Honest - No Foolin'!

Alas, my week of bliss is coming to an end. This cottage has become the ultimate retreat. The sun has been shining. The breeze, blowing. The water, inviting. The company, wonderful.

I decided to get working on a couple of craft projects this week. I've only gotten one completed, but it has been two years in the making. When we were tearing the old cottage down, we discovered some of the outside wall boards had writing on them. We cut those pieces out and saved them. I'm sure there were others that we didn't notice and were consequently incinerated in what I now refer to as The Great Cottage Destruction of 2010.

After talking with a man that has a home across the lake and has lived here his whole life, we learned that our cottage was part of a fishing camp in the 40's and 50's. It was the kids who attended the camp left their mark on the walls. Most just wrote their names, where they were from and the date. A couple left little notes. One boy, Jack Malloy, detailed all of the fish that he had caught, complete with weights and lengths, finishing the list off with the cutest comment-"Honest, no foolin'!"

I am now working on finding THE Jack Malloy. I googled him and found one man who is a realtor in Pennsylvania. I've emailed him, but have not received a response yet. I found another man who passed away in 2008. The search will continue! I will be sure to keep you all updated on my findings.

The messages were written in either pen or pencil. I knew that if I were to display the boards without somehow preserving them, the words would fade. So, I went to Michaels, got a wood burner (Thanks Kathleen for reminding me about the 40% off coupon), and traced over what was written. My brother cut a couple pieces of wood for me and I put the boards together, attaching them to the wood. I wanted to make it look as much like a chunk of wall as possible. It now holds a place of honour on the cottage wall.

Goals are Good!

It’s not like I’m dying.  I’m not going through a 1/3 life crisis. A bucket list is just something I’ve wanted to compile for some time, but I’m a procrastinator.  That should actually be on the list.  “Stop being a procrastinator.”  I’ll add that one later.

The truth is none of us really know how long we have here.  That’s not being morbid, just realistic.  So below is a list of things I want to accomplish, places I want to go, skills I want to develop, before my time is up.  I have managed to complete some things on this list.  Some are works in progress.  

1.   Visit every province and territory in Canada. I have the three territories, British Columbia,  Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Newfoundland left.

2.   Learn Italian (This one is TOUGH!!!  My dad should have taught me when I was a kid.   Thanks a lot, Dad.)

3.   Participate in La Tomatina in Spain

4.   Go to Florence and see David

5.   Go for a helicopter ride through the Rockies

6.   Write a book

7.   Learn to play the guitar (I’ve started this one, but need to pick it up again)

8.   Write a song

9.   Drive a race car

10. Ride a mechanical bull

11. See the Northern Lights from a Scandinavian country

12. Eat a pineapple moments after it’s been picked

13. Learn to make pottery

14. Finish reading any Jane Austin novel

15. Meet someone famous

16. Invent something

17. Make a video, post it on YouTube and have it get at least 100 000 hits

18. Drive a zamboni

19. Go to a play on Broadway

20. Take a dance class

21. Go zorbing! (I think I’m too old to do this one now.  Can’t spin in circles like I used to.)

22. Go whale watching in Atlantic Canada (I already tried this one once, but all we saw was a seal.)

23. Go to The Seychelles

24. Walk up the CN Tower

25. Adopt a child

26. Go back to school for…something…

27. Learn to drive a standard car

28. Bake a loaf of bread from scratch (with flour and yeast and measuring cups!)

29. Start a business

30. Conquer a fear (I’m working on this one!)

31. Pull a fire alarm

32. Solve a Rubik’s cube

33. Be an extra in a movie or TV show

34. Visit my relatives in Australia

35. Visit a medieval castle

36. Visit my nonna (Twice so far!)

37. Try authentic British fish and chips

38. Sleep in a tent (and now I NEVER have to do that again)

39. Ride in a gondola in Venice

40. See the Rockies

41. Paddle a canoe in Lake Louise

42. Step foot in an ocean

43. Shop at Harrod’s

44. Start a blog

45. Ride a segway

46. Eat haggis in Scotland

47. Spend Canada Day in Ottawa

48. See the Riace Bronzes in Reggio Calabria

49. Go to the Calgary Stampede

50. Sing karaoke in a seedy bar

What is on your list?

