(If you don't believe that bunch of bull, feel free to e-mail me for the real details)
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Sunday, November 26, 2006
What happens in Fargo, stays in Fargo
Joanna, Abby, Sherry and I went on a lovely shopping trip to Fargo, ND this weekend. We were completely well behaved the whole weekend and had fun just hanging out together as girls. On Saturday night we stayed in, watched The Wedding Singer, braided each other's hair, and drank hot chocolate. We wanted to be in bed early so we would be able to wake up for the bus ride home on Sunday.
(If you don't believe that bunch of bull, feel free to e-mail me for the real details)
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(If you don't believe that bunch of bull, feel free to e-mail me for the real details)
Show encrypted text
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Grey Cup/I love my Mom/My tribute to Tom Cochrane
It was Grey Cup Week in Winnipeg. I did not partake in as much of the festivities as I did last time it was here. I missed the parade. It was pretty hard to get excited about the event when the two dirtiest teams in the league made it to the finals. I suppose the Leos were the lesser of the two evils some how so I'm not disappointed that they won.
The one event I did attend was the Tom Cochrane concert featuring the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra. I was so excited about this concert and it more than met my expectations. I truly respect and admire Tom Cochrane as a musician. Mad Mad World was the first tape I ever bought (I was 12 and I got my dad to take me to Woolco to pick it up). Tom and I go way back. I still maintain that at three minutes 40 seconds into Life is a Highway his back up singers shout "Jill!" I remember being so mad during the '94 Grey Cup when the power went out across half of Charleswood just before Tom took the stage for the halftime show. I suppose going to the concert this year made up for it in a way.
I think what I love most about Tom Cochrane is the weird way he connects me with my mom. Every time he comes to town or within hours of town I have a hard time finding someone to go to the concert with. This time I didn't even bother asking around, I just came home and told my mom I got us tickets. I'm glad I took her.
Way back in '93 I remember taking Tom Cochrane(Mad Mad World) and Bryan Adams (So Far So Good) with me on a family road trip. I listened to them alternately on my Sony Walkman while my parents listened to the radio or Neil Diamond. At some point my mom suggested we listen to my new tape. I handed it over but didn't think it would last very long. We did listen to the entire tape once through, after which my mom said, "the second side is a little heavier isn't it?" Yeah mom, it's not exactly Celine Dion.
Still, my mom seemed determined that she was going to share an appreciation for Tom with me. She bought his tape Victory Day, and when I raised my eyebrows at her she told me she liked Tom's music too. Okay sure, but I was the one who ended up keeping the tape in my possession for the most part.
A few years ago Tom was in town for the Red River Ex. Once again I wanted to go but didn't have anyone to go with. Only a day before the concert my mom says to me, "if you don't find anyone to go with, I'll go with you, Jill". So we went. She recognized some of the songs, I guess she had been listening all that time.
Mom was pretty quiet during Saturday's concert, not that I really expected her to sing along or scream "I love you Tom!" like the middle aged women behind us. As I said earlier, I loved the concert. Unless you're a fellow Tom Cochrane fan though there's not much point going into detail here. On our way out of the arena a guy dressed up as Elvis walks past us.
"Oh look, we can say we saw Elvis!" my mom exclaims.
Yeah mom, we just saw one of Canada's most talented singer/songwriters perform backed by our local symphony and you get excited about seeing a man in an Elvis costume.
"That's all you have to say?"
"No," she laughs. "It was a good concert."
That's my mom. I love her. She's cool to me.
Say what you want about Tom Cochrane, I still like him. I wrote something the other day inspired by one of his songs (All the Kings Men--the last song on Mad Mad World). I think I will share it here.
(I haven't decided on a title yet, it's some kind of lullaby)
Don't cry my darling
Just put those tears away
You're stronger than you know
And getting stronger every day
You've walked a long cold mile
In shoes too big for your feet
Just close your eyes and rest now
Proud you followed your heartbeat
Don't look at the stars for answers
Or down at the ground in despair
The hero in every battle
Learns that life is never fair
Don't cry my darling
Though your body and soul grow weary
I promise that soon you will be dancing
And your future will shine quite clearly
My darling
My darling
Your future will shine quite clearly
The one event I did attend was the Tom Cochrane concert featuring the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra. I was so excited about this concert and it more than met my expectations. I truly respect and admire Tom Cochrane as a musician. Mad Mad World was the first tape I ever bought (I was 12 and I got my dad to take me to Woolco to pick it up). Tom and I go way back. I still maintain that at three minutes 40 seconds into Life is a Highway his back up singers shout "Jill!" I remember being so mad during the '94 Grey Cup when the power went out across half of Charleswood just before Tom took the stage for the halftime show. I suppose going to the concert this year made up for it in a way.
