Let me be honest with you: the beginning of 2016 was SHIT... for various reasons that I shall not get into here. Suffice it to say that I was not in a positive mind-frame nor was I out of the boxes that I had created for myself in the diverse aspects of my life (see previous post for description of said boxes).
However, the MIDDLE of this year began to change... as did I; I did not begin this transformation on my own. As much as I would like to thank my awesome self, I was not alone in this; thus, I need to show my gratitude to a whole SHIT-load of people who have helped me in a minor and/or major way.
I must, and will always, begin with my very own little prince charming... my sunshine, my baby, my Bubba. With his gentle, empathetic and, at times, stubborn, ways, he has been accompanying me on this journey and has helped me enormously throughout. The one sentence that he has repeated to me near the end of this year is, "Mommy, you're the best," to which I always reply, "Nope, you and Patrick are." He has also greeted me one day at daycare with an incredible, "Mommy, I'm so lucky to have you in my life," to which I obviously responded, "No sweetheart, I'M the lucky one." Even on the worst of days, because let's face it, as parents we OFTEN have those, he has been my guiding light and one of the many reasons for my being on this planet. I love him to the moon and back, and past the stars and all the way to the far reaches of the galaxy, as he will perhaps happily tell you if you do happen to ask him how much his mommy loves him.
I must also thank my man... THE man of my life... yep, I know, you have perhaps heard THIS before, being the hopeless romantic that I am... but, and again, sorry if I AM repeating myself, THIS TIME, it's different. I. AM. DIFFERENT. Also, this love feels different... He is going to be so embarrassed by my writing this, so I will simply add that I am SO thankful for his acceptance of me OUTSIDE of my boxes. I could and would go on, but I am not willing to share...
I am thankful for ALL of him, his family included. His children have accepted me into their lives without any questions and his grandparents have been there for me in our time of need. I spent a wonderful Christmas in their company and I cannot even wonder why my man is so wonderful and why his children are amazing because it all stems from the two beautiful people I spent time with very recently. Basta.
To 'mamaman'... I thank her for letting me go - "son abeille boutine de ses propres ailes". We have had a rocky existence as mother and daughter, she and I, to say the least, but she has ALWAYS been there for me AND my son. She is now finally watching from the shoreline as I am attempting to navigate my own ship, however roughly the seas may swell and sway underneath me. I am NOT an easy person to deal with, but she does, to the best of her own limited capacities as a fellow human being with her own perfect imperfections. Thank you mom, and watch me fly this year, "Ma chere maman, je voles, je t'aimes mais je voles...."
My Tintin... AND Gab... I thank them for accepting my plea for help when I thought I might need an extra set of people to watch my son... We have not always been close, and we have had our differences, but I do believe that we are on the right path to having a healthier relationship.
My sister from another mother and father... My TALLER doppelganger... AND smarter AND prettier... you get the idea. Despite the distance between us, she has chosen ME, the crazy shorty living in Montreal, to be the godmother of her baby girl... and I could not have been happier than on that day when she first told me... and I cried SO much the day that our little Miss was born... full out sitting on the floor, bawling in the hallway, at my boyfriend's house, ask her husband and my boyfriend. I am therefore so very grateful that her and her husband have chosen me to be a guiding light for their baby girl; I shall be like a lighthouse... a far, FAR away one... to which she will always be able to sail towards for religious, spiritual, personal and/or emotional advice. I will act mostly as a soundboard though, allowing her words to echo back to her and merely allowing my voice to be heard when/if she needs it. I love you Lori, Dane, Mavis and Clark - thank you for allowing me to be a member of your beautiful little family. I love you my Mr. Mistress and I am so very glad that you are my best friend's other half - our lives would not be the same without you honey. Thank you for all of our 'illicit' conversations - you read me right my girl, I AM HAVING A TELEPHONE AFFAIR WITH YOUR HUSBAND... *wink*wink*
The next person on my list is my roommate, who unknowingly signed up for WAY more than he had originally thought when he became my roommate; he has had to deal with a lot of my shit at the end of this tumultuous year, including my singing at all hours of the day and night AND my non-stop talking way too loudly to my man on the phone, and a WHOLE bunch of other stuff that I will not mention here in case ya'll begin to think that I am NOT perfect. My 'husband', thank you for being here for me when I needed you to be, and thank you for accepting me at my best and at my worst.
