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I am officially on vacation. I will see you in a week. With: The siren call of the roller coasters, Stories of my 10 year old twin, weird beards and the Sunshine Express. It's time to celebrate summer:)
Thank you for all your support.
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So when I was 17 I fell hard for Keanu Reeves. That is I loved him hard, briefly between Joe of NKOTB and that guy from 21 Jumpstreet that wasnt Johny Depp and Jean Claude- the muscles from Brussels. I mean I saw everything he was ever in. Everything. And the film that sprang to mind is one that I can barely remember: Chain Reaction. What I really remember about it, other than Morgan Freeman and Keanu being overweight, was the caption. Written in white font that looked like it was moving quickly across the bottom of the poster. 'Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.' at the time I thought it was a catchy line. Turns out that it's some pretty solid science stuff too. Equals and opposites. Surprise.
Like for example: Negative: I always have sand in my shoes Positive: My feet are soft and complimented by my pedicurist. Negative: My dog is super picky about who she likes Positive: makes me feel better that she likes me Negative: things cost money Positive: right now I have some. Not a lot, but enough to afford a douch bag coffee with 16 ingredients Negative: the Commissioner has been hanging around a lot lately Positive: I get bonus points for putting up with him that I am saving to put towards a nice peice of jewellry. Hear that Hubby? Saving my patience points Negative: my Puppa is pooping a lot, because of some new treats she's eating Positive: I am not sure yet. But I am hoping for a big payoff, as I am pretty sure we are the only ones in the neighborhood who pick up their dog's fecal matter, cuz it's everywhere. C'mon people. That's gross. Negative: I am nervous about the drop on Leviathan. I have yet to hear anyone speak of it. Especially if it's raining. Positive: I get to stand in line for an hour waiting for a chance to scream my guts out, and I haven't screamed in a long time- I am interested to know if I still can. Negative: my abductors are killing me from my new arial class Positive: I am taking an arial class Negative: It's Thursday of my holiday and I have already made too many plans for this two weeks. Positive: that's awesome. Plans rock. Even the boring ones can turn wicked, no matter how lame they might seem. Ha! I guess Keanu was right about one thing. It's all gnarly, rad and totally excellent. A delicate balance that keeps us all craddled is important. And now, for midnight tacos- which is all positive baby:) Yesterday was a good day. But today might be better:) Yesterday's yesterday I wrote a list. A long list. A long list that was detailed. A complimented list, with very specific direction on how things on this vacation are to go down. A vacation execution list if you will. Well, with a not to shabby a showing first day showing; I have started checking things off my list.
My sunshiny toes enforced my love of cartoon strong women. And cycling between the parked cars in my new purple helmut, which cost way too much money. But the part-time comedian at the bike shop made it worth it. My facial was a success. Moving the congestion from my chin and opening it up into summertime skin. My skin is peeled and massaged and moisturized almost back to where I like it. Soft. My uke played my new navy nail polish off with great gusto. Baby Belle finally remembers my name. But she needs some new music, you know to impress me. Dressed as a superhero sailor in my new Monroe glasses helping to deflect the dust from my neighborhood. I got a giant douche bag drink, soy milk and all dat. Which is just as good as I remember it. My Kitty vibrates beside me and the Puppa snores and sleep kicks me as I write this. None of my books are getting any closer to being finished. But the sunset was beautiful turning the CN Tower that lovely shade of concrete pink. And the planes are quietly circling the flight path. Today, I have something out of the ordinary. I am going to the recording studio with a 10 year old who wrote her first song and had it composed. A 4 part harmony built behind a drum kit and bass guitar. So, I get to mentor a brave baby. Ohh it's kinda cool. What a lucky and wonderful life! And I am free to do it! And then I get to hang out with my BFF. Vacation I LOVE you. Everyday is great. Those last few things aren't even on my long list, but I am excited to do them too. So as Hubby and BFF keep telling me; stop pressuring myself. I am going to release the pressure and dance a little more. And that's gonna rock! I am rocking, rolling and reeling. And with all this music floating around, who could stand still? As you may know I have been working quite a bit. Taking advantage of time off and trying to fill my weekends with fun and friends. But I got a much 2 week vacation. Hurray! It's not a second too soon either. I am so excited to have 2 weeks of time for me! Here's what I am planning on doing.