The Friendship Testing Bus Ride

It was the trip of a lifetime.  Two friends embarking on a journey through the Canadian Rockies.  Christine and Amelia had talked about this trip for months, maybe years. They would start off in Edmonton, visit some friends, ride the rickety roller coaster in the West Edmonton Mall, search every Western apparel store for a new “cowgirl” shirt. Next would be a four day tour of the Rockies, staying two days in Banff, one in Jasper and one in Lake Louise.  The final leg of their journey would take the girls to the Calgary Stampede. The greatest outdoor show on earth! There would be many laughs, few frustrations, extraordinary photo opportunities along the way. And also one memorable bus ride…

Before I being telling you of this fateful ride, you must first hear the story of the elk burger.  While staying in Banff, Christine and Amelia wanted to try something new, a food they’d never had the courage or chance to try before.  Being a picture perfect day and following the recommendation of the front desk clerk at the Mount Royal Hotel, they settled in at the roof top restaurant The Elk and Oarsman.  With a menu  that offered many new culinary temptations, the girls quickly chose wild game burgers.  Christine, the bison burger.  Amelia, the elk burger.  Their food arrived, looking delightful.  The first bite for Amelia, however, offered something unexpected.  Rare. Ground. Elk.  With a slight roll of her stomach, she tried another bite. And tentatively, another. About one quarter way through the burger, Amelia hailed the waitress. 

“Is the burger supposed to be cooked like this?” she asked.

“Of course!” the perky waitress replied. “That is how elk is prepared.”

With a “when in Banff” attitude, Amelia choked down some more. With one third left, she knew she could not continue.  They both laughed it off and thought nothing more of it.



Remnants of the elk burger



Fastforward two days, a gondola ride, a soak in the hot springs, a walk on a glacier, a missed tour of Lake Maligne, and countless other wonderful experiences, Christine and Amelia found themselves on the three hour bus ride from Jasper to Lake Louise. Unlike some of their commutes, this bus was nearly full.  The girls settled in for the drive along the Icefields parkway, known to be one of the most beautiful scenic drives in the world, and with good reason. A few minutes in, a curious passenger innocently asked of the bus driver, “Why have we seen no moose around?”

The bus driver confidently replied, “The elk in the area carry a parasite that is harmful to the moose, so they cannot coexist in this area.”

Amelia’s face blanched.

And Christine’s mirth became completely uncontrollable.

Now disgruntled, Amelia not so kindly asked Christine to stop laughing, but to no avail.  She could not have stopped the giggles bubbling inside of her if her life depended on it. Amelia saw no other choice but to abandon her insensitive friend. Choosing a seat on the other side of the bus, she gazed out the window and tried desperately to control the panic welling within. “Could I now carry that parasite?!?!?” she wondered.

The bus rolled on and eventually Christine began to try to turn Amelia’s mood around.  But Amelia could not be rallied. Christine’s attention soon turned to the pleasant looking young man sitting directly behind Amelia.  Having ridden his bike through the mountains from Lake Louise to Jasper, “Andrew” was enjoying a relaxing bus ride back. Soon, “Patrick”, a man in his 60’s with a happy face earring and a bandana joined in on the conversation.  Patrick told of his travels backpacking around the world, sleeping on the couches of strangers he had met along the way. Andrew was an engineer originally from Toronto, but working in Michigan. The four travelers (Amelia having decided sulking wasn’t as much fun as meeting new and interesting people) talked the bus ride away.  Amelia and Andrew talked of family, cycling, the best places in the world to visit, with Amelia not paying attention to what Christine and the flamboyant Patrick were discussing. As Lake Louise came into view, the girls bid the boys a fond farewell, wishing safe travels for the rest of their respective journeys.

With a short jaunt to the Chateau left, Amelia asked Christine what her and Patrick talked about. 

