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:)
I am just going to go ahead and coin the term North Poehler! A Canadian who loves Amy Poehler- catchy I know! Whoa! That was too many exclamation points. Anyhow, while watching Parks and Rec, I was schooled about "Treat Yo'Self"! A yearly tradition when you get to spoil yourself for the whole day. Well, being the broke sass I am, it's not likely I'll get to Treat My'self anytime soon. But since it is my birthday, I thought I would write a
"Treat Yo Self" wish list:)
1. An iPad to aide in my internet takeover
2. Unlimited Hula classes
3. Full body massage with rose water facial and scalp treatment
4. Ukulele Manicure and Kandy Korn Pedicure
5. Vaca to a sunny beach so I can catch up on my reading
6. Create a Melicious Manners logo design
7. A pretty pink princess dress complete with tiara and blonde updo wig
8. Pin-up style vintage photo shoot and new head shots!
9. Limo for 8 going to Niagara Falls to do all the quirky museums and Ripley's and a room with a view of the Falls
10. Snap up those high priced concert tickets- Maroon 5, Pink and Bon Jovi
11. A $500 gift certificate to Lululemon
12. Mojitos and Playa Cabana catering all day long
13. Those dang Ikea shelves put up by a Handy Man
14. More lessons with Ukeologist Judy!
15. Dance lessons & circus training- but that might take more than a day
16. Prepaid personal shopper with a flair for vintage
17. I was going to do wishes up to my age, but I then thought better of it:)
This list doesn't sound like much of a Treat My'self day, it sounds like a MeliciousManners Better Yo'Self list with vacations and a few future plans thrown in for colour. Sigh. It's strange to think that my treats are learning, escaping and improving. My fellow North Poehlers, I encourage you to think about ways to "Treat Yo'Self"! Maybe you should watch Parks & Rec; 22mins of awesomesauce in it's 5th season of Wowey! Available on Netflix! Another exclamation?!? Really? I need less enthusiasm or more emoticons...emoticons it is:)
Never underestimate your power. Growing up is hard. Growing up unique is even harder. This goes out to all the kiddies who have it rough. It is up to us grown ups to teach the world tolerance, and stop the things that hurt those who can't speak up for themselves.
When I was little, I was odd. I know, I know, shocking? But I was. I was mature for my age. I loved vintage when my classmates loved grunge. I sang to myself and spoke to myself and yelled at myself when I got out of hand. I spent a lot of time writing poetry in the basement on our 2nd generation desktop computer. I spent hours every day dreaming, plotting, scheming and creating stories in my head. And for a long time I was alone. I was bullied for being different. I was teased by the cookie cutter people who didn't know how much more fun it was to be themselves. All through high school I attended MM video dances. Where nobody asked me to dance- so I danced with myself, well myself as a giant shadow on the gym wall. By senior prom- everyone knew me as the shadow dancer and I was the first on the dance floor dancing with myself to a standing ovation. I didn't fit in anywhere. All I knew was there must be a place where I belong. I knew there would be people who got me, I mean really understood me. I knew this because my mentors taught me.
Mentoring our children is one of the most important jobs we have as grown ups in this world. As North Americans we should be breathing a sigh of relief, that our kids can be safe, healthy and fed. We don't have to worry about fresh water or malaria. Children are the most important resource we have. So please help me teach those odd ducklings that it gets better. We are the change they need! You have the power to teach the world to love. So here's an apple for your first day teacher, it's going to be a long journey to prom, but I'll save you a dance.
For my first day back at it I decided to take it slow. I pumped my tires full of hot air, literally and figuratively. And this fat bottom girl got on her bike to ride. Huffing and puffing before my hula hoop class even started! And stinky with the shame of looking at myself standing awkwardly in a room with a solid wall of mirror. Trying to keep it fun and easy, I registered for a hoop burn class. How hard could it be to hula hoop? Not hard for the first 5 mins- then for the rest of the 55 mins- very hard. Add onto that the tricks and spins and doubles and turns and all that jazz I was out of my depth. But teacher says I am a natural- plus my classmates were nice! But I'd be surprised if hula hooping had drawn a bunch o'jerks. I mean it's a sparkly ring you dance inside- not exactly MMA. I am confident that my bum, abs and thighs will scold me tomorrow- but that's always a day away.
