Take Me Home

10/10/2012

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  They say you can never go home again and after meeting some people's families I can understand why they may never want to.  But it is also true that you can never travel the same road twice and life has a strange way of sneaking up on you.  While spending Thanksgiving with my Bro, Momma and Papa B, I was me and Hubby was himself.  We didn't put on an act.  We didn't have to be anyone else.  There were a few times when our not-so-awesome-selves came out- par example- when seen fighting in the local chocolate store or overheard lecturing regarding health values while passing the highway Arby's, but a few hitches ain't so bad...I guess.  Oh yeah, and there was the Dinner and a Movie event my Momma invited us to where Hubby of course hassled me about laughing too loud in the theatre, though who can resist the sound of laughter amplified by a beautifully resonant space?  It would be wrong of me not to laugh out loud.  No matter what, I love going home.  But where does my heart truly lie?

   They say home is where your heart is, and my home is in Toronto.  The work I love is here, I met the man I love here, my life is here.  I love the CN Tower and it's light show- currently on hold for avian migration.  I love that there are kitchens in the city open for a late night eater.  I love that there is sushi within 1 block of you, no matter where you are.  I love the Red Rocket- even though I know I shouldn't.  It feels like the start of an adventure every time I drop that shiny token into the clinking slot.  I love complaining about our Dumb-sass mayor.  I love how close I am to all these people I love.  I love seeing a different style on everybody I meet.  I love the passion for life and the hustle and bustle. How could I not love my home?

   Then there's the darkness of a country road where my heart feels full.  The darkness broken by the bright shining stars we hardly see in the city.  I love the smells, even the poopy ones.  I love the panoramic colours that span every horizon.  I love the quiet.  The feeling that the neighbours can hear what you're thinking.  Having neighbours that have known me since I was this big* insert knee high to a grasshopper action.  Here is a heartfelt welcome no matter how long it's been.  I love knowing people and them knowing me.  I love picking up a conversation I've been having with someone for the last 20 years right where we left off.  How could I not love this home?

   Hubby says creating a home is key to having a happy life.  Home- a place to rest your head, your heart and your body.  A place of comfort.  A place to recharge your batteries.  But what happens when 2 totally different places feel like home?  A spilt like that can be tough to stitch together.  There aren't many people who can afford two homes or even one home in this market.  And after being threatened with the sale of my childhood home, I begged my parents not to sell their house; a place I consider my home.  I know where all their dishes go, I planted the tree in the side yard from a sapling that was barely a stick, I know why the wall has that chip, I love this home.  But Hubby, Momma & Papa B; here's the thing I want you to know, I've realized: A true home- the real place that your heart is, it's with the people and not with the buildings.  Now, I have to stop, before all this lovey-dovey stuff makes me homesick-to my stomach:)
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Thankful Giving

10/4/2012

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   While walking my pretty Puppa-roo across Queen St on a beautiful fall day I realized something. Almost every store we go into offers her a treat.   And my Puppa is excited for every gift. Whether big cookie or little milk bone, she over-eagerly accepts all gifts- then I saw- when she wasn't getting a treat her interest wained. Pulling without subtlety back towards the place she last got treated. Oh no. I have created not only a chubby Jilly Bean no neck, but a bad gift receiver and a greedy puppy.  A selfish and no good spoiled brat. And that makes me a bad Momma.  Not the type of Momma I want to be.

 Before I cast all the blame unto Bean for her lack of grace when accepting a gift I must reflect upon my own.  For all my pomp and circumstance and big loud voice and funny dance moves, I am actually quite shy. Now, as an actress you may think that's weird.  However, I don't mind the attention of an audience- an audience doesn't try to get to know you. Doesn't try to figure you out. They just let your character wash over them. The only pressure on you is to give a performance you're proud of. That's a gift I can give! Otherwise, I am a terrible gift giver.  Or have been, until recently.  I have been giving cash at weddings and gift certificates for most everything else.  I am sorta generous. I just don't want anyone to feel like they should ever have to give me a gift. So, I try and avoid those situations altogether. Until I made my lifetime friends- they won't let me off the hook.  And they are the best gift givers I've ever met, so it's quite an obstacle. Their gifts have inspired my intention to be a better giver and receiver.