I think what I love most about Tom Cochrane is the weird way he connects me with my mom. Every time he comes to town or within hours of town I have a hard time finding someone to go to the concert with. This time I didn't even bother asking around, I just came home and told my mom I got us tickets. I'm glad I took her.
Way back in '93 I remember taking Tom Cochrane(Mad Mad World) and Bryan Adams (So Far So Good) with me on a family road trip. I listened to them alternately on my Sony Walkman while my parents listened to the radio or Neil Diamond. At some point my mom suggested we listen to my new tape. I handed it over but didn't think it would last very long. We did listen to the entire tape once through, after which my mom said, "the second side is a little heavier isn't it?" Yeah mom, it's not exactly Celine Dion.
Still, my mom seemed determined that she was going to share an appreciation for Tom with me. She bought his tape Victory Day, and when I raised my eyebrows at her she told me she liked Tom's music too. Okay sure, but I was the one who ended up keeping the tape in my possession for the most part.
A few years ago Tom was in town for the Red River Ex. Once again I wanted to go but didn't have anyone to go with. Only a day before the concert my mom says to me, "if you don't find anyone to go with, I'll go with you, Jill". So we went. She recognized some of the songs, I guess she had been listening all that time.
Mom was pretty quiet during Saturday's concert, not that I really expected her to sing along or scream "I love you Tom!" like the middle aged women behind us. As I said earlier, I loved the concert. Unless you're a fellow Tom Cochrane fan though there's not much point going into detail here. On our way out of the arena a guy dressed up as Elvis walks past us.
"Oh look, we can say we saw Elvis!" my mom exclaims.
Yeah mom, we just saw one of Canada's most talented singer/songwriters perform backed by our local symphony and you get excited about seeing a man in an Elvis costume.
"That's all you have to say?"
"No," she laughs. "It was a good concert."
That's my mom. I love her. She's cool to me.
Say what you want about Tom Cochrane, I still like him. I wrote something the other day inspired by one of his songs (All the Kings Men--the last song on Mad Mad World). I think I will share it here.
(I haven't decided on a title yet, it's some kind of lullaby)
Don't cry my darling
Just put those tears away
You're stronger than you know
And getting stronger every day
You've walked a long cold mile
In shoes too big for your feet
Just close your eyes and rest now
Proud you followed your heartbeat
Don't look at the stars for answers
Or down at the ground in despair
The hero in every battle
Learns that life is never fair
Don't cry my darling
Though your body and soul grow weary
I promise that soon you will be dancing
And your future will shine quite clearly
My darling
My darling
Your future will shine quite clearly
Monday, November 13, 2006
It's Cool to be Kind
Monday, November 13, 2006 is World Kindness Day, which also marks the beginning of World Kindness Week. To honour the occasion I decided that I wanted to commit a planned act of kindness and make my co-workers my lucky victims. The results were touching and surprising.I knew that I could not accomplish this feat alone so I recruited Joanna to help me. We decided our weapon of choice would be cupcakes to which we would affix personalised notes of appreciation for all 37 people in the department. We could not have anticipated the amount of time required for what seemed at first like a modest gesture, but every moment was well worth it.
Joanna was in charge of baking the cupcakes. I had to make the icing and gather the cellophane and ribbon for wrapping. We got together on Saturday afternoon to assemble the gifts.
"Do you want to make one for Gus?" she asked me with a smile. Gus (real name changed to protect his identity and to prevent confusion as he has the same first name as someone else I regularly talk about on this blog) and I recently endured what will forever be known as The Most Awkward Introduction Ever. I was moved nearly to tears last week when I discovered the lengths to which some people went to in order to get us to meet. I had some reservations about making one for him but I knew that if I didn't do it, Joanna would so at least this way I would have a say in the message.
We finished putting together the little bundles of joy around 10:30 pm and then drove to the office to place them. After that all we could do was wait for Monday morning to come and hope for a good reaction.
When I came in on Monday the office was buzzing about the mystery gifts. I feigned my surprise and announced I had a secret admirer to which others responded, "me too!" For the next while Joanna and I struggled to keep straight faces as we listened to the theories about who the culprit was. Just before 9:00 we were cornered and accused. Neither one of us can lie very well and so the gig was up. These were some of my favourite responses:
- One of the designers came up and hugged me. She said that she had been having a terrible Monday morning until she saw the treat on her desk. The note made her day.
- Another designer concluded (before the secret was revealed) that it had to be a bribe. Later he stopped me and asked, "so you really don't want anything from me?"
- One of the managers emailed Joanna and I a thank you for the creative idea and a promise to return the favour (although that's not at all why we did it!)