“Oh! You want to know what we talked about?” she replied somewhat angrily. “Firstly, he asked me how old I am, incredulous was he at the answer.  I offered to show him my driver’s license, as he refused to believe me.  Then he told me about his three sons back in the UK, all married with children, and reminisced of how he had always wanted a daughter.  I told him simply, he had three daughters-in-law who could now fill that role. But to Patrick, that was not good enough.  He remarked that it was not too late for him.  And with a creepy gleam, he looked me straight in the eye and said ‘My sperm are still good.  I had them tested.’”

Now it was Amelia’s turn for her mirth to become completely uncontrollable.

Please note: Andrew and Patrick were not their real names.  Or maybe they were.  We don’t know.  When we saw them walking away, we realized that we did not ask either man their name.  We chose names we thought suited them.

Light Bulb!!

The warehouse at work is about 99% male. They vary greatly in age and ethnicity. There are some old guys. Young guys. Latino guys that don't know English and just smile and nod at me when I go out there. I am going to tell you about one man that I've gotten to know over the past couple of years.

I really don't know how old JR is. He made some comment once about collecting old age pension, so I guess he's at least 65. He certainly doesn't seem that old. We talk cooking. iPhone apps. Family and travel. We've developed a friendship over the years and I always look forward to talking to him. I saw JR today, and with a big smile on his face, he strode towards me saying "I'm baaaaack!" That was then I had a moment of panic! He was gone? How long? What happened?

So it turns out, JR was off for two months. He had a heart attack. He told me how he started feeling poorly, had a lot of pressure in his chest and decided to go to the hospital. They immediately rushed him to Hamilton where he underwent emergency surgery. After recovering from the surgery, he was on bed-rest for a while, went through some rehab and took it easy for several weeks. He's on light duty now and is only working part-time. He said that it's been hard for him, because for two months, he's done basically nothing. His body's not used to working.

Two months. Two. Months. He was gone for two months, and I didn't notice. It's not like I never had opportunity to see him out there. I was in the warehouse making a nuisance of myself several times a day for the past month. Some of the guys started yelling out "HERE COMES TROUBLE!!" just at the sight of me. I was thinking about maybe getting the guys some flowers for all of the trouble that I have caused them, but somehow, I don't think they would appreciate it. Hahahaa! How could someone that I spoke to almost every day have been absent for two months and I didn't notice?

My goodness, today was a wakeup call for me. I've just been going through life, really only worrying about myself. How many people do I come in contact with on a daily basis? I have such an opportunity to make a difference in someone's life. Both positively and negatively. I'm sure it made JR feel great that I didn't notice that he had been gone. As much as I tried to hide it, I know he saw the blank look on my face.

This moment of self discovery has led me to a fork in the road. Path #1 leads to an elaborately prepared pity party. Path #2 leads to a sense of determination to change. I'm taking path #2. I know I'm not a jerk at heart. I know that there have been times when I have been able to help people. But now I've realized that I can get better at it. I can clean out the corners in my brain that are currently occupied with music lyrics and movie quotes, and instead fill those areas with care and concern for those around me. Love my neighbour as myself.

Crafty Project #2

I am currently at one of my absolute most favourite places on earth. And I've been to some pretty great places. A couple years ago, when my parents bought this place, it was just about the most disgusting, barely inhabitable place I had ever seen. Please feel free to reacquaint yourself with the "Cottage: The Before" album on my facebook page. Yes, the shower was in the shed. After two years and a lot of hard work, the cottage has become an oasis. I love waking up with the sun streaming into my window. Walking out onto the deck and watching the loons learn to fly. Waving to random boaters as they float by. Attempting to break the world record of the most mosquitos killed in one day. I love it all!!

One day last fall, I took the dog for a walk. Now I specifically remember this walk because I put my shoes on without any socks, thinking that I was just going to let the dog quickly do his business. He was in one of his "let's sniff the entire world to ensure that my deposit is going to be made in the absolute most perfect spot" moods, so we ended up on an extended walk. This, of course, resulted in blisters on my ankles.