My friend AND boss, Juju... you have been such an awesome presence in my life this year and you have listened to me whenever my own anxiety was getting the worst of me. You have also been an understanding, yet firm, boss with me and I feel as though you have been able to reach that delicate balance of being my friend AND superior at the same time. Know that I am ALWAYS here for you and your little family and that you are someone I look up to in your ability to manage it all with such grace and patience.
A Denis la menace, merci de ta sagesse incroyable et de ton ecoute de tout ce que j'ai vecu dans ces derniers mois... ton sourrire a ete une balme a ma douleur et tes mots d'encouragements ont resonne en dedans de moi et continuent de me faire grandir encore plus dans le cheminement que je fais. Tu es une vieille ame si belle et comprehensive et je suis tres reconnaissante de tous les precieux moments que tu m'accordes entre les murs de verres ou tu m'accuille si chaleureusement. Merci mon beau Denis.
Mathieu, notre amitie a commence il y'a SI longtemps meme si nous nous sommes pas parles depuis nos bons vieux jours au secondaire. Tout a recommence la journee ou tu m'as reconnu pendant que j'allais travailler, et je suis SI contente que tu m'as vu et parle. Tu es un bel homme 'rose', a l'image de Denis quand tu aurais eu plus d'experience dans cette belle vie. Ton sourrire est un petit rayon de soleil que me rechauffe le coeur a chaque fois que j'ai la chance de te croiser. Alors, merci pour ton sourrire et pour ton ecoute de toutes mes conneries et niaiseries.
A ma belle Maggy qui a repondu a mon appel d'au secours lorsque j'ai eu besoin d'aide avec mon pti amour - tu as mis deux anges nommes Malaika et William sur notre chemin a moi et Zach. Tu as su tout de suite qu'on s'entendrais bien moi et Malaika, et je te remerci infinement de m'avoir suggere cette merveilleuse et douce personne pour prendre soins de mon garcon. Et toi et moi ma belle, l'annee 2017 nous announce une danse dans le Metro ensemble a faire danser, bouger et chanter tout le monde!!
Malaika, tu es un ange et William aussi - merci d'avoir si bien prit soins de mon petit soleil et de m'avoir ecouter et encourager. Rappelles-toi de prendre soins de TOI et que si jamais tu as besoin de moi, et bien ca va me faire un GRAND plaisir de garder et de m'occuper de ton bebe d'amour.
To the young man on the Metro who encouraged me to write my book... I am sorry that I have forgotten your name, but I shall always remember your face and your words of encouragement - my first book is for children and it is coming; it will therefore be dedicated to my son, my nephew, my goddaughter and the children that all adults have within themselves. My other book, however, which will be my own story, shall be dedicated to YOU since you have helped unblock my creative process just by speaking with me on that day we sat next to each other on the Metro. I hope that you are still following YOUR dreams and please, never let them go.
To Thelma... I am at a loss for words in thanking you for helping me to unblock and begin to liberate all of the anger and sadness I have been locking up within myself for so long. You sensed it and cried for me when I couldn't cry myself, and for the kindness you showed me, I shall always be grateful. You are an incredible woman and I am happy to have come and said hi to you on one of my first days at my new job. HE's coming soon Thelma, and I am screaming and jumping with joy - MY Christmas AND New Year shall occur on the day when I am finally held in his arms. Thank you.
To Thelma's right hand woman, Lori-May... Thank you for listening to me babble on and on in circles and for sharing with me your metaphor of boxes. You have helped me immensely and I am forever in your debt for that day when you offered me a cup of coffee and your two ears, heart and arms to share in my anger and sadness.
To everyone else who is not mentioned here, I do not love you any less... Thank you for having been a part of this heartbreakingly incredible year... Every person I have smiled at and spoken to has been a part of my journey, however briefly, and I would not be the person I am today had I not encountered you. So thank you.
Here's to 2016: Thank you for teaching me more about love than any other year; for allowing me to grow more and more into the strong, independent, intuitive, empathetic and charismatic woman that I am; for giving me many lessons in the importance of patience, which I lacked at the beginning of the year; for showing me how to "fermer ma grande geuele" when I need to; for helping me realize that I am far richer than I could have ever imagined.
Here's to 2017: WATCH. OUT. I. AM. COMING.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Thursday, December 15, 2016
I'M BACK !!!!!
Ladies and/or gents.... I am BACK !!!!
After too long of a creative hiatus, I have finally returned, with a writer's vengeance, to the blogging community... My fellow readers, I have lived and loved for the past, what, three YEARS (??) ... and I can now happily and finally guarantee you that I have BEGUN to find myself... NOT in a spiritual, religious, granola or hippy kinda way, not that there is ANYthing wrong with that, but in a more young woman/mother/human being loving and accepting herself kinda way.