1. Sleep. Period. End of sentence. Having to be at work for 7am everyday has me getting up at 4:30am and going to bed at 10pm-or at least trying to depending on how good TV was that night. 2. Eat salad! Having on set food 5 days a week has wreaked havoc on my body. Not to get too detailed, but I could use a good clearing out. 3. Go to the movie theatre and watch a double feature- perhaps even sneaking into the second movie*insert shocked gasp I haven't been to a movie in months. And the summer blockbusters must be reviewed! 4. Did I mention sleep? Cuz I'm gonna. 5. Take the Stinker to the park, give her a good brushing to make her coat shine like silk in the sunlight. And let her sniff until she's decided the world is too big to explore in one day. 6. Have Cuban food. Julie's has the best guacamole in the city, it's right up the block from me and I haven't been in more than a year. Plus maybe a few Mojitos... Yes. I think yes. 7. Visit my Momma and Papa. Last time I was there, I didn't take a breath while speaking to them. It might be nice to actually hear how they are doing. Though they are busy folks so I will take Hubby and the Stinker, and plan hikes and riverside picnics. 8. Go to the beach. And swim hopefully in an erroneously small bathing suit to even out my tan lines. 9. Finish my 2 books I've got on the go. One for pleasure and the other because I will not be beaten by a book, you hear me book? I will not be beaten! 10. Play my Baby Belle. That poor little lady has been missing me and I her. Her strings growing limp. I am pretty sure she's put an ad on craiglist looking for a casual hookup/jam session. 11. Write this series of children's books I have been dancing around for months. You can swear and do pornographic things in kid's books now right? Is that where they're learning it? I think yes. 12. Pedicure + many other assorted spa necessities. I have to be slathered and lathed. Removing multiple layers of sun damaged skin from everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Especially my heels, they look like a crocodile skin socks. 13. Patio brunches! I need at least 2 patio brunches. Brunch is my favourite meal of the day, combining the wholesome foods of breakfast and the boozey sleep in behaviour of lunch:) mmm breakfast caesars. 14. Just an all around relaxation celebration. I want to sit on my tiny balcony and watch the world go by and laugh at the poor Joe's who don't have time off. Laugh and laugh and laugh. 15. I am going to take an allergy pill and pet my Kitty until she's rumbling so loud the couch vibrates. Until the Puppa gets jealous and chases her into the bedroom. 16. I am going to see friends. Tall friends, short friends, even friends with kids! I want to see them all. So, since I won't have time off again until September, I have to take advantage of the summer now. (Although with global warming the way it is we may never see winter again) I do love the feeling of accomplishment a stay-cation provides. But I am really looking forward to exploring the world a little bit more, and planning a large scale trip. For now though, it's amazing the type of adventure you can have in your own backyard. Every Monday my co-workers tease me about the amount of stuff I jam into a weekend. Trying to remind me that weekends are for relaxing. And seeing as this was a partially cloudy one and BFF was out of town, I decided to actually rest up. So I watched movies. All sorts of movies. Some I hadn't seen and a couple old favourites. Movies from the 60's, 70's, 80s and 90's. Meryl Streep, Robert DeNiro, Tim Allen, Justin Long, Sigorney Weaver, Jerry Lewis, Christopher Reeves, the Sheriff of Nottingham & Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman. It was my goal to have a quiet weekend. A weekend filled with snuggling. A weekend filled with relaxation and rejuvenation. Full of cuddling the Stinker and falling in love with our favourite actors all over again. To try fitting somewhere on the couch with Hubby and Lucy, all 4 of us in perfect harmony. And watch the magic of the movies.