Anyway...during this walk, I became inspired by the fallen trees with their bark peeling off that I passed on the side of the road. I managed to secure several samples of birch bark, as well as a couple others that I could not name if my life depended on it. Since, as we all know, I am a procrastinator, they sat in the shed all winter, untouched. Or I could say, they were strategically placed in the shed so that they could properly dry out before serving the purpose that I intended. About a month ago, I finally decided to get started on this project.

I briefly soaked the bark in hot water to soften it up. I then laid it flat and put whatever heavy stuff I could find in the garage on top, letting them dry back out. I took pieces of 2x10 boards (which is not really 2" by 10" by they way. What's up with that?), and had my dad cut them into squares. I sanded the ends using a palm sander. That was an experience. Once they were all nice and smooth, I spray painted them dark grey. I made two holes in the back for hanging. At first, I tried chiseling the holes out, which took a ridiculous amount of time. Sometimes, I'm not that bright. At the kind suggestion of my family, I used a drill for the last few holes.

Once that was done, I cut the bark in squares to cover the face of the board. In a couple cases, I used extra bits to cover some holes so that the paint wouldn't actually show through. Using PL premium, I secured the bark onto the boards, and then again, used whatever heavy stuff I could find to clamp it down until it dried. With extreme precision and accuracy of measurement (okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration), I marked out on the wall where the screws needed to go. The boards are now hung on the kitchen wall and look pretty neat, if I do say so myself! And I have the blisters to thank for it!

Procrastination is the Thief of Time

When I was in grade 6, I had a teacher named Mrs. Lane, affectionately remembered as the typing Nazi. I really do have her to thank for the incredible typing skill that I now possess. There was this program she used called Fast Type. She would tape a piece of paper to the top of the keyboard so that it would cover your hands. The "drills" had varying levels of difficulty, of course starting with simply typing the letters that became highlighted on the screen, progressing to phrases and sentences. One of those phrases that has always stuck with me is "Procrastination is the thief of time." Now at the time, my grade 6 brain really didn't know what that meant. No, it wasn't until high school that that phrase came to life for me.

I was the world's greatest procrastinator. Not something I'm particularly proud of. When projects came due in high school, and of course I hadn't done them yet, I would ask the teacher that my mark was, how much the project was worth and decide if I could spare the percentage or not. Pathetic. I know. My brain always mixed up the cliche and it just became "put off today, what you can do tomorrow."

Unfortunately, this flaw has stayed with me into adulthood. I will get these grand ideas for projects, or see something around the house that needs attention, and instead, I'll read a book. (I've believe we have covered my book-addiction in a previous blog, so we won't go there again. The Kindle app for iPad certainly not helping. Just saying.) I have not decided that this is a problem I must try and overcome. So, my starting point will be to complete the design projects for the cottage that I have brilliantly crafted in my brain. In this blog entry, I will show the one that I completed on Easter weekend.

Almost a year ago, I went to the antique shop in Wainfleet, an experience in itself. There I found seven old door knobs, some glass, some brass, and an old piece of baseboard with chipping light green paint.

My dad took pieces of wood just slightly larger than the hole in the knob and pounded it in to fill the hole. I marked the back of the board so the knobs would be easily spaced. With me holding the knob on the front of the board, my dad drilled a screw from the back of the board into the wooden centre of the knob. We then screwed it into the wall behind the door and a coat rack was born!

Welcome back, Robin!

I took my dog for a walk last night after work. He LOVES going for walks.  I was getting ready to go and he was literally bouncing up and down with excitement with a big smile on his face. To be honest, I was practically bouncing up and down myself.  It’s been nice to breathe some fresh air after being locked up inside at a  desk all day.   So we set out on our journey down the road, birds chirping, breeze blowing.  I got to my neighbour’s driveway and looked behind me, only to see my other neighbour’s dog sitting at the end of my driveway.  Like a child that was left out of the dodgeball game at recess.  He looked so heartbreakingly pathetic.  Sitting there with his cone (seriously, that dog has had a cone off and on for like six months…I have no idea why), tail wagging, so eager.  I kept walking.  Now before you accuse me of being a heartless dog-abandoner, you need to know something about Carter.  That dog is fearless. Or perhaps a little dimwitted. I’ll be strolling along with Baxter – on a leash – walking on the side of the road, and Carter will follow along right down the middle.  Cars will have to almost stop before he moves.  I don’t want to be held responsible if something happened to him.  Or worse, I don’t want those drivers thinking that crazy dog is mine!

