Please find attached 2 relatively related rants:
Rant the First
Hubby and I are chronic renters. We prefer small cozy city living. Snuggled up in tight quarters. Small spaces but with great windows that on a clear night can see all the way to Bloor St. But to make way for progress our panoramic view is quickly depleting. It is a sad day for open space loving small townies like us. I liked the view from here. It's a great location... Location, location. Real Estate has never been my forte. It sounds really interesting at first until I realize the stories I hear about these amazing gems with nob and tube aren't in my future. I don't want a fixer upper in the city that's been lived in by 15 different people and none of them cared. Bleached and barnacled and tired from city living. It's not my cup of T.o. There is a dream though, a teeny little quiet dream. The wish is to have a house that's been in someone's family for generations and, this is silly; it's been deemed historically significant. Our house would be a part of the history of something bigger. Our very very very fine house, would have 2 cats in the yard. A story to tell. A song to sing. Our house would have personality. The stairs would creak and the wind might whisper on occasion but it would hold the secrets of history. Of course, it would be a pain to maintain all the structural integrity in accordance with the local historical society bi-laws; a challenge Future Me willingly accepts. But for now we live in a city shoe box, without a story. And the wide screen we were watching life on is shrinking. I guess I'll really have to go outside.
Rant the Second
The giant hole that is my backyard is a muddy disaster. Clay and gravel and slick squishy mud coat my pathway home. Covering my boots and imbedding itself in my tread. Stomping and dragging my feet the whole way. Trying to shake off the filth. When I do get inside the view is like an exposed root after the tooth has been ripped out. The bottom which is almost 4 stories down is dotted with tents to protect the men working in these conditions. Giant flood lights click on at sunset and push the crew to quitting time. The holes have been drilled, the rebar impacted. Cranes have been brought in to move the cranes in. The skeleton structures floating over head. Suspended and riveted. They are sleeping giants. Not quite ready for action. But I can hear them practicing their shriek, stretching for the long job ahead. I get why people want to live in the city. I mean obviously I do, it's just that how many more of us does there need to be? In such tight quarters and with all this mud and dog pooh, you can't ever wear nice shoes. Fancy city night living shoes. Shoes you hoped to look nice in, ensemble shoes. Been a long time since my feet were fancied up. Also down side, there is a lot of stomping in my building. Mud clots dot the hallway carpets. But winter is coming. The anticipation of frozen clay is killing me. Though, I don't think it will be a respite. By the time it gets cold enough to freeze everything's gross and soggy anyway. The once dirty route now becoming treacherous. It will be a slippery layer of icing on top of the so-hard-it-hurts-to-fall when you fall on it permafrost. (Notice I said when. I accept I will fall. It's slippery) At least while I am hibernating this winter, trying to pick the pooh out of my boot tread, I can watch the cranes spin and twill and finally grow up to be elevators. A dirty festering hole like that? The dentist would recommend a filling, at least 9 out of 10 of them would.
Willowing in the darkness that daylight savings brings
Hibernation drawing nearer
The hours and days gliding by on tracks, preventing diversion
Eliminating adventure, restricting exploration
Temperamental weather covering the hard pan dirt
Packed down into pathways
Wrapping us in single servings of loneliness
The darkness highlights the breath escaping warmed bodies
Visible in the early darkness
Streetlights haloed in the mists of nightfall
A tight hunched stance to protect from the elements
Pink cheeks burnt with the bite of another screaming wind
Warm noses chilled with the icy touch of bitterness
Leaves left and gone, given up
Tired from the effort of holding on
Finding comfort in the comforter
Wringing with the near winter chill
Hot chocolate ringing my dear's darkest ills
The winter's pill swallowed for another long season
Sleep's long fingers inviting
Beckoning, bleating
Their wooly warmth fleeting
Shadows and shivers stretching along our length
Savings with nothing to bank
A necessary lightness withheld
Unsprung and undercover we wait
Lured by the comfort of our love
Warmth wishing us well for another long hazy winter
Tucked sweetly in the loving arms of Mother Nature
Awaiting the sweet gentle bounce of green bursting through brown and grey
The spring of another celebratory summer waiting to unwrap us gently
But for now the long winter's embrace enfolds us
A chilling reminder of summer's quick step
We wait, ever patient, we'll wait
Growing thoughts in the garden of your mind. There's a feeling when an idea is just a tickle. Hiding untold secrets like pollen or maple keys. Ticking time lapse photography as the idea starts to germinate. Splitting open like the seeds of fortune. Sprouting stems and growing into the flowers of imagination. Before you know it, you're tending to row on row; heavy with the fruits of your labour.
