Okay, okay, that's a made up word. But it has an implied meaning; so even though you've never heard it before you understand it. Which is a strange way to think of language but it's a great way to think about communication. Aww, you know what I mean. How many times a day do you hear someone say that? And you do know what they mean, somehow your brain makes the call. Having collected all the crucial communication information. The speaker, the topic and the time. These factors clean up sloppy lines of communication. So, let the conversation satisfication begin.
While spending some much needed time kissing tha'Babe, I couldn't help but see how little talking was required for me to understand exactly what she meant. Most of the time it was just small talk, but I would think that's even harder for an 8 month old. As we grow up we forget how to communicate on the basic human level. Please don't take this to mean we should start crying, throwing things and screaming to get our points across-though for some of us it's too late. Instead consider that a wink and smile can go a long way in all languages.
With instant communication at our fingertips. We are infinitely connected and all within arms reach. These little devices being constantly forgotten, causing heart attacks and anxiety. Most of us suffering from a severe case of the where is it?Oh there it is. Phew-itis. It's hard to comprehend how we could loose track of how important and special those names, places and photos really are. I remember the social calls. The teenage hour long conversations. The ringing doorbell. The playdates. And the Sunday check-ins. In my pocket I have all the information I could ever want. Dates, times and events all collected in one tiny hand held horcrux; communicating has never been easier. Though the digital siren's call is a tough one to ignore. It is my goal to put down my fruity apendage and really stay connected. And even if I can't peel it off; I will never underestimate the power of a smile. Now, that's what I call satisfication. Oh, you know what I mean.
Writing, every person who can write, does. That's not to say that every person can do it well. And people who practise can typically write even better. Well, people, I can do it, I do it well and I practise. That should stand on it's own. But it doesn't, writing is something that is beautifully read in the eyes of the beholder. The value of those words and stories depend on the reader. People who can read, do it. And do it everyday. And people who can write will continue to do it. Hopefully they do it well. Otherwise what would happen in a world without stories?
I want to write stories and tell tales and maybe even spin a yarn or two. I always have. I want to tell stories to people. Stories that roll around in my head. The characters I hang with when I am on my own, and the mischief they get into. But I want to be able to work on them, because I love them. But asking for money for something you love. Well, that just makes me feel guilty. Wanting to be working at something you're in love with, seems greedy. Most people are happy with a job, a steady pay check- Too bad if you don't like it. Do it for the money. I should be happier that I am doing what I love and that is it's own reward. Oh and it really is. I love having inside jokes in an online world. I love that I have been tough enough on myself to stick with it. But it does seem kinda lack luster when your big launch happens and it's just you typing at a computer and your dog waiting to go for a walk. Also there's a missing thank you cuz I want to reward you for reading. For making this an emotional success for me. I do want to start working on more of a contractual basis, you know like a job. But here's the problem, I don't have any experience.
I don't have experience? Okay, I am not sure how much more practise I will need before I start gaining some "experience". I have not dealt with deadlines. Because daily entries for 11 months straight, is a flimsy work ethic. Oh a track record. Perhaps a school newspaper? Head of the Young Voices of Canada club? Maybe I have 2 years to work as an unpaid intern in a publishing firm or daily rag. I should have a degree in journalism with at least 5+ years of online media editorial experience. Alright, alright already, I am so I'm not Arianna Huffington. And I am not saying I am Tolstoy, I would never be that presumptuous. I will, however wait for a critic to say it, then quote it on my FB fanpage and the outside jacket of my book, well series of books. Sorry, tangent, I was also writing my Oscar speech, but I can't decide which category I am accepting for. As far as I am concerned I have already climbed that well written mountain, in my mind. Now how do I photoshop this resume to prove I am up here? Cuz people are never going to believe I was. Okay, okay, so maybe they're right I do need a bit more practice. But I am on the journey to becoming an above average writer, if I do say so myself. And I just did.