Now Hubby has never seen the classics. Unlike me growing up in a world where colour didn't exist until grade 5. Classics were all I knew. A woman was a woman in a wonderful gown. A man was a hero saving the day at the last minute. People cried and music swelled and romance was honest. No false pretense. Just you and I in love. Travelling through time to be together. Clandestine train rides and ringing bells. The comedy was physical; the romance: inevitable. The movies are where my life belongs. Watching people struggle with the old questions and inventing new ones, it's only a matter of time until we've solved them, if we work together. Hubby says the oldies are nothing new. That you know what's happening before it happens. I say it helps us to learn that the struggles we have are nothing other than daily life. That it's okay to struggle. To scramble and scrounge. The peasants have been doing it for generations. Stealing from Peter to pay Paul. Why would the 60's be different? Why would that change in the 80's? If the human condition is just that, the stories are timeless. Its the amount of nudity that's changed not the story. Before when knees were news, they showed'em. And they've been trying to show more ever since. But it is the characters who fight and the stories that stick. Why would the movies change? Movies in the 70's and 90's trying to prove they are doing something different. Reinventing the wheel? Well, since the wheel was invented people have been trying. Trying to create a new world through movies. Trying to tell a story we've already heard with a new narrator. The movies are a special place. A place where anything can happen... And even though this was suposed to be a relaxing weekend; I found myself, travelling through time, questing to the edges of the universe, celebrating Christmas in New York twice, watching a play from 1912, strolling beside a lake, staying at more than one grand hotel and answering way too many phone calls. The most significant change was the way people talked on the phone. The way they left messages for each other. Pay phones and desk phones, operators making important connections. I do miss that. So I guess it wasn't as relaxing a weekend as I had hoped. But I will always be glad to sit with a bowl of Bits and Bites and have an adventure. Thank you NetFlix:) This coming August I will be celebrating my 1 year anniversary. But this week I was away from my Hubby and it's strange. Sleeping in an empty bed, without Jilly and the grunts of my loving man. My pillow, left behind from a trip up north, smells strangely like my Hubby at the cottage. Covered in sunscreen, lake water and lanolin. It's warm and comforting much like Hubby himself. And I miss him, he makes me laugh.
While sitting on my parent's front porch saying our goodnights over the phone I glance at the widow's house across the street. In her younger years she was a supply teacher with high blood pressure. Her husband was a notorious drinker, who drove home in his old pickup truck, generally parking askew across their lawn. There was many a screaming match heard echoing through the neighborhood as he arrived home in the early hours; driving dangerously down our rural street lined with kids. And though he often slept in his beat up truck to avoid the wrath of his wife she loved him desperately. She waited up for him, greeting him at the door. The smells of roasting beef and fresh apple pie lingering around their home. But as is the case with many people who live frivolously he died early, leaving a wife and semi grown kids, who had both left home early to avoid their toxic relationship. And as I sit and watch the tv flicker softly through her living room window I can see her sitting there alone. She has been watching tv alone for more than 15 years. With only the occasional church bake sale or visit from her children and grandchildren breaking up her days. And that makes me sad. After our goodbyes I climb the stairs to my childhood bedroom. Through my window I can see the backyard neighbour who is also a widow. Her husband consumed by illness. Slowly wasted away into a shell of the robust man who used to take such pride in his garden. The man who used to repair his own siding and fix his own car. The man she married young and stayed in love with for as long as I can remember, there was nothing she could do but try to make him more comfortable. Their grown children taking shifts watching and waiting for his soft exit. I can see her sitting on her deck in the fading daylight alone and it makes me sad. Curling up alone in this bed that smells strangely like my Hubby I can't help but be thankful that we are just starting out together. His smells good and bad are all around me. But so are his arms. There is such a sense of loss in the eyes of the widows walking the streets of my former small town. Like in wartime when women were left to fight on the home front while the men lost their souls for the higher calling of peace. But this war is daily, a fight to stay in love. A life alone spent fighting for all the memories that a widow holds dear, but for now I