Have you been thinking about something? Something important. Something that just won't uproot itself from your mind. Maybe you've lost something or you're formulating a complex theory about *insert science methodology here. Maybe it's a never ending to do list. If you're lucky it's a beautiful concept yet to be planted. But what if it's a weed? Strangling all your smaller thoughts and blocking out the sun? When you're working on a problem, it can be hard to hoe another row. But sometimes the only thing that ever really removes a stubborn stone is to stop thinking so much. Think about something else. That's the way brains work. Your mind is a delicately balanced eco-system. Sun, rain and love will help your thoughts to grow up strong and healthy.
I don't have a green thumb by any means, but I live for spring flowers and summer fruits. Every spring ideas burst forth in radiant colour. But beware. Winter is coming. Now is the time to plant your thought bulbs. Let them take root. Awaking as the winter earth thaws. Your idea will poke it's delicate green stem through the softening ground. Waiting patiently for that spring sunshine to warm the earth. For me spring is further away than I can stand. Perhaps I should invest in a greenhouse to cultivate my ideas all year round.
Hurricane Sandy is expected to make landfall late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. But we won't know her full affect until Wednesday. Now Ontario has already been dealing with a peer pressure system of it's own and the dire combination could, apparently, be just that. Winds could hit highs of 150 km/h in some areas. That's like a bajillion times faster than the average sexy hair toss. Waves on the Great Lakes could be five to seven metres high. Or maybe even as high as a million mouse boats. It's not a good time to be a worst case scenario Sally or a Debbie downright awful. So, how does one prepare for being without power? In a flooded home? I am not sure actually. Plus weather like this really blows my mind.
Now, those of you who know me, know me to be a teeny bit high strung. A worry wart. Obsessive even. But for some reason, I am not one who worries about a little bit of weather. That's probably because a snow storm seems a more likely Ontario disaster than a hurricane blowing in off the coast. It's not the big problems I am nervous about it's getting to and from work safely- cuz people aren't at their best when they're panicked. Kevin forbid the film industry take a day off- as they say the show must go On! And as fun as being sent home early from work might be...it has a tendency to bring out irrational behaviour. Including but not limited to: purchase of multiple 72 hour emergency kits, stockpiling water, barricading windows, weird FB updates and waterproofing personal belongings. I am also expecting to hear a few Mayan calendar conversations. Predictions of the future and our impending doom. Nastradamus and whatnot. Panic effects people very differently, but most of it's irrational. Except the panic that I've lost my smartphone, that's totally rational.
Uncertain times call for certain adventures. I am planning on packing items together so I know where to find them, if I wake up in the dark. Placing a flashlight next to my bed, just in case. I am also trying to eat the contents of my freezer- for if the power fails- it's bye bye fish sticks. All in all I'm sad this possible disaster is wind and water. I was kinda hoping the apocalypse would be of the Zombie variety. And that the day after tomorrow would be a new start for those of us wiry enough to plan for an undead invasion. Though if you ask someone who uses the Mayan calendar, you'd know the apocolypse isn't 'til December. So, for now, even though the weather blows, I guess we'll just have to soak it up. Hurricane Sandy wants to keep us on our toes, even if they are soaking wet.
* Red Cross urges people in the storm’s path to have supplies ready in case hydro power is out for up to 72 hours.
In an industry where youth is celebrated- sought after and faked, turning another year older can be a lot to recover from. Birthdays are supposed to be special. The one day to feel celebrated. One day a year where you are the number 1, top banana, king of the day; unless of course you're a twin. A day to be doted on. Loved and adored by those who love and adore you. Receiving birthday wishes from all those who think I'm something special. Family and friends eager to enjoy my company. But how does getting older really feel?