I didn't do this project for the many thank-you's or even for a date. I did it because I wanted to touch and inspire people. My hope was that I somehow positively affected someone's day and that they would be encouraged to pass along the good cheer. I strongly believe in the power of kindness. Even the smallest act can profoundly affect someone and there is no limit to what may result because someone went out of their way to be nice. Sometimes I am lucky enough to see the change. Sometimes I admit my work may have failed to yield any results, but I attribute that failure to something else at work that is much more powerful than I.
In February is Random Acts of Kindness Week. I would really like to do something on a larger scale for this one. I will need to gather a large group of people to do this though. I am hoping I put the spirit into some people and they will want to join me. RAK day is actually February 14 and I can't think of a more perfect date than spending the day together making someone else's day.
Please go out and commit some kindness, I promise you won't be disappointed.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Connect For...
People have been bugging me to blog with more frequency lately. It's nice, really, when they ask why I haven't posted in a while. Obviously, part of the reason I blog is for my audience, otherwise I'd just keep all these stories to myself. This particular post focuses a bit on the last person who asked me why I haven't blogged in awhile. I hope he doesn't regret his request.
On Saturday night I had a ticket to go to my friend's hockey social. Pause. Consider readers who are not from Manitoba and explain the term "social".
so‧cial /ˈsoʊmg class="luna-Img" src="http://cache.lexico.com/dictionary/graphics/luna/thinsp.png" alt="" border="0">ʃəl/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[soh-sh<i>uh
l] A traditional Manitoba fundraising event, typically held for soon-to-be-married couples. Ticket cost is usually $10.00. Event takes place often at a community club on a Friday or Saturday evening and activities include dancing/trying to hold a conversation over ridiculously loud music being played by a usually not so hot dj, a silent/rainbow auction, and a late night lunch which serves to fullfill the liquor licence requirement. One can usually expect to see a plate each of Old Dutch potato chips and pretzels on every table. The lunch will include Kub Rye bread, assorted cold cuts, cubed cheese, and dill pickels. If you are lucky enough to end up at say a Filipino or Italian family social, the amount and variety of snacks will greatly increase. "Getting Hammered" is another popular activity. Drinks aren't exactly cheap, and you're out of luck if you prefer something other than the basic vodka, rum, orange juice, cola/clear pop or beer options, but at least you know that it's all going to a worth while cause.
As I was saying...had a ticket to my friend's hockey social on Saturday night (a social to raise money for the hockey team). By 7:00 that night I was kind of not feeling the desire to go. Rob and I were supposed to go together but when I was talking to him earlier in the day he said he wasn't feeling so great. I really hoped he wasn't going to bail on the night. I knew if he did I'd have a really hard time dragging myself to go.
I closed my eyes and visually flipped through my closet, trying to figure out what I could wear. I really wasn't in the mood for changing out of my cozy University of Calgary sweatshirt, putting my face on, and doing something with my hair. Getting ready really wasn't what was dampening my enthusiasm so much as the thought of having to fake a conversation with the people I knew were going to be there.
I am approaching 25 years of age. I have been through the dramas of high school, university, boyfriends and best-friends. There are chapters of my life which I would like to leave alone. Even though they happened so very long ago (so it seems), I can still see the scars the events and people left on me. To cover them up, I grew a second, tougher skin. It allows me to get through meetings with these re-appearing characters with relatively little pain. The problem with this skin is that it doesn't have much elasticity. It's very hard to laugh, dance, relax, in this skin. Every smile and gesture is forced through politeness. Thankfully, I can easily grow and shed this skin as required.
Before picking out my clothes, I phoned Rob to verify that he was still in.
"Hello?" he sounded groggy.
"Were you sleeping?" I asked, apologetically
"Maybe."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you still want to go tonight?"
"Yeah, but only for a little bit."
"That's fine with me," I answered, feeling relieved that A) he was still going, and B) that we wouldn't be there long. At least with him there, I knew I could ease up on the defensive stance. Why? I guess there's just something comforting about his company.
When we walked in the place wasn't too busy yet. My hockey friend told us the ticket sales were very good. She recommended the vodka and Tang. As more friends arrived we got caught up on the news until the music makes it nearly impossible to carry on.
Later that night, my friend's boyfriend came over and sat beside me. I'm not a big fan of this guy, although I'm getting better at tolerating him. He was well on his way to earning a Sunday morning hangover but still kind enough to buy me a drink. I looked over at Rob.
"Don't you want to go home soon?" I asked. He shrugged in a way that told me I would be crazy to turn down a free drink. So I didn't.
The conversation with the boyfriend was amusing to say the least. I liked the part where he was trying to name off all the crops they grow on his farm. "Did I say wheat?" he asked after naming it two or three times.
He wanted me to come over to his table and meet his friends. I laughed and told him I had met his friends on several occassions before.