will embrace my lucky stars and kiss my Hubby and fight for love each day. So that if the day comes that I am sitting on my deck alone I will remember my love, and I won't be sad anymore. When I was about 17 I took a job babysitting three kids before and after school. Now, all three of these kids were kooky. The oldest a girl: was bossy and loud and was always right. The second a boy: was clumsy and forgetful and needed help with math. The youngest boy was hilarious, even with his lisp and his constantly running nose he was my favourite. But then it's always easy to love the baby, and being "this many*insert all five fingers* ywars ode", who wouldn't? Their Momma would drop them off at my house at 7:30 and I would take them to school, walking of course, except the eldest girl who took a bus from the corner to her french immersion school. And when she was gone the boys and I would walk/play all the way to school, which she thought was immature. She was a very mature grade 5. Throughout the school year, I gave the youngest nightmares by watching Kindergarten Cop. The middle boy lost his pants and the Girl would just tattle on me all the live long day. I remember one day when I picked them up from school; the youngest was wearing different clothes than the ones I had dropped him off in. Upon asking him what happened, he informed me they were lost and found clothes. While waiting for the answer to why he was wearing a stranger's outfit, he told me he had "fawen into a pudduo up to he-yor"*insert a hand a foot above his head. Despite not being the ideal role model and having a pretty sketchy track record when summer came I was upgraded to their fulltime babysitter. Summer is great for kiddies but their Momma still had to work...So... Let's put the pieces together... I started babysitting them at 7:30 am at their house and stayed until 4:30 a demanding job, for a 17 year old.
Our routine would go as follows. I would drag myself out of bed at ten minutes to 7 and race around getting dressed. Jumping into my Chevy Lumina I sped the back roads all the way and managed to make it just in time...barely. Then their Momma would tell me what to make for lunch and she would leave. Kids being kids and it being summer they wouldn't wake up until 8:30, and in the time between I would sleep on the sofa. On more than one occasion I woke to find them all sitting on the sofa beside me watching Phantom Menace, the house fav at the time. Then it was time for toast and jam, mandatory 1 hour outside time and maybe a movie or craft depending on my enthusiasm level and the Girl's demeanour. She loved crafts and sometimes I didn't want her to have fun; there I said it, I was a petty teenager. We quickly feel into a rhythm. A lazy summer beat. One morning that changed. Having fallen asleep in the typical way I once again awoke to the pod race screaming through their surround sound. While rousing from my slumber, I heard another noise. A shuffling, a scratching, a what was that...was that a squeaking? type sound. Pausing the movie- a VHS by the way- we all listened together. Suddenly, as if on cue a bat flew out of the chimney and began circling the room. In a normal household this would have raised screams of "it's in my hair!" but not here. The weekend earlier their family had gone to Science North a wonderful place with an extensive bat exhibit. These 3 youngsters remained calm, knowing that a bat uses sonar to locate objects and that this tiny little herbivore was trapped inside and only wanted out, so he could go to bed. I myself have never had a problem with bats, so I calmly walked to the screen door and held it open to our flying friend. All with the stillness and dignity of 4 smart kids respecting nature. Cue the three legged tabby; a cat that only moved to follow a sun spot across the floor... With the sudden focus of a jungle cat, this tabby leapt from 3 legs to snatch the bat mid air. Only to have the problem of, now that I've got it pinned beneath my one front leg, how do I get this twitchingly delicious morsel in my mouth? Back to the stunned audience...screams arise from 4 mouthes in shocking harmony. Which sends the tabby into a frenzy, who then grabs the flapping bat in it's teeth and makes for the bedrooms upstairs. Three screaming children!! The bat, oh no, Tabby got the bat!!! And now it's eating it in your Momma's bedroom. Ordering all 3 outside I race up the stairs in hopes that the bat if not still alive is at least not a bloody mess on the sheets. Which of course it is. Storming out past 3 still crying kids, asking if Batty is alright I get a shovel, prepare a burial and strip the bed. I am in tears at this point, the babysitting course did not prepare me for this. With the sheets in the laundry, I arrive in the kitchen just as their Momma calls for the mid-morning check in. Consoling me and cajoling me, she says the best way to fix this situation is to go outside and have popsicles. Yeah, right, but you know it's just crazy enough to work. Walking outside to see 3 glum faces suddenly light up with the thought of mid-morning popsicles. Problem solved