My Grandma Near; before she lost her mind to dementia said to me: "I don't remember getting old. I was 22 then I was 80, but that 22 year old is still in here."*pointing to her noggin. Then she asked me how babies were made. Strange disease Alzheimer's, forgetting who you are before your done with being yourself. But that's a story for another day. Growing older I have started to understand the importance of making memories. The urge to celebrate and be with the ones you love. Growing up, well, growing taller I can't help but wonder what the future holds for me. And most of all I've realized that just because you're not doing something doesn't mean things aren't happening. You can't stop progress. I think that getting older is a good thing for me. It's hard to admit that I won't be a reckless teen or self-involved twenty-something ever again. I am becoming a responsible adult. I am growing into my hit- acting-wise. Which should be a good thing*fingers, legs, arms and toes crossed. I am digging on being a grown up...except the ever increasing creases.
After all the indulgence birthdays bring, I will be happy to get back to veggies. The day after my party I had a sugar hangover and my tongue was swollen from sour candies. Plus my just-washed-jeans were a little tighter that morning. My body had just started being healthy for reasons of business and pleasure. And was starting to feel good. But now that I am one year older it won't be so easy staying in shape says Hubby who's been (infuriatingly) the same size since we met. Happy Birthday to me. I am glad to make these new resolutions with you. Here's to a Happy New Year of Melicious:)
This past weekend I had the pleasure of being the best-man's date to my Bro-in-Law's wedding. It was a split crowd; people I knew and total strangers. People who love me and people I will never see again. There is a wonderful duality when you're popularity is rumoured and unconfirmed. And it's amazing what you can learn.
Things I learned about weddings this past weekend:
1. You get to dance to the summer's top 40 pop songs, and somehow everyone knows them
2. It's a celebration of love. Everyone's love
3. You don't mind offering to get drinks at a venue where the booze is free
4. There are so many people, it's not offensive to only spend a little time with someone
5. Everyone tries to put their best food forward
6. Family inside jokes are in play
7. Even the grumpiest of men has a smile on their face
8. It's okay to shed a tear over the people we love who couldn't be there
9. You know at least 1/2 the people at this party
10. It's one of the 5 times a year you can convince your Hubby to dance with you
11. A beautiful venue really can reflect the love a couple has for one another
12. Bridesmaids' dresses can be beautiful enough to wear again
13. Fall weddings rock!
14. It's okay to eat the meat at a wedding when an environmentalist plans the menu
15. Watching pretty bridesmaids share inside jokes about the bride makes me miss my bridesmaids
16. There is no such thing as a stress free wedding
17. Photographers need to take charge and shrink the lengthy posing process
18. DJs should be pretty or handsome to invite requests
19. Caesars for apps, wine with dinner and beer for dancing is still a deadly combination
20. No matter how I protest, I always work at every event a little bit
21. My 2nd Momma was just as nervous the 2nd time around
22. Feathers are so hot right now
23. A pit bull off his leash will go straight for the bride in the frilly shimmering dress
24. A great DJ will sometimes play the same song twice
25. Even if you can't hear or understand what someone is saying, you can assume it's something nice
26. A great speech can come in many formats
27. A blended family is the only kinda'family that exists anymore
28. No matter how early you leave there's always a chance you'll be late
29. A flowing 70's chiffon dress with a wide belt is a great choice for a three course meal
30. Deciding to be the most fun person in the room is not a tough decision to make
31. A cordless mic encourages pacing
32. McDonald's is the best at midnight
33. Summer Loving is still the best air-band song ever
34. A wedding brings a family together with so much more happiness than a funeral
35. A wedding vow takes love and laughter to sound appropriate to the couple
36. After planning your own, you know how much love was poured into every other wedding you attend
37. A night without Jilly doesn't mean a dog won't keep us up all night
Congrats Bro-in-Law and Sis-for-life, welcome to the club! We're new members but the hazing hasn't been too bad and the old members are happy to have us. I look forward to seeing our lives grow together. Enjoy your honeymoon.
Singing, humming, toe tapping and moving to the beat. Not everyone hears the music of life. In everything we do there is rhythm. The sound of your heartbeat, the pace of your breathing. The rustle of the breeze through autumn's crispy leaves. The sound of footsteps on the subway stairs and the whistle of the wind through the tunnel. Music is all around us.