It occurs to me that I don't write much about my Papa B. I think it's because we're both such private people. Don't get me wrong; we're not happy if someone else is the center of attention either. We're not great at second fiddle. We like things on our own terms. In an effort to be private, I have ensured that no one individual has enough incriminating evidence to become a problem. Strategically placing my hair-brained endeavours across a multi-platform support system. Weaving a spiderweb of planned events and past delineations. My Papa taught me that. A social strategy is important if your livelihood depends on your reputation. Though if I was honest I really think it's a power struggle. Not between good and evil, but just to feel powerful enough to bend destiny to my will. Okay that's a bit dramatic...but you get the idea.
Papa B and me also know everyone else's beeswax. Nicknames- which we've probably given, their relationship status, or if they have anything unusual protruding from their body. I guess we look interested. And really who doesn't like a gross medical story? But that may be more my Momma. People who have gossip, love sharing it with us, and even though I do love a good chin wag-I forget most of the secrets I'm told as soon as they're told to me. Cuz for the most part they aren't that juicy a secret to begin with. Except that thing oh, with the Ewww yeah- that was juicy.*insert dreamy eye roll.
My Papa and I are simpatico. Same strange tan lines and deadly baby blues. He gets my jokes- the first time- no explanation. And it helps me to have a strong voice on my side especially since some of the voices in my head put up such a fight. I know he's proud of me. I've almost bankrupted him because he thinks I am talented and wants to support me -literally- in all my endeavours. Which reminds me Papa B, can I borrow $500 bucks?*wink- half kidding. But Papa B, the very best thing about you is that you gave me the creative flu. Symptoms include verbal diarrhea and a sensitive gag reflex with nil filter. I hope it's contagious- cuz Hubby and I would be lucky to have a mini Papa B someday-well, mostly lucky.
Yesterday was my 1 year wedding anniversary. Hurray! It's paper. The year wasn't easy but it sure was interesting and awesome. There was so much stuff to see and do. So, I wanted to let you know some of the things I learned:
1. My Momma loves buying hats.
2. Condos stoves do not accommodate an 8 quart roasting pan with lid.
3. If you ask nicely enough your Hubby will take care of it because you're so busy. (must be busy to qualify)
4. Positive reinforcement goes a long way.
5. It's easier to let Hubby do what he wants than try and convince him otherwise. Though he's finally realized that I am the one who knows how to find the fun.
6. Some people talk and some people do. But it's best to be a bit of both.
7. Actions speak louder than words. Except yelling, that's the loudest.
8. Telling someone to relax has the opposite effect.
9. Teaching each other to be better people is a fun activity.
10. Mastering social flow of conversation is key to becoming a social master.
11. Rock Hudson and Danny DeVito are both sexy for different reasons.
12. A bed is not sleepable until there is at least 2 teeny furry bodies in it.
13. Being married means giving gifts as a couple.
13a. It also means someone taking 1/2 the credit for your wicked gift.
14. My Hubby can be very persuasive when he wants to be.
15. An August anniversary is perfect timing. Except when it falls on a Monday after FanExpo.
16. Paper is not a good gift. Unless there is a former prime minister on it.
17. I would rather have chicken wings and a lemon drop with our favourite bartender than fancy-it-up for my anniversary dinner.
18. Being married to the Karaoke host is just as brutal as dating him. Drunk girls love the karaoke host.
19. People remember what they got you for your wedding. And think you use it while they're there to impress them- when really you use it all the time.
20. Gift certificates are the 2nd best gift.
21. I am a workaholic for the wrong reasons on the wrong things.
22. Working opposite shifts is hard on your relationship but great for shower schedules.
23. Being a newlywed has a different feeling, that doesn't last long enough.
24. Tough Ole' Papa B likes to hug us all- including Bucy and the Bean.
25. I did good picking such a rocking Hubby. And I even love him the days I might not like him.
26. Everybody can dance to Bluegrass.
27. I am lucky My other Mother is as great as she is.
28. Having inside jokes as a married couple surprises people.
29. People love giving newlyweds advice- especially if their marriage didn't work out.
30. Marriage isn't easy. But our lives are better because of it.
This last year has changed both of us. And for the next marital year we have already made our resolutions. It's exciting and I look forward to helping those things happen. We are becoming two braver and bolder people with each other's love and support; I wouldn't bet against these underdogs. Watch me! Watch Us! Watch out! The honeymoon might be over, but I am still over the moon.