You see, my dear readers, I had been LOOKING for love in all of the wrong places, as cliched as that may sound, and of course, I had not been able to find it... because this love was WITHIN me all along. This newfound love for myself has surfaced with the help from the man of my dreams and, thankfully, my reality.
Let me describe to you the last approximate twenty years of my life: I was always placing myself in a box... There was a box for work, and a box for my friends, and a box for the men in my life, and then eventually there was even a box for my son... you get the general idea, I was figuratively a Box Troll, for those of you who have seen the movie. Even though I had created these said boxes for myself, I was not happy with my life, nor the choices and decisions I was making. I wanted someone to love me even while I was unable to love myself.
And then one day, not so long ago, a man DID begin to love me... the REAL me... the charismatic, unapologetic, perhaps hyperactive, loud-mouthed, happy go lucky, empathetic, intelligent, yada yada yada... ME. I didn't fabricate a new box the day I met him, and he has never once asked me to alter what is essentially ME. Because of his blooming love for ME, I began to destroy all of the suffocating and imprisoning cubes that I had created in order to live a fulfilling life according to my own warped ideals and/or those belonging to others.
I am no longer living within the confines of multiple squares. Welcome to the Jungle Baby!! Please stay tuned for eventual blogs about the beautiful every day moments I share with strangers, my friends, my family members, trees, animals, ladybugs... etc. Bringing this blog back to its original concept of wanting to share MY little (meaning that I am SHORT, get it?) perspective on the mundane yet gorgeous experiences that I have daily.
Monday, January 27, 2014
A Muddy Beginning...
I'm standing, rather awkwardly, atop my not-so high heels, feeling them pinch into the sides of my small but unfortunately wide feet, nevertheless singing along to the barely audible music coming from the store across the hallway from the boutique where I am working, moving my feet and feeling rather good that I am here; my navy and white striped dress clings to the black pantyhose I am wearing, and I have to shimmy it down every once in a while, rather gracelessly I'm afraid. Smiling at every passerby, hoping that someone will come in and buy SOMEthing, ANYthing, I notice a couple looking into the shop, and so I say 'Bonjour' with my biggest smile. They both smile back from within the confines of their bundled forms and ask me whether or not we have any white dresses. Their question takes me a little aback seeing as it is about minus 40 degrees outside with the windchill and all I would want to shop for today would be hats, gloves and scarves. Nevertheless, they accompany me into the midst of the European clothing maelstrom that is Mode Tout Aller. I show them a beige dress, and she seems ok with it, peering at it with her light blue eyes and so I ask my heavy-set boss Lucie whether or not it could be dyed white. Seeing her confusion, the man begins to explain why they are looking for a white dress in the first place, and so here is their lovely story they chose to reveal to us on that chilly and winterlorn Thursday morning.
''Et bien, tu vois, nous cherchons une seconde robe de mariage pour la deuxieme partie de notre mariage. La premiere robe a déjà été choisit et la je vais vous compter notre concept.''
''Oui, la premiere robe c'est la robe de ma mere qu'elle est en train de modifier pour moi,'' The strawberry blonde and purple-clad glasses woman interjects, her pale blue eyes lighting up from within and a huge grin plastering her pale face.
''Donc, pour la premiere partie de la ceremonie, nous allons faire un trajet dans la bouette sur des quatre par quatre - elle va etre dans sa robe de marier, moi dans mon habit, avec des bottes de pluie...''
I am assuming at this point that my smiling face and bewildered eyes speak for themselves since the Young-looking woman adds, ''Ma mere est au courant que sa robe de marier va etre completement trasher, et c'est ca un peu l'idee car ce mariage n'a pas durer...''
The long, two-toned coloured haired man turns to Lucie and begins to explain, ''Tu vois, la vie c'est comme un parcours dans la bouette, et le mariage aussi... parfois, c'est elle qui va me guider dans la bouette de la vie, par dessous les cotes et les roches, et d'autres fois ca va etre moi qui va l'aider...''
He turns towards me and continues, his eyes shining with the love he feels for his beaming fiance, ''Y'a différents mariages de nos jours: civil que nous ne voulions pas car nous sommes pas vraiment conformistes, religieux qui ne rentre pas dans nos idees non plus, et le mariage symbolique que nous avons choisit.''