  Here are a few of the key ingredients I've learned about giving and getting perfect gifts.  Something special comes from listening, looking and feeling- both the person and receiver- presumably a friend or family member- and their surroundings.  Take mental notes or have Siri take one for you.  Create dates in your calendar. Paying attention is key. Customized gifts are great but allow time for delivery. Also you can never go wrong with a genuine smile, warmly written card and eye contact. Receiving someone's gratitude is a key aspect of the cycle of being a talented giver. And never underestimate giving someone the gift of time.  Life is busy and short, why not give the gift of togetherness? A dinner out or a home cooked meal, perhaps an offer to help with that nagging DIY project.  

  In the past I have been equally bad at giving and receiving- but I'm working on it.  That's a gift to me. However, that treat eating, greedy little fur baby dragging me down Queen St , never gave me anything but unconditional love.  Well, there's a new Sheriff in town and Jilly better start rolling over to my new way of thinking.  She needs to learn a new trick or two- otherwise this old dog won't get her any new treats. Plus I like browsing Queen St and not every store has a treat for the Stinker, some treats are for your gifted Momma;)

Happy Thanksgiving! And getting!
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The Starving Artist: Chapter 3: Mirror, Mirror

9/30/2012

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  There have been more than a few times this past summer when upon catching an image of myself in a shiny surface I've been disappointed.  I look tired and worn out.  All used up and puffy.  My smile is tight and quite clearly needs a long winter's nap.  And I look fat- not cartoon fat, and not obese, just scrunchy.  So I harumpf and then take a deep breath and encourage myself to go on.  Though thinking lesser of yourself is the worst kind of torture.  Every step being taken is a drip in an already full bucket.  Step- you're ugly. Step- everyone sees it. Step- you should be better. Step- you've given up.  Until I turn my feet around and head back towards home.  The only place I can hide away in my jogging pants and loose fitting t-shirt.  I know where the mirrors are here and I can go for days without really looking at myself.  Tricky part is, not every mirror is telling the truth, and not everyone can spot a lie.

   I remember hearing that you're never as fat as you think you are.  Which is as true for people with low self esteem as it is for prima ballerinas.  But some people are exactly as fat as they think they are. I am just not sure which category I fit into.  I know that my skinny jeans are tight...but that's to be expected. They are skinny jeans...how skinny they should be is a different question entirely.  I know that I spend a lot of time yanking and pulling and arranging my clothes, but tiny little movie stars have a wardrobe person doing that to them as well.  It's a strange and infuriating juxtaposition.

  At Canada's Wonderland after a day of being soaking wet and half drying and then getting wet again, I dragged myself into the washroom as night fell.  The harsh florescent lighting revealed that the fun I was having had taken a toll.  My mascara had dripped and caked under my eyes trapped under the long day's sunscreen.  My shirt was clingy and mishappen from being soaked by white water rapids.  My skin looked greasy and yellow.  The shorts I had on, welcome to Camel toe town. I was a nightmare.  And just like that- all the fun I had been charging up on all day was drained.  I felt stupid and ugly, fat and I wanted to go home.  So, I walked my soggy running shoes out to the parking lot and said g'night with a growl.  Looking terrible ruined my eve, and here I was thinking I wasn't superficial. 

   This past weekend after dancing my tail feather off at my bro-in-law's wedding and receiving compliments on my pretty dress and nice hairstyle and 8 Likes on a photo posted on FB; I was feeling alright about myself.  That's when nature called again.  So, heading from the dark dance floor where I was feeling hair-tossingly sexy, I went to the very bright bathroom.  As I washed my hands I caught sight of a sweaty forehead, raccoon bandit style eyes, girl with hair stuck to her face and a flush that only colours someone with high-blood pressure after exertion.  And after taking all that in, I realized it was me. Les Sigh. Even when I feel like I am at my best I fall below my lofty standards.  BFF is quick to say that I expect too much of myself.  But I am quicker to respond, Why would I allow anything less than my best self to be the person I am?  So, starving for something can be good, but it sounds like it might be a bigger commitment than just change of diet.  I need to put myself on a life diet, and cut out the shit.  Because I am tired of feeling I can do better without actually doing it.  And I know too many people who regret not being their better self, without knowing they can be.  So, Mirror, Mirror, expect to see a lot more of me.  I may not like you now, but soon enough magic will make you work for me.  And we'll both see the change.
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