dance and becoming a "booze buster" I knew that I could have a very fulfilling, happy career teaching grade 7 or 8 by the time that placement ended. Except for the math part. I could live without that.

In March we also found out that Peeah was having a baby girl and managed to get away for an eventful week in Florida with my family.

I left grade 7 and spent most of April teaching a Grade 12 University level English course. The students were wonderful, but I found that what I once thought was my dream course was actually kind of... boring. Aside from trying to make Hamlet interesting, it wasn't terribly challenging. As I continued toward the end of my year, the Hubster finished his and completed his degree in Computer Science and Business. After weeks of applications and interviews he was offered two jobs and we faced one of the biggest decisions we've ever had in our marriage to date. After careful thought and consideration we decided to go for the "riskier" of the two jobs--it began only as a 4 month contract--that also held the most potential. It involved moving to a city we had never considered in our previous conversations but we decided to bite the bullet and go for it.

May was one of the best and hardest months of 2009 for me. The Hubster and I spent three weeks living apart as I finished my last placement in The City, and he began preparations for us to move at home in Senior's City. My mother kindly gave up her car for the duration and my lovely cousin invited me into her home to live with her while I finished school. Getting to know her and her family better during that time was one of the highlights of my whole year.

May was also when I fell in love with Special Education. To be honest, I had never seriously considered it--Peeah is a Spec Ed teacher and had always encouraged me to go that route, but it never held any interest for me. I took the placement because I thought it would look good on my resume. As much as I hate to admit that, it got me in the door and it's now what I want to do most.

While my weekdays were spent in the classroom, my weekends were spent apartment hunting in our new city. After viewing several apartments that were either too pricey or too dusgusting we found a cute little 2-bedroom apartment in a fabulous location for a great price. However, there were other people viewing it at the same time we were and we had only minutes to discuss it as a possibility or else we'd lose it. Without knowing what the other tenants were like, or getting to know the neighbourhood we decided to take a chance and took it. After six months I can honestly say I couldn't be happier... we love our new place!

June... oh June. It was full of graduations, unpacking and the beginning of the job hunt. June was full of such promise. I was turning 24, held two degrees and a professional designation and I felt confident that I'd find a teaching job in no time.

By July I realized that things are never that simple. While I continued to apply for posting after posting I tried to remain hopeful.

And then it was August and I was still out of work. I stopped counting the number of postings I had applied for over the summer, and was more than a little discouraged that I hadn't even been able to find a part-time job in retail. The two bright spots of that month were our 4th wedding anniversary and the arrival of my beautiful niece, Princess Pea. I was at the hospital only hours after she was born and holding her for the first time was an experience I'll treasure for the rest of my life.

In September things began to look up a bit. I finally found a part-time job, and while it isn't glamorous, the people I work with are wonderful and it's an income... and I'm grateful for that. I also began my French course and began volunteering at a local high school. My days went from being empty to being so full I needed an agenda just to keep track of where I was supposed to be and when. We also bought our first car and I began eating chocolate again after a full year of living without.

October and November were much of the same... my hours at work increased and I continued with my volunteering hopeful that it will one day lead to something permanent (and paid!). If nothing else, it's been wonderful to be back in a classroom and I've met some fabulous people.

And then it was December... December was so full I don't even know where to begin. I worked too much, stopped eating chocolate again, didn't sleep enough and didn't leave enough time to really enjoy the season I love most. That's really another post all itself... the one thing I will say is that this past week and a half has been wonderful. I worked psycho hours until December 23rd--I often just felt like the Hubster and I were like ships passing in the night. He left for work before I was fully awake, and by the time I got home from my job it was almost time for bed. But by some miracle I've had 8 of the last 10 days off work and they were spent with family, friends and most importantly, spending time with my Hubster. We spent lazy days where we didn't even leave the apartment to busy days full of shopping and outings and quietly rang in 2010 in our little home with movies and popcorn, just enjoying being together. While 2009 was certainly no walk in the park for him or I in many aspects of our lives, I am very excited for 2010. I'll be turning 25. We'll be celebrating our 5th wedding anniversary. I don't know what it holds for me career-wise, but I know it holds something. I just have to be patient and work hard.

Whoa. The turned out to be so much longer than I ever expected! haha Oh 2009, you were busy! I also made a few goals for myself, let's see how I did!

1. 2009: Get my but to the gym at least twice a week, three times if I can manage it. Reach weight goal--7 lbs to go. Also, have a flatter stomach by Florida (March break).
I actually did hold a gym membership for the majority of 2009, and aside from the summer when I didn't have one, I made fairly good use of it. Unfortunately I also put all the weight I had lost for Peeah's wedding back on with a few extra pounds for good measure. *sigh* I've realized that chocolate is my nemesis, and if I want to be fit, it's gotta go. Since I stopped eating it again in late November I've lost 8 pounds and am just 10 pound shy of my goal.

2010: Get my but to the gym 3 -4 times a week, no exceptions. Reach weight goal--10 lbs to go. This year my focus is my big thunders--I want runner thighs!

2. 2009: Continue replacing "bad" foods with better choices. Stop eating fast food where I can, and cut back on eating chips (my guilty pleasure...).
I actually spent most of 2009 off chocolate and I felt great. I was doing really well with the healthy eating for a while but fell off the wagon. I'm back on track again now and feel better than ever.

2010: Continue eating healthily and be aware of calorie intake.

3. 2009: Write in my blog every day, and finish Our Story.
Haha... well, I wrote in my blog every day for the first two months of 2009, then life happened and I just couldn't do it. I also haven't finished Our Story yet, even though it's been nearly two years since I began!

2010: Write as often as I can, but focus on writing great posts instead of quick thoughtless ones.

I also had these on my list:

--Run a 5km race (Not yet, maybe for 2010!)
--Be able to comfortably run 7 - 8km (I'm up to 4 - 5km again, I'll get there this year!!)
--Graduate teacher's college and find a job (I managed the graduating part, now I just need a job!)
--Read books that are not school books (I read a LOT this year, and I LOVED it. This year I want to keep a list of all the books I read!)
--Bake a pie from scratch (I tried this. Filling was fabulous! Pastry, not so much. 2010: get lessons from Mom. haha)
--Stop keeping things just to keep them. Clean up and clean out. (Done! The move forced us to downsize in many, many ways and it feels great!)

To that list I want to add:

--Find a teaching position. (My goal is to do this before February 1st... wish me luck!)
--Finish writing my book.
--Try at least one new recipe every month.
--Take more photos.

Well my loves, that was my 2009. It was an interesting year, though I'm not terribly sad to see it go. There was one very bright spot throughout the year though: YOU. Over the past 12 months I've had the opportunity to get to know so many of you through your writing, through Twitter or 20SB and I have loved every moment of it! You've supported me through the hard times, cheered me through the good and stayed even when I didn't write for weeks a time. Thank you. Thank you for being here--for always making me feel like what I write is important. I can't begin to tell you how much it encouraged me when times were tough. I promise to be a better writer and reader in 2010--thank you for bearing with me.

Thanks for just being you. xo