On my way to work I found a wallet. Jammed full of papers- could've been receipts, money or the perfect standup comedy routine; I didn't look inside to see. While standing there, wallet in hand I made the decision to hand it over to the authorities. As I was on the bus platform, those authorities were TTC officers. While walking back to the ticket booth, I saw a man running frantically past me, scouring the area, looking for something and looking hard. As he passed me I spoke up: "Excuse me? What are you looking for?" Catching himself he pulled me into focus and realized I was holding a man's wallet. A smile crossed his face and a sigh escaped his lips: "That! I am looking for that." Now, I have no way of knowing if it was actually his wallet- but the odds are in his favour.
Growing up I heard many great stories about being a good Samaritan. Three travelers on the highway, the Mermaid and the Woodcutter and Red Rose and Snow White. Each one rewarded for their generous quality of spirit, though not always financially. Generosity and kindness aren't things that can be quantified, though it would be nice to be known as the best Good Samaritan. But no matter how much effort I put into being one, there's always someone better at it than me. Now, I know it's not a competition for goodness but nobody likes winning a scruffy bronze at the Samaritan games.
As for that man and his lost wallet, I gave it to him and he began running frantically back towards the bus he thought he was sure to miss. With barely a thank you, I was left standing empty handed on the platform. As important as finding his wallet was to him, he forgot that I was honest enough to give it back, unopened and safe. Leaving me to wonder if being a good person was my reward, or if the universe would make a deposit into my Karma account. I am hoping it's option 2; cuz I could really use a low interest Karmortgage.
There has been a rash of losses around me. Thankfully none have affected my life directly. Fingers crossed/knock on wood. There have been a few people who're moving away or leaving town but nothing as permanent as death. And seeing others go through that type of loss serves as a reminder that it is a constant possibility. A day without loss is a lucky day. There is also a big difference between the long drawn out planned departure and a tragic shock, though neither one is easier.
While awaiting a planned departure; watching an illness slowly erode the person we love. Waiting as your loved one drips away. This is not something I wish upon anyone, though it does allow for time to spend together, taking advantage of their final weeks, days and hours, telling them how you feel and saying your goodbyes. The projected timeline bleak and knowing that though the Doc said 5 months, everyday is a gift.
The tragic shock is hard to recover from. With all the unexpected events happening each day- people unwittingly putting themselves in harm's way just to get to work or take time off. People ripped away while trying to live their lives. Heart attacks, bike accidents, falls and many other momentary lapses in judgement can steal you from those you love. Leaving behind questions and unfinished business. A shocked sadness that fills a funeral home with unasked questions, never to be answered.
Two different poisons with the same effect. Neither way could ever be called: Better. So, my dear friends with burning eyes red from crying, with your loved one's memory in tow, I will celebrate your life today. Please love each other now for tomorrow may be too late. The sands of time wait for no man. After years of watching my Grandma Near slowly loose her memory. Each loved one becoming a stranger to her. Forgetting herself but knowing there's something missing. The tragic emptying of the human soul, as she lays impatiently waiting for mercy. On the other side my Grandma Far sat knitting, and drifted off to sleep; finding rest eternally. Dying of a broken heart and leaving the rest of us to mourn her abrupt departure. I hope for the sake of my family that the thing I lose will be my body- taking my mind with it swiftly and quietly. And when my time is finally through I want people to speak of me with honor, dignity and love. Which is how I wish them to speak of me today. Friends, family and loved ones: lend me your years. For it won't be long enough before we're gonna need each other to lean on.