Everyday starts as a new symphony. There are days when you feel like an oboe- Forlorn and lethargic. There are days like a lute- high strung and hurried. There are days you're an accordion- moaning and squeezing at various paces. But the best days, the most fabulous days are the days that ring like a Ukulele. Now I may be prejudiced but there is no emotion a ukulele can't convey. By strumming, chugging and finger picking; I decide how my symphony sounds and feels. I am master of my musical domain. The sheet music of my life is becoming more harmonious as I play.
With music all around us it should be no surprise I can't stop dancing through life. The fact that I have begun writing my own music is however, a surprise. When I began playing music again, I couldn't have imagined the impact would have been so great. Great- meaning both vast and amazing. I had resigned myself to the fact my voice was my sole instrument and I wasn't prepared for the ease with which I slipped into holding a new one in my hands. Since learning uke I have been invited to teach others, which I am excited for despite my inexperience. The ukulele lends itself to your every whim. And having a tight circle of local ukeists is very tempting. Bit by bit my opus is being composed and I can't wait to share it with you. But for now we should listen to the sound of the music all around us. And sway to the rhythm of life:) Happy Thursday from this strummy Uke-lady!P.S. Toronto's very best Ukology teacher is one of my fav blondes Judy Marshak
Once upon a time there was a little boy. This little boy didn't like fun; he thought it was no fun. Everywhere he went he wore a big red baseball cap, pulled down low to hide his grumpy eyes. He didn't like other people having fun and he didn't like people trying to get him to have fun. His least favourite things were cheering, smiling and laughing. One day his having-no-fun Mom took him to the carnival where he sat stone faced on the bumper cars. Hearing all the fun the other kids and grown ups were having he got mad.
'I don't like it when you laugh so loud!' he shouted at them as they banged his car and giggled on to bang another. After spinning and swirling on the Zipper and Scrambler; he still didn't like fun. The only time it looked like he was smiling was when he was hung upside down but as soon as he realized he flipped it back around. His having-no-fun Mom took him to the shows- where she yawned- watching a highflying trapeze, a tightrope and lions. Death defying acts and not a shriek or an Ooooh, not even a hoot or a clap. The stone faced pair didn't crack a smile. Walking out into the midway he ate popcorn, cotton candy and corn dogs. He even finished a pound of maple fudge but he still wasn't having any fun. His red baseball cap pulled down so far, his eyes were covered when he heard a happy fun sound. Ugh, Music. Tipping his head back to get a look past his pulled down brim. Seeing his no-fun Mom was busy texting on her phone- complaining no doubt- about the perfect weather, the happy music and her no-fun Son, the boy walked towards the music eager to put an end to it. The music was coming from a parade with a marching band and a waving crowned queen riding a float with clowns strolling alongside tossing candy and beads into the crowd. He took his cap off for the first time all day and the sunshine hit the boy's frowning face. Upon her float a crowned Queen saw his un-fun face and taking pity on the boy waved to him. The clowns were dispatched, honing in on his unhappiness, picking him up, swinging him around and putting him up onto the waving Queen's float.
'My boy,' she cooed in her queenly way, 'why so sad?' Looking up to her smiling eyes and sparkling crown, then back down to the ball cap in his hands he sighed.
'I don't like fun. I don't like cheering or chuckling or secret handshakes or games. I just don't like it. Not one bit.' The Queen looked sad, forgetting she was part of a happy carnival parade, how could it be that this little boy didn't like fun?
'Little sad boy, if you had one wish what would it be?' she asked. The boy thought as the parade cut its way through the happy dancing crowd. Deep in thought, he forgot about hating fun so much. Sitting with the Queen as she waved, he couldn't help but start waving too. At first it was just for something to do as the pondered his wish- then he started feeling a feeling he'd never felt before. A single tickle under his chin. So, he waved harder watching the way the Queen waved. The crowd watching saw the un-fun boy start to change and the louder they cheered the bigger he waved. The tiny tickle under his chin scurried it's way up to the corner of his mouth. The sad clown noticed it first. The start of a smile. The first smile the boy who hated fun ever had. The crowned Queen asked the boy again,
'If you had one wish, what would you wish?'. The boy remembered suddenly about his no-fun Mom, his first smile fading. As he put his cap back on with a sigh, he turned unsmiling to the Queen and said,
'I wish my Mom could have more fun. I think most grown-ups forget how.' With that the no-fun Son climbed down from the float and ran back through the crowd towards his no-fun Mom, who was looking for him.