What weather we have been having!  I love seeing everyone on my street out and about.  Racking up fallen branches. Working on old cars. Sitting in lawn chairs with shorts on. The weather always seems to be a hot topic of conversation.  I think Canadians must talk about the weather more than anyone else in the world.  Maybe, it’s because it’s so unpredictable.  One second, it’s a blizzard, the next, it’s a heat wave!  I can’t really decide if that’s exciting or frustrating. How does one dress for the day when the morning differs so greatly from the afternoon?  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not complaining about this Spring-like loveliness.  I’m enjoying every minute of it.  My only concern, is the summer.  If it is like 15 degrees higher than normal now, will it be 15 degrees higher in the summer?  If so, I’m going to buy stocks in Freon.  Or whatever environmentally friendly equivalent they are using these days.  And maybe oxygen masks.  Humidity sucks!

Nothing to Say

I haven't written a blog post in a while. Shockingly enough, I've had nothing to say. That doesn't happen very often.  Normally, I am not at a loss for words. I'm pretty good at being able to speak anytime, to anyone, about anything.  It's a skill I've developed. I read random articles online a lot so that I have something interesting to talk about. Since I can't think of any articles that I've read lately that are really worth talking about, (except for the one I read today about a hospital in Sweden that has put are requirement for nurses they hire that they must be "hot", TV show hot, I think it said, oh and a good sense of humour), this blog will be about a little bit of everything. 

I have recently become an auntie.  This is just about the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. It still blows my mind! As some of you may know, my sister has been married for nine years, and once said that she and Dave would never have kids.  We were all so shocked that they changed their minds.  And unbelievably excited!!!  Makayla Lauren is so sweet.  She's so tiny and delicate.  It just amazes me that a life can grow inside a woman. What a miracle! I can't wait to watch her grow up.  Find out her personality.  Do all the fun stuff that an auntie gets to do. Hehe!  Not just grandma and grandpa get to "sugar 'em up and send 'em home!"

In 11 days, I will be turning 31.  Now, I've heard that 31 is worse than 30, from those who've blazed that trail before me.  I've never been scared or upset about growing older.  My 30th birthday was a day that I highly anticipated. I was excited about starting a new decade. There were friends I had growing up that didn't make that milestone, so 30 was never an age that I dreaded.  We shall have to see if 31 is as great as 30 was. 

It's amazing how you change as you get older.  Not just what you know or how you think.  The physical changes are...interesting.  I never used to get car sick.  Ever.  Two years ago, I discovered I can no longer sit in the backseat during long car rides.  And by long, I mean anything over 30 minutes.  I even gotten nauseous while driving.  That is just ridiculous.  

I made it through another holiday in the floral industry.  Every time another holiday comes around, I think I'm not going to make it. Stress levels increase exponentially.  The only benefit is that the days and weeks fly by.   I cut my finger on a rose thorn and was hoping to get out of the madness by contracting some sort of slight infection, but that didn't happen.  I got no sympathy from anyone either.  I'll have to work on a more serious injury for Easter.  Like maybe a paper cut!

And I guess that's all I have to say for tonight. 

My Favourite Pastime

I have a haircut tonight.  Since I didn't feel like wasting the gas  to go home after work and come back into town, I am killing time at Starbucks.  I know. I know.  Me in Chapters is like an alcoholic going to a bar.  You'll be happy to know that my self control is still in tact.  I didn't even cross that little track that the huge baby gate travels on when Chapters closes and Starbucks is still opened.   My back is to  the books and I am determined not to leave here purchasing anything more than my tall gingerbread latte and turkey bacon breakfast sandwich.  