My eyes unwillingly well with tears as I think of my own past love stories and how I had pictured my life as being different than what it is at this moment in time... in a lot of ways, my life is BETTER than what it could have been. Had I married the man who contributed at least physically to making my beautiful son, our life, that of me and my son, would not have been what it is now, which is, despite mommy's human failures and mistakes, a lot less miserable than what it would have been WITH Zach's sperm-donor of a father.
Finally, Lucie pulls down a very simple yet oh-so-perfect white dress that fits the couple's simple yet romantic style... the soon-to-be bride prances into the dressing room and exits looking as gorgeous as a Grecian goddess of times past. The top part of the dress hugs her with all of its little ripples and pleats and the thick and lacy straps add a respectable hint of modesty; the flowing bottom half of the dress swooshes around the beloved's hips and flows to the ground, ending with some old-fashioned lace that will of course need to be hemmed, given the young lady's small stature.
Lucie decides to lower the price of the dress after seeing the woman's happiness. She even offers to go with her to the tailor's in order to see what can be done to shorten the lovely dress that will complete the rest of the couple's wedding day during the second half of their ceremony that will take place in a more traditional restaurant setting.
After we have exchanged a little more conversation, they leave hand in hand, and I marvel that any Young couple of today would choose to get married - and yet, my romantic heart beats a little quicker since it has not become SO jaded that it has completely given up on the idea that a happy mariage can be experienced by two loving parties... I wish those two all of the happiness in the world and may they guide each other through all of life's valleys, hills, rivers, mudslides, puddles, mountains and caves, but may they also walk lovingly hand in hand when fortune decides to shine on their union and their love.
''Et bien, tu vois, nous cherchons une seconde robe de mariage pour la deuxieme partie de notre mariage. La premiere robe a déjà été choisit et la je vais vous compter notre concept.''
''Oui, la premiere robe c'est la robe de ma mere qu'elle est en train de modifier pour moi,'' The strawberry blonde and purple-clad glasses woman interjects, her pale blue eyes lighting up from within and a huge grin plastering her pale face.
''Donc, pour la premiere partie de la ceremonie, nous allons faire un trajet dans la bouette sur des quatre par quatre - elle va etre dans sa robe de marier, moi dans mon habit, avec des bottes de pluie...''
I am assuming at this point that my smiling face and bewildered eyes speak for themselves since the Young-looking woman adds, ''Ma mere est au courant que sa robe de marier va etre completement trasher, et c'est ca un peu l'idee car ce mariage n'a pas durer...''
The long, two-toned coloured haired man turns to Lucie and begins to explain, ''Tu vois, la vie c'est comme un parcours dans la bouette, et le mariage aussi... parfois, c'est elle qui va me guider dans la bouette de la vie, par dessous les cotes et les roches, et d'autres fois ca va etre moi qui va l'aider...''
He turns towards me and continues, his eyes shining with the love he feels for his beaming fiance, ''Y'a différents mariages de nos jours: civil que nous ne voulions pas car nous sommes pas vraiment conformistes, religieux qui ne rentre pas dans nos idees non plus, et le mariage symbolique que nous avons choisit.''
My eyes unwillingly well with tears as I think of my own past love stories and how I had pictured my life as being different than what it is at this moment in time... in a lot of ways, my life is BETTER than what it could have been. Had I married the man who contributed at least physically to making my beautiful son, our life, that of me and my son, would not have been what it is now, which is, despite mommy's human failures and mistakes, a lot less miserable than what it would have been WITH Zach's sperm-donor of a father.
Finally, Lucie pulls down a very simple yet oh-so-perfect white dress that fits the couple's simple yet romantic style... the soon-to-be bride prances into the dressing room and exits looking as gorgeous as a Grecian goddess of times past. The top part of the dress hugs her with all of its little ripples and pleats and the thick and lacy straps add a respectable hint of modesty; the flowing bottom half of the dress swooshes around the beloved's hips and flows to the ground, ending with some old-fashioned lace that will of course need to be hemmed, given the young lady's small stature.
Lucie decides to lower the price of the dress after seeing the woman's happiness. She even offers to go with her to the tailor's in order to see what can be done to shorten the lovely dress that will complete the rest of the couple's wedding day during the second half of their ceremony that will take place in a more traditional restaurant setting.