Getting back on my bike I headed to the rec centre for a swim. My non-athletic brain thought that if I doubled down on the fitness plan I was more likely to stick to it. I spent 15 mins in the fast lane being harrumphed at by men who wish they were Michael Phelps and 40 mins of arm and leg isolation in the medium lane, where I was the fastest and harumph-free. Until a fast- laner felt like slumming it in the medium lane and while passing people, he kicked them! Dude C'mon! Wouldn't you rather be challenged by the fast lane instead of shaming the mid tempo swimmers? But I guess he needed the ego boost or an excuse to kick people. My oh my, my neck is strained from only breathing one way during my strokes- ah hello, muscle memory, where were you on that? You were trained to go both ways. Either way I was pooped, my goggles were fogged up and I was sweating- in water- weird.
Then in the changeroom it hit me. An omg- I haven't used that muscle in a millennia arm cramp. Just at the moment when my shirt got twisted over my head, locking me in a kama-shirtra death grip. Standing there blind and topless, waiting for a helping hand when who should be the first responder? Why yes, it is a 64 year old naked polish lady. Asking sheepishly for a helping hand while trying to cover my totally exposed boobies, she drops her towel and brazenly untangles me. With a polite thank you, I dress myself and hop back onto my bike. My bottom feeling less fat and my body already sore. So much for taking it slow. I fully expect to wake up tomorrow with a sore everything, but I think I'll register for the noon hula class anyhow. If there's one thing I've learned is that I've told you that we won't stop. And now that I've got this giant rock rolling down the raider's tomb, it's time to get the idol, wait it's time to be the idol.
Picture this: A pretty pretty Princess wearing a pretty pink dress sits brushing her glimmering blonde hair and humming to herself. Two tiny bluebirds and one giant Cardinal hear her song and flutter down to perch on her shoulder and start singing harmony. Then two of the world's sweetest wittle bunny wabbits scoot under the fence, drawn to her by the birdie's #tweets. A baby deer pokes her head into the courtyard, curious as to what all the buzz was about. Did I forget to mention the Busy Bee family was there too? The Princess surrounded by her animal friends walks, well she glides really, to sit by her wishing well. Starting her song again she looks down into the wishing well. Princess: I'm wishing
Echo: I'm wishing
Princess: for the Prince I love
Echo: for the Prince I love
Princess: to find his dream job.
To be happy and proud of himself.
To be seen as the wicked talented dude he is.
To prove to himself he hasn't wasted anything.
To live and work at something he loves.
To gain the self esteem he sometimes lacks.
Cuz I am already proud of him.
Oh, and I wish for him to carry the load for a while, until I finish my children's book, sell it or indie-gogo a self publish and we can both be stable people and know that we've made the right choices for ourselves.
Disregarding what people have said about our rambling ways.
Realizing that no matter how silly our dreams seem they deserve to be realized.
And even though it's a hard row to sow, knowing that we've planted seeds, tended, watered and nurtured our imagination in the garden of our minds.
And even though we're a bit fruity, we're the sweetest kind.
I wish to continue on our tangled path of mixing business with pleasure.
Then we can live happily ever more, knowing that we were right to stick to our guns.
Please convince this geeky little boy wearing the cape, that he was right to dream big.
I also wish for a mini unicorn.
Echo: Wow, that was a really long chorus and it didn't even rhyme.
Your song writing skills are weaker than I thought, even worse than mine...
And I am a well.
Princess: Yeah, a wishing well!
The Princess and the birdies, the bunnies, the deer and the bees laughed and laughed and laughed until they stopped. Then the Well made all of the Princess' dreams come true. Her Prince came home happy and strong, with a mini-pony unicorn. And they lived happily evermore.
What a pretty, pretty picture that would be! Break an egg my Prince, my Hubby, my DreamMaker:) I am so very proud of you.
P.S. Check out Hubby's music video;) You'll love it!
"That's why you're a good friend." This is something that people say to me. I don't mean, someone once said it to me. I mean, this is something people say to me on an ongoing basis. They of course give me the qualifiers for the specific situation in question. But I am a good friend, that is the bottom line. And most people know they're lucky to have one. A good friend is hard to find. Did I mention I am a sucker for funny quotes. My current fav is "A friend will bail you out of jail. A good friend will be in the cell with you, shaking their head saying 'Wow, that was fun'". Those are the friends we all need. Not necessarily the ones getting us incarcerated, but I figure if you're still laughing, it couldn't be all that bad.