I really came here to kill time people watching.  I don't find many things quite as fascinating as watching people.  There are several here that look much like I do.  Sitting with some sort of electronic device in front of them, periodically  looking up to people watch as well, I imagine.  I am listening to three conversations in different languages, none of which I recognize.  There are two guys to my left.  One is talking talking talking, and the other is just nodding his head, not able to get a word in.  Or maybe he doesn't mind just listening. There's a woman who took the comfy seat to read a book.  There's a woman in front of me who should probably be Italian, the way she's talking with her hands, but she is Asian.  Oh! The nodder got in a sentence! Now he's shaking his head.

There aren't many vacant seats left.  I'm sitting at the big wheelchair accessible table.  I wonder if anyone would have the courage to ask to  join me? I mean, I have this huge table all to myself.  Plenty of room for someone else looking to people watch.  I wonder if I would have the nerve to ask someone to share their table.  I think I would.  I'm really not shy.  People are leery of each other, though.  Oh, he's back to nodding again.  There was a time when everyone was friendly with each other.  It's sorta sad that our society has become one that keeps to themselves, too cautious to interact with one another.  

I think that people crave that, though.  They desire to share what they have inside with someone else.  There are so many lonely people out there.  People are desperate to know that someone cares.  Someone would notice if they were gone.  Someone would benefit from them being in their life.  We were created to connect with each other.  And yet so much evil has caused us to close ourselves off.  Shut down the part inside that is aching to relate to someone.  Anyone. 

I don't want to be that person with the "Closed for Business" signal emanating from me.  I want to be the one people can go to when they just want to talk.  Like that nodder.  Be quiet and listen.  That is what I am challenging myself to do.  Open up.  Be vulnerable.   Show a stranger I care.   How different would our society be if we all did that?

I got a new bluetooth keyboard for my iPad.  It is pretty awesome, I must say.  At first, I thought I wanted a case with the keyboard attached.  Since I couldn't find anything that I liked without buying online, I started looking at detached ones.  I bought a Logitech one at Staples, selected mostly because the keys are a comfortable distance apart and because it fits in my purse.  

I am not the type of person that researches things before I buy them. Except maybe books.  I do read book reviews and base my purchase on that.  It's kind of dumb that I will research a book, but blindly buy the big stuff.   I bought the Escape because I wanted a compact SUV that didn't look like a bubble. It could be the worst one on the market and I wouldn't know because I really didn't look into it.  Foolish on my part, really.  It's a lot of money. Though with the amount of them that I see on the road, they can't be that bad. I know some people that won't buy a toaster without checking out every single one online to make sure that the $20 they are spending on it is going to be a good investment. 

Can too much information be a bad thing? Can you really trust all of the reviews that you read online? I can say from experience, there have been books that I've read with great reviews, and I hated them.  Can the same be true for keyboards or cars? You can basically find any opinion online to support every angle. "This product is the greatest thing I've every purchased!" "I would not use this product if you paid me!" "For the price, this product is worth it, not worth it..." And so on. Who do you believe? Out of all of the opinions, which do you choose?  We already know that I can't handle too many choices. I mean, sometimes, I go to a restaurant and let the waiter pick for me because I can't decide what I want to eat.  Have you ever been to The Cheesecake Factory?  Their menu is like a novel!  I can't handle that many choices.  Seriously, it's a book with  coil binding and everything!  And they have like 15 different cheesecake flavours. Who can choose between 15 different flavours of cheesecake?

I supposed it all comes down to trust and taking a risk.  You either trust what other people say, and take the risk based on their opinions.  Or trust what you think, and take the risk based on your own feelings.  Why should I trust what a stranger thinks? But then why should I trust what I think when I have absolutely no idea?  I do believe there has to be a happy medium.  And I think that that medium needs to involve more responsibility on my part. Next time I buy something, I will read up online about it first. I promise.

Just Me and My Sister

Oh the happy sisters.  Every time I see this picture, I laugh.  It was like we were being tortured or something. Could there be a picture of two more miserable little girls? I’ll have to ask my mom why we were so snarly looking.