right? As the 4 of us are licking our drippy frozen juice, the middle boy starts asking to play Squeeze, a local game, like baseball but with only 3 players, to which the youngest boys whines that he will be left out again, my response is, I'll pitch so they can all play, as long as they set it up. So, they agree and go to the shed, unpacking the bases, the gloves, the bats and the ball. Sitting behind home plate, finishing my popsicle, I start to think, today might actually turn out okay. Before I've finished the thought, another bat swoops down across the deck and towards me, the middle kid who's setting up with bat in hand shrieks like he's having flashbacks of wartime. Swings the bat with all his gusto and knocks one out of the park...Hitting me square in the nose with a Louisville. Crumpling like a paper doll, I sink to the deck, 3 sets of children's shoes huddled around me. "I phink she's dead." the youngest says. "She's not dead, she's faking." the girl snarked in her typical snotty voice. Frozen andWrapped a cocoon of pain, both emotional and physical, the blood streaming from my nose. So I did what any rational 17 year old does. I called my Momma. Bombing down the back roads, she pulls into the driveway and has everything humming along smoothly in minutes. All calm, cool and collected, the way the best Mommas are. Turns out that sometimes even though the cats are snatching and bats are swinging, you really just need a designated hitter to clean up. As for the kids, we lasted the summer, just barely, and after that I hung up my babysitting belt without batting an eye. I'm a try hard. I put the extra effort in at all times. Hoping to optimize what I got:) Being the friend, a friend would like to have. Being the person I want people to talk about at my funeral. Being nice, even when it's hard. Sitting up straight. Helping others. I am a goodie goodie, a try hard. I change the toilet paper in the public washrooms. I don't litter, ever. I try hard to make every time the best time. The world would be a much nicer place if we all tried a little bit harder. So let's try hard together:)
Let me explore the jurisdiction of the Commissioner, he yells at strangers and wants to throw things and stomp his feet. Now, that doesn't seem like a nice way to live. How can that be better for the world around us? By yelling at a stranger you are actually fanning the selfish fire. Now I think that people are generally good, though they do need some 'parenting' more often than they should. Or maybe a 'Galinda-ing' a gentle-sparkly-pink-witch reminder to stay on the yellow brick road...What's the saying? You get more flies with funny. So maybe if the Commissioner found a sparkly way to tell others he was disappointed, he'd feel like he was winning a lot more. Instead of getting angry and blowing his top at the people who are following the Commissioner's Regulations. Hubby is convinced I try too hard to make people like me. I say it's not just about people liking me; which, I can admit, is a happy side effect, it's about people liking themselves. I pick up the tab & I join in, I give praise and props. I smile and listen when people talk. I am an eager participant in people's lives. I remember names and partners and their recent trials. Those things are important. I think it's everyone's job to listen to everyone. It is your universal duty to humanity to make the people around you feel better. Or at least help them try. Especially people who are making tough decisions. It's important to recognize that those decisions are hard, but it's not our place to opinion them to death. It is our job to support the fact that they made the decision in the first place. A highly commendable skill. Making a decision and sticking to it, requires gumption. A quality that seems to be lacking in our day-to-day bally-hoo. So, I give compliments and courtesy- without reciprocal expectation. I hold the door and thank myself. Building up your friend points. Being the change you want to see in the world. It really is important. Not just for our friends. But everyone. Karmically speaking you're supposed to try. Even though it's a lot of fun being a jerk. Being good isn't hard, it just takes awareness. Take this guy sitting next to me on the bus for example; he needn't jab me with his newspaper, but does anyway. And instead of realizing he's hurting me; he red this blog entry over my shoulder, huffed and moved seats. Wouldn't it just be easier to be nice? Apparently not; he telegraphs to me across the bus aisle. But I smile and continue to give my best. This goodie two shoes is trying to dance through life, but it's hard to hear the beat over all the yelling:$ This blog would be so much easier. Right? Follow around a dude who solves mysteries and I give my own account of what happened, sans Sherlock brain. My life is so dull sometimes. Though, I don't long for the gravity of the adventures Sherlock embarks upon. Murders, blackmail, kidnapping and I want to pretend to do them. In a world where everything is planned and weighted and done by a stunt coordinator first. I want the made up adventures.