After we have exchanged a little more conversation, they leave hand in hand, and I marvel that any Young couple of today would choose to get married - and yet, my romantic heart beats a little quicker since it has not become SO jaded that it has completely given up on the idea that a happy mariage can be experienced by two loving parties... I wish those two all of the happiness in the world and may they guide each other through all of life's valleys, hills, rivers, mudslides, puddles, mountains and caves, but may they also walk lovingly hand in hand when fortune decides to shine on their union and their love.
Monday, January 13, 2014
2013: A Retrospective Glance
Yet another year has passed me by, at first seeming as though it would never end, and then whizzing past me like the Metro when I have just breathlessly run down the stairs and missed it... I've gone through the wringer not once, but again and again more than just a few times, like a well-worn flannel shirt wrung through those ancient laundry devices, pressed and flattened to take out all of the moisture, and yet in my case, it has been my essence instead of water, leaking and oozing out through the fibres of my skin onto the freezing, unforgiving and bare floor. I built myself up again by gathering the shattered pieces of my soul, and yet I blindly let myself be toppled over by others or foolishly blew my own castle of cards down in desperation or hopelessness... a female version of Humpty Dumpty that has not quite been mended after her great fall...
I thought I had my shit figured out, and yet queries as to who I am and what it is that I need and want, which are two VERY different and often opposing forces, still rattle within the confines of my skull...
The things I DID accomplish shall now be viewed instead of the many mistakes I have made along this often frightening journey we wise humans have named Life...
I have unfolded into and filled my role as the mother, albeit not without many growing pains, I had once dreamed I would actually be and I am very proud of myself for this. Of course, I am NOT perfect, and no mother is, despite what many mommy's boys shall loyally insist upon about their own mothers, but I have become quite capable and able to raise my beautiful son. He has given me the strength, even on those very dark days and nights I have experienced just this past year when niether the sun nor the moon seemed to be shining, to keep going and to do the necessary every day chores between the four walls of our apartment that have seen and heard so much since my son has inhabited within them: the death of two significant and oh-so-frighteningly-similar relationships, a mother's tears and fears, and a woman's longings and desires. He has become such a joy to observe and interact with, his new words, including 'mama,' delight and entice my maternal ears every single day and just seeing him run around the apartment makes my heart dance in pride. We've come a long way together, and yes, I can now say, with conviction, that I AM a good mother. Going to therapy, something I would have NEVER done before due to my abhorrence of therapists, helped me quite a lot in battling the often bogus expectations I once held as to who or what I should be as a mother. And so, going to therapy is also something that I am quite happy about because I slayed the demons and dragons holding me back from having such a helpful experience.
I have also become a more confident cook, adding new recipes to my once bleak repertoire and being able to put together new and often wonderful meals with on-hand ingredients rather than having to follow a specific recipe. I even filled my standing freezer this summer with a bunch of homemade meals that I would assemble and cook before and while Zach was napping - ok, the lentil soup came out WAY too spicy, and the brocoli puree I made burnt the shit out of my wrist while I was blending it, leaving a battle scar that will forever remind my of my culinary forrays, but still, a lot of what I did make was actually REALLY good.
I became a blue belt in karate, the night before my 30th birthday, able to take the punches and kicks thrown at me while remaining on the defensive... my fighting style mimicking my lifestyle, always remaining on the defensive and only blocking or defending myself rather than being the attacker.
I inched myself a little closer to my own personal ideal of beauty, having my skin inked and marked to cover the invisible scars that only my jaded eyes can see... adding a mermaid to cover an idiotic mark of devotion and love, and stars to mark all of my accomplishments... I also recently shaved off all of my lank and limp blonde hair in order to release myself from the confines of imposed feminine beauty... the experience of shaving my own hair off completely was quite terrifying, but once it was done and I was looking at all of the dead hair in the towel-covered sink, I had never felt freer and better.
I became a student in the health field, going into the same line of work as both of my parents and finally feeling as though I was where I needed to be, getting into the transcription et secretariat medicale program at O'Sullivan College courtesy of Emploi Québec; however, not being sufficiently prepared and missing too many classes due in part to my son having begun daycare in August, I decided to abandon the program until a later date... so it is a 'to be continued' rather than an complete abandonment.
I began dating again... although without much success and acquiring too many stitches on my already broken heart... but hey, I was out there again, making myself sexy and trying my damnedest to make rotten new relationships into something they were clearly not...
I also started a new blog for struggling single mothers like me, sharing my joys, woes and troubles with other mothers and hoping to create an environment in which this novel public could also publish their own stories... I approached various organizations which have agreed to be freely advertised on my site so that new single moms could also get the help that I was either missing or got too late...