The picture got me thinking, though, of all the great times I had with my sister growing up.  We used to go to my aunts and uncles’ house to play with our cousins.  Being all pretty close in age, we’d spend hours there.  Playing in the backyard. Or my favourite place was their basement.  It was like a whole different world down there!  I remember a back corner had boxes and boxes of dress-up clothes.  We would put the costumes on and pretend to be all sorts of things. My older cousins’ room was down there too.  I remember snooping in their room one time and dropping a bowling ball on my foot.  Got in trouble for that one.

Sophia had a desk in her room.  We would crawl under it and play “store”.  We’d make our own money.   Find “merchandise” and price it. Then, we’d take turns being the cashier. I think we would play that in our basement too, where there was an old bar.  I remember we’d also play “rock star”, making up our own dance moves and singing along to songs I’m sure I no longer remember.  

It’s amazing how time flies.  When you’re a kid, you think you’ll be a kid forever and never get to grow up.  And when you grow up, you wish you could be a kid again. I wish I could remember everything about my childhood. Maybe I just remember the important stuff.  Like when my dad had gone to Italy over Christmas one year but had bought us Cabbage Patch dolls before he left for us to open while he was gone. Or maybe it was just mom that had bought them for us and said they were from dad…at any rate, it’s still a good memory. I wish I still had mine.

And now my sister is going to have a kid. The whole cycle of life is beginning again. Hopefully, she has another one too, so her kids can have the kind of memories that I have of growing up with my siblings.

But what about...

I have come to accept the fact that I can’t make decisions. An inner battle happens every time I’m at a crossroad.  Should I go left? Or right? Should I stay home? Or go out? Should I wear the brown shoes? Or the black ones? What should I have for lunch?

If the indecision issue only affected menial decisions (did I used the correct affect?), I wouldn’t even care.  My life will not be drastically altered if I eat a tuna sandwich instead of peanut butter and jam. No, it’s when it gets to the big stuff that I feel completely crippled.  What should I be doing with my life? What is my purpose here? Have I done enough with the resources I’ve been given? How can I help someone else?

I don’t think I’ve always been this wishy-washy.  I remember being confident as a child. It must have been somewhere in high school that I began doubting.  I suppose as a child, you don’t fully understand the consequences of poor choices.  Like when I snooped in my Christmas presents and my parents found out, then made me open all my gifts before Christmas so I didn’t have any to open on Christmas day. Consequence for a poor choice that was not foreseen.

The risks are more evident as an adult.  I went skiing last year.  The only other time I went skiing was when I was 21, I think.  It was fun! There was one steep moment of terror I can recall, but other than that, I loved it.  Last year, I was standing at the top of the hill, thinking-If I actually attempt this, I am going to die.  Kids that were barely up to my knees went down with no fear!  Of course, they are much closer to the ground than I am, so the damage resulting in a fall would be much more minor.  I went down, though, a couple of times.  Since I faced my fear then, I don’t feel compelled to try facing it again. It’s amazing how, the older you get, the more your mind works against you. If I do this, the potential risks are…x, y, z.  I could fall and break my leg.  I could hit a tree.  I could need to be rescued by a St. Bernard…

Being cautious is good, I think.  But for me, I need more abandon. I’m not saying I need to go and do something crazy. I just feel like it’s time to jump in with both feet.  Pick something and stick with it.  Find a career and go for it. But what do I pick!?!?!  Oh I hate this feeling of indecision. How come some people don’t struggle with this but I do?  I can’t even answer the question-If I could do anything in the world, I would…  I have no idea what I would do!  If money wasn’t an option, I would go to school for… I have no stinking clue!  I would be most happy doing… Like I know! Why can’t I answer these questions? What is holding me back? Will I ever get to the point where I have confidence in the decisions that I make?

I sure hope so.

And the award goes to...

Exciting news!!! My dog, Baxter, has won Whiney  Dog of the Year!!! I'm sorry all you parents out there. Your kids have nothing on Baxter. He has taken whining to a completely different level.  He can whine quietly. He can whine loudly. Growl whine. Whisper whine. High pitched whine. Rumble whine. Chewbacca whine. It's like he's one of those dogs on the ASPCA commercials. Looking all pathetic like he is abused and neglected. As I was listening to him this morning carry on and on and on while I was too lazy to let him out for a third time in two hours, I thought-What can this dog possibly have to whine about? He is treated like a king! We cook for him, clean up after him, take him for walks, play with him. He's got his own spot on the couch.  It's worse than having a baby really.  