When I first brought my would-be-Hubby home; Papa B pulled him aside and asked: 'Are you getting used to doing things her way yet?' to which Hubby laughed... Little did he know. I am a tad/lot controlling. Not in a bad way; in a the shortest-distance-between-two-points it's my way or the highway -way. If there is a simple way of doing something I will find it. And if your doing something and ask me to help, I immediately take control of the whole project, even if I don't want to do it. Not a great feature in a partner/teammate/roommate/employee/wife or child. Of which I have been all.
I correct everyone. Hubby says I am not supposed to tell people when they're doing things 'wrong'. He goes on to say just because I am like my Papa B, doesn't mean I get to run things in this one dog-town. But I like things my way. For example, I go on bursts of cleaning. Sprees of cleanliness. Organizing everything, so that when I come home from a long day, I don't have to do anything domestically. That means I have to make sure it isn't a disaster before I leave. But Hubby knows by Thursday that the teeny pile of projects on my desk will become a heaping mound of laundry and mail, with a new book thrown in, a cluster of knick knacks and a comedy writing journal. A pile of my working titles and things I hope to have time for...eventually. My way is to sit in that pile for the week and absorb all the life from those things; taking it all in and loving every bit of it. His way is to throw all that laundry into the dirty clothes hamper and hide any evidence of work from our home. Then he promptly remarks on the amount of laundry there is.
My way can be a sloppy and disorganized mess. Taking me off my direct route. Do you ever wish you could take your own advice? As for Hubby, I think he pretends to do things my way so he can stay on the shortest path with the least resistance on the road to his carefree destination. Cuz no one should waste their lives fighting with a control freak over laundry.
I am drinking my own Kool-aid. While sitting on the sofa my Kitty swiftly and silently planted herself within arms reach; a sure sign that she wants some loving'. Upon realizing she was there, even though I didn't want to become involved in a furry-purry-festival, I recalled writing about being an affectionate Momma the day before. So, I held myself accountable and began a fur-affair. Uh oh! If I write it it comes true. I am holding myself to a higher standard. If I say I am going to do it in a blog post, it gets done. I am becoming the personality I created online.
There was a time not so long ago, I was filled with big dreams and they tumbled out of an even bigger mouth. But they just fell to the floor and lay there like dead leaves only to blown away by the hot air my big mouth kept huffing. With the fickle nature of any artist, I would start a project and then loose interest. But writing it down really does force you to be accountable. People are shocked by the amount I can write and how quickly. Is it all good? I'm no Stephen King, but I manage.
Having a great idea is one thing. Having a great idea actually become something, even if that something isn't very good, is better. Magic says 'You miss 100% of the baskets you don't shoot." Well, 100 is too many percent. I was tired of being unhappy- so I faked it. I pretended to be happy...and now I am. I am really, really happy actually. I feel more like myself than I ever have before. Not everything is perfect but Roddammit, it's a lot better. Learning to love something by working through the hate is the best training for life. Life will always be hard work, even the easy things can be a challenge. I never thought I could actually enjoy working this hard and not getting paid for it. But I also can't believe that I haven't been doing this longer.
My actions have started speaking for me. Even louder than my words if that's conceivable. Accountability and being true to one's word are great new character traits I have cultivated in myself. I am practicing what I preach! And I love everyday of this weird and wacky life I've chosen. The best thing is you can change the things you don't like about yourself, as long as you're able to let that Crazy-lazy-no good-all talk-Biatch-go! And I gave her the not-so-nice exit music and her digital walking papers. Optimism agrees with me, I think I'll have another half full glass of Kool-aid :)
PS: If these blogs actually come true I would like the following: 1. Book deal 2. International comedy tour 3. Secluded country house on a hill near a lake, surrounded by trees; the perfect place for writing 4- 9. Items to be added as BFF, Bro, Momma and Hubby submit their wants.