So, I grew into or donned the roles of:
Mother
Patient
Cook
Blue-belt Karateka
Beautiful Femme Fatale (with a shaved head, tattoos and piercings)
Student
Lover
Blogger
And yes, I have made MANY mistakes this past year, but I know where I went wrong and I recognize all of my faults AND qualities... to toot a cheesy Kelly Clarkson song 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger...' would be THE understatement of 2013...
After spending an almost sleepless New Year's Eve night by myself, polishing off a bottle of Gallo, wearing my star onesie pj, singing, dancing and crying to Imagine Dragon's 'Hear Me,' One Republic's 'Counting Stars' and Lady Gaga's 'Do What You Want With My Body,' I realized that the only person I can really count on is myself... and yes, this recognition hurt like Hell... like a punch in the face I thought I had blocked... but, there it is.
I am still the person I was when I first started this blog, but perhaps a little wiser, smarter, and edgier - my heart is still beating in my chest and hoping against all odds that I WILL find a man with whom I will share my life and now my beautiful son, and I still believe in the best and goodness of every single asshole, bitch and individual I meet, whether I spend 5 minutes, an hour or a week with them...
So, this female Humpty Dumpty will be put back together and will be glued and stitched and sewed to keep all of her pieces from falling apart again, but without any help from any foolish king's men...
Any definite plans for 2014? Not really, but I do have a lot of ideas and, my life being like a modern Canadian Pandora's box, the demons, evils, and injustices have escaped and run their course, now all there is left is hope, which my heart and soul cling to.
I thought I had my shit figured out, and yet queries as to who I am and what it is that I need and want, which are two VERY different and often opposing forces, still rattle within the confines of my skull...
The things I DID accomplish shall now be viewed instead of the many mistakes I have made along this often frightening journey we wise humans have named Life...
I have unfolded into and filled my role as the mother, albeit not without many growing pains, I had once dreamed I would actually be and I am very proud of myself for this. Of course, I am NOT perfect, and no mother is, despite what many mommy's boys shall loyally insist upon about their own mothers, but I have become quite capable and able to raise my beautiful son. He has given me the strength, even on those very dark days and nights I have experienced just this past year when niether the sun nor the moon seemed to be shining, to keep going and to do the necessary every day chores between the four walls of our apartment that have seen and heard so much since my son has inhabited within them: the death of two significant and oh-so-frighteningly-similar relationships, a mother's tears and fears, and a woman's longings and desires. He has become such a joy to observe and interact with, his new words, including 'mama,' delight and entice my maternal ears every single day and just seeing him run around the apartment makes my heart dance in pride. We've come a long way together, and yes, I can now say, with conviction, that I AM a good mother. Going to therapy, something I would have NEVER done before due to my abhorrence of therapists, helped me quite a lot in battling the often bogus expectations I once held as to who or what I should be as a mother. And so, going to therapy is also something that I am quite happy about because I slayed the demons and dragons holding me back from having such a helpful experience.
I have also become a more confident cook, adding new recipes to my once bleak repertoire and being able to put together new and often wonderful meals with on-hand ingredients rather than having to follow a specific recipe. I even filled my standing freezer this summer with a bunch of homemade meals that I would assemble and cook before and while Zach was napping - ok, the lentil soup came out WAY too spicy, and the brocoli puree I made burnt the shit out of my wrist while I was blending it, leaving a battle scar that will forever remind my of my culinary forrays, but still, a lot of what I did make was actually REALLY good.
I became a blue belt in karate, the night before my 30th birthday, able to take the punches and kicks thrown at me while remaining on the defensive... my fighting style mimicking my lifestyle, always remaining on the defensive and only blocking or defending myself rather than being the attacker.
I inched myself a little closer to my own personal ideal of beauty, having my skin inked and marked to cover the invisible scars that only my jaded eyes can see... adding a mermaid to cover an idiotic mark of devotion and love, and stars to mark all of my accomplishments... I also recently shaved off all of my lank and limp blonde hair in order to release myself from the confines of imposed feminine beauty... the experience of shaving my own hair off completely was quite terrifying, but once it was done and I was looking at all of the dead hair in the towel-covered sink, I had never felt freer and better.
I became a student in the health field, going into the same line of work as both of my parents and finally feeling as though I was where I needed to be, getting into the transcription et secretariat medicale program at O'Sullivan College courtesy of Emploi Québec; however, not being sufficiently prepared and missing too many classes due in part to my son having begun daycare in August, I decided to abandon the program until a later date... so it is a 'to be continued' rather than an complete abandonment.