A good friend hears the craziest thing you've ever admitted to anyone and says 'I totally know that feeling.' You never have to ask them to keep a secret, they just do. A good friend listens even when you make no sense and they can't understand what you're saying cuz you're crying too hard, and then makes you laugh even though you never thought you ever would again. Nobody feels lonely when they're with a good friend . Even if neither of you has spoken for hours. A good friend will name your giant zit, just so it feels welcome. A good friend always puts you first, even when you don't deserve it. A good friend will never hurt you. And if that ever happens, it will never be by choice. A really good friend flirts with your Dad sometimes, because you love him and you both know it makes him feel good about himself. A good friend sees you in your jogging pants, with a greasy bun, swollen and crampy and still asks if you've lost weight. A good friend is the most valuable key to reminding you of who you are when you've been beaten for so long that you've forgotten.
All those things are so great, and make me thankful for my good friends. But a good friend will also save a perfectly planted inside joke until they have your full attention. They will ask if you can come out to play. They make you scream. With glee, fear and wonder. They know that song you can stop dancing to or singing at the top of your lungs. They remember that off handed comment you made 4 months ago and give you the greatest forgotten gift. They will help you even if they can't help themselves. They will go to a party where they know no one but you, fully intending to make more friends. I am proud to call myself a good friend. It's not always easy, but I couldn't imagine not excelling at it. That would be a waste. A waste of how amazing my friends are. Thank you to all my Good Friends. Your love in my life has helped me to be who I am. It is because of your examples that I am such a good friend...so we're gonna hang again soon right? Cuz it's been a while since I got into some trouble:)
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:)
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!
It is fall. October specifically; the fabulous month of my birth. The month when our bodies acclimatize to the chill. School is in full swing. The trees are exploding in their festive autumn colours. Mist hangs in the air late at night and early in the mornings. There is a sense of something slightly ominous. And who can blame you for feeling this way? With Ghosts and Goblins, Witches and Jack-o-Lanterns in every shop window. The crispy crackle of leaves under your quickening foot steps; chasing your shadow across a deserted parking lot. The feeling that there is someone just behind you or lurking around spooky tree trunks. October should be Heart-pounding awareness month.
Ever since I was a little girl I have loved being scared. I was the proud founder of Scary Chilling Regional Enthusiast Association of Movie-goers or SCREAM, a club of warped teenage girls eating Combos and being scared by my Papa B when he suddenly flicked on the lights. Five girls wrapped up in blankets, sitting in the dark, clutching each other's hands in anticipation of the next big scare. Watching what were the hot horrors at the time. Suspenseful dramatic thrillers with a tortured leading man grimacing about something that, by the end of the movie ends up being trivial even as a side-plot. Only to be reunited with his average girlfriend with the straight A's, then cruelly ripped from her arms in the last shot, basically cementing a sequel~ I mean Squeal!
Let's talk serious Horror for a minute- who would you be? Horror characters: Sensitive jock who pushes his girlfriend a little too hard to go to 3rd base, Slightly nerdy girl who only got invited to this party cuz your parents are friends, Total loose cannon outcast with nothing to lose and no one to answer to, or the hostess- who really just wanted everyone to have a nice time but now they're all dying? At what point in the story would your character give up? I think, I would end up being the one who outlasted everyone. Clumsily and narrowly escaping the tragic end befalling every one else. Be it crushed by a garage door, thrown from 2nd storey windows onto iron fence. If you die in a horror, you're going brutally. But when the chips really are down on the table, do you want to be the one who witnesses all your friends and probably family die? That's almost worse. Being alive when they're all dead. I mean, you're obviously going to be a suspect, you're the reason they were all there in the first place and their only connection. You can never run away or start a new life. That tragic story will follow you where ever you go. Whispering about that girl- sad about that night- oh, haven't you heard- she's the Grundy Island survivor. And that would be awful. Nobody would ever be your friend or love you ever again, because you're cursed. Which is one of the reasons I don't like big parties at secluded locations, where I know everyone. Happy OctoBOOOer:)
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.
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