Today is the first day in the rest of your life. While riding the stinky Dufferin bus I noticed a sign: Don't look back, you're not going that way. Which applies to life but also driving..? Wait, no, not driving. You should definitely look back while driving-actually I think that's why cars have rearview mirrors. Anyway, I am looking ahead in life. Today is the day. Today is a day for doing, for hanging in there baby, for reaching for the stars. The problem most of us face is motivation, no wait, prioritizing... No, the problem is overstimulation or is it laziness? Maybe it's indecision, but I never can quite put my finger on it.
All my life I have been inspired by stories of Princesses who fall asleep and wake to a life in a castle with a Prince. Well, that's all grand and great for them, but they were born Princesses. I'd always dreamed of touring the world- well at least North America- performing *insert talent here for overcapacity stadiums. Now, you may have noticed I didn't insert a talent...that's cuz the dream only got as far as riding the tour bus and greeting the screaming hoards with autographs and oversized sunglasses. My talents vary though it's tough to pin them down. I longed for the prestige of being a Fortune 500 -30 under 30: Having invented an easy way to finally achieve perfect unfluffable hair or flawless makeup that prevents you from sweating, really anything that would make life easier. Perhaps a Robo-Tony to keep my life in order, ya know, something big. I have big dreams and found myself trapped in the cycle of talk about-do nothing-move on-begin to talk of my new dream. That's the dream pitfall; sometimes you get trapped in a place that looks like your house with a woman who doesn't looks like you but somehow you know it is:)
So, wake up sleepy Jean! Today is the day to start. Today is to be seized. Since starting this diatribe in February I have realized how hard it is to actually do it. But now we're past the point of no return. I can't just stop- give up- go back to dreaming. Though now my dreams are bigger. Which after realizing how much hard work they take, makes no sense, but they are. The great thing about seizing the day- it becomes yours. Do with it what you will. Talk is fine. Dreams even better. But DOING is the most integral part of getting closer to your dreams. For too long I have been a Grasshopper- waiting for the world to give. It is time to be an Ant. The best thing about Ants is they know how to work together to achieve their goals. And it turns out I have big dreams. So, work with me people:) or just work it!
Unless you've been living under a rock the last month you've probably heard about the strange behaviour of one particular 'merican fast food chain. And I say strange because it's not something I would associate with chicken. You say chicken, I say fingers. You say gay marriage, I say chicken burger... nope one of those things is not like the other.
Having grown up in an artistic community, I know about the fabulous gays. And going to a theatre school meant I knew most of my classmates were gay before they wanted to tell anybody. But I love them and not because they're gay, but because they're wicked. On the religious front, growing up amongst the United Christian folk, I was taught that everyone is equal and deserves love, no matter what. A puppy murderer, a Disney villain and me: we all deserve love. The greatest of these gifts is love. I guess the problem I have is, didn't anyone tell this "Christian" restaurant that it's not nice to be bigots?
In a time when there is so much prejudice, why would a self-proclaimed community leader want to lead anyone astray? Who gave chicken the divine right to pick who to love? Or marry? Or even who can get married? What's love got to do with a marinated filet, other than being a typically dry dinner choice at a convention centre wedding, obviously. Let's try this again: you say gay marriage, I say "hells ya!". Now, that's more like it.
I know it's hard to be judged, but why should a dick-head chicken place have any opinion about marriage - gay, straight or otherwise? My Momma taught me that people who don't like you, aren't worth your time. Chick-fil-A obviously has their priorities bocked. Considering more than 50% of marriages end in divorce, why would we think that gay marriage could make those numbers different? Plus, if anyone knows how to throw a great wedding it's the gays. I mean, look at how many top shelf planners they have! In the end, I think if Chick-fil-A had their way, we'd all be fat, stupid, judgemental, narrow minded morons. But wait! They already are. As for me, I will dance the chicken dance at any celebration of love and marriage, as long as there's a vegetarian option.
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