I began dating again... although without much success and acquiring too many stitches on my already broken heart... but hey, I was out there again, making myself sexy and trying my damnedest to make rotten new relationships into something they were clearly not...
I also started a new blog for struggling single mothers like me, sharing my joys, woes and troubles with other mothers and hoping to create an environment in which this novel public could also publish their own stories... I approached various organizations which have agreed to be freely advertised on my site so that new single moms could also get the help that I was either missing or got too late...
So, I grew into or donned the roles of:
Mother
Patient
Cook
Blue-belt Karateka
Beautiful Femme Fatale (with a shaved head, tattoos and piercings)
Student
Lover
Blogger
And yes, I have made MANY mistakes this past year, but I know where I went wrong and I recognize all of my faults AND qualities... to toot a cheesy Kelly Clarkson song 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger...' would be THE understatement of 2013...
After spending an almost sleepless New Year's Eve night by myself, polishing off a bottle of Gallo, wearing my star onesie pj, singing, dancing and crying to Imagine Dragon's 'Hear Me,' One Republic's 'Counting Stars' and Lady Gaga's 'Do What You Want With My Body,' I realized that the only person I can really count on is myself... and yes, this recognition hurt like Hell... like a punch in the face I thought I had blocked... but, there it is.
I am still the person I was when I first started this blog, but perhaps a little wiser, smarter, and edgier - my heart is still beating in my chest and hoping against all odds that I WILL find a man with whom I will share my life and now my beautiful son, and I still believe in the best and goodness of every single asshole, bitch and individual I meet, whether I spend 5 minutes, an hour or a week with them...
So, this female Humpty Dumpty will be put back together and will be glued and stitched and sewed to keep all of her pieces from falling apart again, but without any help from any foolish king's men...
Any definite plans for 2014? Not really, but I do have a lot of ideas and, my life being like a modern Canadian Pandora's box, the demons, evils, and injustices have escaped and run their course, now all there is left is hope, which my heart and soul cling to.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Baa Baa Black Sheep...
For the first time in my adult life, after thirteen years of having graduated from my wonderful high school (hear the sarcasm people), I have become the black sheep of my class and I feel as though I have been transported back into that time when I was often the last chosen on a team for gym class, or when I was happiest reading my many books while the rest of my classmates looked at their pagers or gossiped about everyone else or their clubbing adventures... and man oh man does it ever hurt.
I believe that I am by nature a pretty happy person - and until very recently, this has not really been the case... I have my baby boy to thank in part for this massive change in attitude and lifestyle; he has enabled me to begin cherishing and appreciating our and my life to a much higher degree since about January.
I have also been the benefactress of a great gift bestowed upon me by my maternal grandfather, who loved other people so much that he knew the names of every single person on his street; as a result of my seeing him interact with others, and perhaps due to an innate quality of mine, I am often the recipient of many life stories shared on a bus or metro, or I am the giver of hugs, smiles and words of encouragement. I am also a born leader, and I never shy away from taking control in any given situation. Consequently, I had been voted class president, and I had done my duty above and beyond what had been expected of me... until I was demoted by a general class mutiny.
But why? And imagine this being asked in a high-pitched, whiny voice. Well, due to some unfortunate absences caused by the new germs acquired by my son at daycare, and due to my own negligence and stubborness, I have missed a lot of classes. Also, due to some kind of wormhole established in my house or right outside my door, the time between when I wake up and when I get to school completely vanishes so that I am left running breathlessly to my morning classes EVERY single day. Thus, I am NOT a class favorite... far from being the class favorite in fact.
Now, rather than go into further details, I just wish that people would adopt the following mantra:
LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH
And let others do the same.
I have been warned for my misbehaviour, and I know where I have been in the wrong or not, so I am trying very hard to remedy the situation - but what happens to me and in my life does not regard anyone else BUT me...
Monday, October 7, 2013
Jospeh and Greg
Taking a few moments to talk with or listen to another human being can change your day in the most magnificent way possible. I had the privilege of meeting and speaking with two incredible individuals last week and I wish to share these two encounters with you.