I want very much to be significantly more adventurous. The thing that worries me, is that if I was that adventurous, I wouldn't worry. But I do. Which makes me a Watson. Les sigh. Now, don't get me wrong. I make a great sidekick. I am the best 1960's Robin. I am a fantastic Tonto. But I don't want to be just a Girl Friday. Sometimes I want to take down the bad guy...but without all that pesky danger stuff. Might that be arranged? I want to be brave in the least threatening situation. Match point Watson. The great thing about a relationship like that? If Sherlock didn't need him for something, he wouldn't be there. The dynamic only works when they work together! Don't you see the pattern? Every Sherlock must have a Watson. Every Guy, had a standup Gal. There's a hand for every glove type thing. Like in tha'Movies. Things move in groups and pairs. Every single one meaning something special to the other. A world of support systems. Spanning a lifetime. What a fabulous feeling; to be part of something so perfect. Or at least it could be , if we we're all a little more Watson sometimes. P.S. Don't even get me started on Benny, he's the world's best Sherlock:) Mmmhmmm. No offense RDJr. This week was a banner hanging record breaking, past the point of no return, let's get ready to rumble type week. As my adventures in adulthood continue; finance became priority # 1 on the never ending list, with laundry holding steady at #8. In the same week I was offered a crazy amount of credit, but none of it could be used for anything helpful; like a mortgage. Though somehow they'd be fine if I wanted to buy a boat. The very next letter I opened was a fine and a serious scolding for not paying enough to the government. Now wouldn't it be great if one group spoke to the other? One supporting my spending habits, the other keeping them in line.
If we go back to where all this finance business began for me. It started in post secondary school. Everywhere you turn there's another credit card company offering you the world via a tiny-fit in your wallet-easy, breezy shiny plastic card. What's a bright eyed optimistic theatre student to do? Soo...you sign up and go out! And out! And out! Because you only have to pay the minimum; you go out a lot. But those little minimums grow, and that balance you were carrying; starts getting big and heavy fast! Suddenly all you have is balance owing... Well, you grow up. Decide to pay a school to teach you. The government gives you 15% of zero as OSAP help. Then for the next 130 months you have to pay them back but most of that is interest. Then when you actually start making the money to pay them back, you have to pay the government for getting the job with the paycheck you were working towards. Letting you sit there for a year, unknowingly accruing another kind of interest. Then the government pipes up again with a wage change. You're held captive by being a good person. Because you want to keep flying below the radar, it's only a matter of time until they catch up to all the really bad stuff you've been doing. So, you might as well pay taxes and keep your chin up. With the government I have to pay off last year, with this year's money. Because this year's money went into the wrong account and the many branches, no, tentacles of the CRA don't speak to each other. Les sigh. So, I am paying it off as go. The problem? I am making more money this year... Oh oh. So I need to save twice the amount! And wait the twelve billion years it takes to organize any 'oversight' on their part. But Kevin-forbid you be late- for that you'll have to pay. It's a constant battle for good and evil. Well, make that evil and evil. Save me Wealthy Barber, I need some money advice. To pay anything online it costs me 1.50 or .57 cents +a stamp+ a chequing fee to mail it. It's a very complex system of cheques and balances. Two distinctly different bodies, struggling to get ahead in business. It amazes me that the world has come to such a money controlled crossroads with the important things in life quickly disappearing from sight in the rearview mirror. Though I guess I would feel better about it if that mirror was attached to my new boat. | MeliciousThese are some thoughts and stories I think I would benefit from sharing. And finally try explaining who I am. Not that I need to explain myself to you. ArchivesJanuary 2013 CategoriesAll |
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