'You little scamp! I lost you. What have you got to say for yourself?'. With his brow furrowed underneath his hat brim, the little boy said:
'Mom, I want you to know that fun is not my thing. But you shouldn't miss out. Life can be hard on grown ups.' Taking off his baseball cap the little boy who didn't like fun, opened up a clenched fist and offered his palm to his mother, but it was empty.
'I brought you a smile fit for a Queen, and it's perfect for your face.' handing the unseen smile over; the un-fun Mom took it and used it right away. Holding out her hand to the little boy in the red baseball cap who didn't like fun.
'Well kiddo,' the now-almost-fun Mom said, 'how about we go home and leave the carnival to the people who like fun things.' And they walked home together making sure there was no more funny business. And the now-fun Mom was wearing her queenly smile the whole way.
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.
Since my move to Queen Street, I have become very aware of this new thing called: Fads. Apparently fads aren't a new thing but my early life in a small town limited my fad experience. Having only heard of them on the Grease 2 soundtrack. But now living near the beautiful people, I've started to notice things. Take antique fans; they are quite popular. Vintage wind is very trendy. Unicorns are also hot right now. But I've loved them since I was 4. Can you spell trendsetter? Yes, yes I can, though I would never consider myself an actual trendsetter. I simply stay true to what I like and wait for it to come back into fashion. I have clothes that are poor fad choices but In my time of confusion I turn to you. And fashionably speaking Queen St., lately there have been a few misses.
First, I am concerned with the mesh-surection. I remember in the late 80's and early 90's when red mesh tanks were the hottest in men's apparel. Or worn as a black top layer over a cream coloured classy slip dress. But now it's all types of crocheted shirts and open weaves, worn over -nothing! Exposing the typically elusive crevices of the upper body. It seems as though this once classy top layer has become a solo-performer for maximum exposure. Not that I mind seeing the human form unveiled, I just don't think it complies with the shirt- shoes-service regulation. And I don't need (more) boobs in my breakfast:)
Secondly, Pabst blue ribbon. Now I have been a fan since the Chicago World's Fair- which was 1893, yeah you read that right. That was when they became the blue ribbon winner! And now I may not have been drinking it for over one hundred years. But I have always had a special place for those teeny bubbles and smooth flavour. I have also been drinking beer in cans for years cuz glasses are for Prisses. Plus who doesn't like holding a tall boy? As fab as it is though, beer cans should not be a fashion accessory. Choosing a reasonably priced alcoholic beverage shouldn't be a fad...it makes sense to pay for quality which also happens to be cheap and delicious.
But the biggest trend trouble I am having? Well, I feel like there's a fad this summer to wear high waisted short shorts that accentuate the camel's toe. No other pant, covering here or here.*insert thigh swooping gesture. Just the prominent display of the great Canadian moose knuckle...Now I was raised with the 'leave something to the imagination' school of thought and I find it very distracting to see a woman's birth canal as she rides her bike down the street. I mean, c'mon ladies, who wants to buy the cow when they get the camel toe for free? Plus it just looks plain uncomfortable.
That being said there are exceptions to every rule. Some trendy folks have taken these fad affronts and twisted them into merely mild mis-uses of fashion. I know, I know I'm supposed to say what's good for the goose is good for the gander...except when the gander in this is a 500 pound land whale laced up like a pot roast in short-shorts. Oh, I just realized that doesn't sound very nice. So here's another try. Trendsetters, be brave and bold, without being slaves. Learn how to dress for fad success & use your social compass. But the biggest trend that I hope to set is this: No matter how much is showing, you are who you are; from the top of your head to the tip of your camel toe. People, people there are so many ways to put your best toes forward, but you should be flashing 10, not 12.
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