The first occured on the Metro, on my way home to be with my beautiful baby boy. A grey-haired man wearing a grey and yellow wind-breaker stepped on and uncerimoniously sat down next me, and I smiled as he did so. As my Ipod blared an old Nelly Furtado song in my ears, I noticed that this man was still glancing my way, so I quickly pressed pause and grinned back. Our converstaion began with his asking if I was going to work, and it unfolded into my talking about Zach and asking him a few questions to which he answered child-like and innocently; pretty soon, I was showing him a picture of Zach and he sweetly asked me if I would take his picture, which I did and have kept on my phone. As my station was approaching, he gallantly told me that I was as pretty as a flower and that I had a beautiful smile, to which I responded with two quick kisses on both his scratchy beard-covered cheeks before happily trotting off the Metro.
The second occurred at the corner of Peel and Ste. Catherine, when I heard the notes of a guitar being plucked by yet another grey-haired but this time, bandanna-clad man, sitting on a tiny stool with his guitar poised on his knees. I decided to stop and listen, singing along to the songs I know, and he acquiesced to my request of Joe Cocker's A Little Help from my Friends. We chatted a bit about love, his blue eyes twinkling as he charmingly flirted with me, a young woman half his age, while he confessed that young women are not interested in him while old women his age are too serious for his young and childish heart. We chatted about life, and money and sang a few more songs together before we formally introduced ourselves and I gave him a big bear hug. Then, I made my way to the Metro while he also went on his merry way, his guitar slung on his shoulder and his little seat resting in the crook of his arm.
What binds all of us together, our commonality, is that we are all human, no matter what nationality, culture, religion, social status, gender or age... and this fact is so easy to forget as we go about our daily business and we become obsessed with what we think we need and deserve.
The first occured on the Metro, on my way home to be with my beautiful baby boy. A grey-haired man wearing a grey and yellow wind-breaker stepped on and uncerimoniously sat down next me, and I smiled as he did so. As my Ipod blared an old Nelly Furtado song in my ears, I noticed that this man was still glancing my way, so I quickly pressed pause and grinned back. Our converstaion began with his asking if I was going to work, and it unfolded into my talking about Zach and asking him a few questions to which he answered child-like and innocently; pretty soon, I was showing him a picture of Zach and he sweetly asked me if I would take his picture, which I did and have kept on my phone. As my station was approaching, he gallantly told me that I was as pretty as a flower and that I had a beautiful smile, to which I responded with two quick kisses on both his scratchy beard-covered cheeks before happily trotting off the Metro.
The second occurred at the corner of Peel and Ste. Catherine, when I heard the notes of a guitar being plucked by yet another grey-haired but this time, bandanna-clad man, sitting on a tiny stool with his guitar poised on his knees. I decided to stop and listen, singing along to the songs I know, and he acquiesced to my request of Joe Cocker's A Little Help from my Friends. We chatted a bit about love, his blue eyes twinkling as he charmingly flirted with me, a young woman half his age, while he confessed that young women are not interested in him while old women his age are too serious for his young and childish heart. We chatted about life, and money and sang a few more songs together before we formally introduced ourselves and I gave him a big bear hug. Then, I made my way to the Metro while he also went on his merry way, his guitar slung on his shoulder and his little seat resting in the crook of his arm.
What binds all of us together, our commonality, is that we are all human, no matter what nationality, culture, religion, social status, gender or age... and this fact is so easy to forget as we go about our daily business and we become obsessed with what we think we need and deserve.
Smiling at Strangers
In this individualistic world in which everyone's eyes stare down at the cigarette-butt littered and gum-splattered sidewalks and only furtively glance up so as not to run into a person or object, as they impatiently and hurriedly make their way to the various obligations awaiting them, where are the humanitarian gazes?
Smiling at someone as the individual passes you by is completely free, only takes a moment, and will perhaps make his or her day better. So why isn't everyone offering this free and magnificent gift to anyone who strolls passed them?
Moreover, why is a person SO surprised when a grin is offered to them? An initial look of shock flashes through the stranger's facial features until, if you are lucky, a reflective smirk robs their lips of its initial grimace.
Thus, I say cross the self-imposed barriers people have erected in front of themselves and be the first to make a human contact with another human being... see what happens... might make YOU feel better as well.
Smiling at someone as the individual passes you by is completely free, only takes a moment, and will perhaps make his or her day better. So why isn't everyone offering this free and magnificent gift to anyone who strolls passed them?
Moreover, why is a person SO surprised when a grin is offered to them? An initial look of shock flashes through the stranger's facial features until, if you are lucky, a reflective smirk robs their lips of its initial grimace.
Thus, I say cross the self-imposed barriers people have erected in front of themselves and be the first to make a human contact with another human being... see what happens... might make YOU feel better as well.
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