And then I started thinking about all the whining I do. I'm 30 years old. I still living at home. I've got debt. I don't know what to do with my life. Single. I fell into such a depression this Christmas.  I felt like a fraud going through the motions of decorating, playing Christmas music, planning get togethers. And all the while I just wanted to say-screw it. Screw it all. Why am I pretending to be happy when I'm not? Why can't I just be honest with everyone? 

Then I remembered Judy Lypka. Judy is a friend of a girl that I work with who I met in the fall. The first thing that I noticed about her was her infectious smile and quick wit. She talked about her daughter, who is engaged. Mentioned a song that she had written. And the cancer that she was fighting. Already, the disease had taken its toll on her body. Her colour, pale. Her stomach, distended. And she joked that, at 56, she was pregnant with triplets.  Thank God for the sunglasses that hid the tears pooling in my eyes. How could this woman who is dying have such a positive attitude? The doctors didn't give her more than three months. Yet here she was, laughing. Joking. Living.  It turns out the doctors were right though. She passed away on New Years Day.  I only met her that one time and yet I can't stop thinking about her. 

How could I complain about anything? 

Getting Started

Now how does one begin writing a blog…?

It’s like I woke up this morning and decided to join the circus.  I have no idea how to go about it…what to expect…what direction to take.  Should I be a lion tamer? Can I learn to shove swords down my throat? I’m not in good enough shape to be a trapeze artist.  Perhaps, I’ll just fumble along until I figure out where I fit.

I got an iPad for Christmas.  In trying to think of ways that this new toy will be useful, I’ve discovered ebooks. Now,  I am a HUGE reader.  I should join BBA – Book Buyers Anonymous.  My bedroom is littered with books.  That being said, I’ve always been old fashioned about reading though.  When the first ereader came out, what was it?  the Kindle?, I was staunchly against it! “I don’t care about saving trees!  I want to flip pages!” I never thought I would cross over to the dark side.  At first, it was just curiosity.  What’s this? iBooks? Hmmm… Do they have the books that I like to read?  Yes. Are they cheaper than their paper counterparts? Sometimes.  Will the glare from the screen give me a headache whilst I’m staring at it for hours on end?  Probably.  So I just bought one book.  Just to try it out.  I now have four different apps and 15 books.  It was actually the ebooks that started me to thinkin’ about writing a blog.  One reviewer on Amazon said she got a free copy of the book in exchange for her honest review.  How awesome is that!  All you needed was a blog.  So this really may be only an ulterior motive to get free books.

Or maybe this will become a medium for me to express my feelings. Deal with issues.  Pass time. I can’t imagine too many people will care to read what I have to say.  Not that I think lowly of myself, but I’ve never read someone’s blog. I suppose people write a blog intending for it to be read, but I’m sure it’s more than that. Like, people who write in a journal, with actual paper and pens, don’t really intend for that to be read.  Do they?

I’ve never been much of a journaller.  At least not in the recent past. Back in high school, I went through a journaling phase.  I actually wrote in it quite often.  It fizzled out, though, after I graduated.  The journal collected dust for a few years before I went back to it.  Wow.  Bad idea.  I think I ripped out half of the pages, horrified that someone would one day read it.  Was I really that ridiculous in high school?  Was that really how I thought? Was that really what I wanted to do with my life?  It was embarrassing.  What is it about high school? Our brains must take a huge detour in their development.  They probably stop off in Brain Vegas and go gambling.  I’m sure they take a wrong turn in Albuquerque.  At any rate, it was actually hard to read. Uncomfortable. Like looking at Awkward Family Photos. What are people thinking?  At what point did you think it was a good idea to pose with your children, naked, with fig leaves strategically placed, for a Christmas card? Thank God no such photos exist with my family featured in them. I think that’s enough for today.

Now how does one end writing a blog…?