"We're jusabuncha goodguys, Jill. Wejus like to'ave a good time," he told me while looking very serious.
"I know," I nodded and tried to look approving.
"Andon't worry, I'll-look afteryer friend. Cuz she's ma-girl."
Touching. Really. I found myself struggling between wanting to roll my eyes and actually finding some respect for him. I suppose my friend is lucky to have this guy looking out for her. Maybe he takes that idea a little too far sometimes, but the general idea is sweet. He actually has come a long way since they first started going out. This gives me hope.
A little after midnight Rob was ready to go home. We said our goodbyes and headed off. The ride home was mostly quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. I used the time to start forming a blog in my head. I kept getting to a point and then scratching it out to censor myself. Sometimes I wish I had some anonymity in this thing. I fear this post already has gotten dangerously personal.
"You haven't blogged in a while," Rob said, unaware how ironic his interruption was.
"I guess I just haven't had anything to blog about lately," I answered. It's a typical response amongst bloggers, I find. It's also a lie, well, for me anyway. There is always something to blog about. There is always a thought or an opinion, a memory, a pain that you want to release. There are things I want to scream on this blog in hopes that someone will surprise me and post a comment showing their agreement or at least their empathy. Sometimes it works out, sometimes I can only hope there is someone out there reading my rant and nodding, or at least thinking.
As I said, I could just write all this in a journal, but then there would never be the opportunity for connection. Nevertheless, as I got out of Rob's car, closed the door and hurried to the doorstep, I decided that I already have all the connections I need.
On Saturday night I had a ticket to go to my friend's hockey social. Pause. Consider readers who are not from Manitoba and explain the term "social".
so‧cial /ˈsoʊmg class="luna-Img" src="http://cache.lexico.com/dictionary/graphics/luna/thinsp.png" alt="" border="0">ʃəl/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[soh-sh<i>uh
l] A traditional Manitoba fundraising event, typically held for soon-to-be-married couples. Ticket cost is usually $10.00. Event takes place often at a community club on a Friday or Saturday evening and activities include dancing/trying to hold a conversation over ridiculously loud music being played by a usually not so hot dj, a silent/rainbow auction, and a late night lunch which serves to fullfill the liquor licence requirement. One can usually expect to see a plate each of Old Dutch potato chips and pretzels on every table. The lunch will include Kub Rye bread, assorted cold cuts, cubed cheese, and dill pickels. If you are lucky enough to end up at say a Filipino or Italian family social, the amount and variety of snacks will greatly increase. "Getting Hammered" is another popular activity. Drinks aren't exactly cheap, and you're out of luck if you prefer something other than the basic vodka, rum, orange juice, cola/clear pop or beer options, but at least you know that it's all going to a worth while cause.As I was saying...had a ticket to my friend's hockey social on Saturday night (a social to raise money for the hockey team). By 7:00 that night I was kind of not feeling the desire to go. Rob and I were supposed to go together but when I was talking to him earlier in the day he said he wasn't feeling so great. I really hoped he wasn't going to bail on the night. I knew if he did I'd have a really hard time dragging myself to go.
I closed my eyes and visually flipped through my closet, trying to figure out what I could wear. I really wasn't in the mood for changing out of my cozy University of Calgary sweatshirt, putting my face on, and doing something with my hair. Getting ready really wasn't what was dampening my enthusiasm so much as the thought of having to fake a conversation with the people I knew were going to be there.
I am approaching 25 years of age. I have been through the dramas of high school, university, boyfriends and best-friends. There are chapters of my life which I would like to leave alone. Even though they happened so very long ago (so it seems), I can still see the scars the events and people left on me. To cover them up, I grew a second, tougher skin. It allows me to get through meetings with these re-appearing characters with relatively little pain. The problem with this skin is that it doesn't have much elasticity. It's very hard to laugh, dance, relax, in this skin. Every smile and gesture is forced through politeness. Thankfully, I can easily grow and shed this skin as required.
Before picking out my clothes, I phoned Rob to verify that he was still in.
"Hello?" he sounded groggy.
"Were you sleeping?" I asked, apologetically
"Maybe."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you still want to go tonight?"
"Yeah, but only for a little bit."
"That's fine with me," I answered, feeling relieved that A) he was still going, and B) that we wouldn't be there long. At least with him there, I knew I could ease up on the defensive stance. Why? I guess there's just something comforting about his company.
When we walked in the place wasn't too busy yet. My hockey friend told us the ticket sales were very good. She recommended the vodka and Tang. As more friends arrived we got caught up on the news until the music makes it nearly impossible to carry on.
Later that night, my friend's boyfriend came over and sat beside me. I'm not a big fan of this guy, although I'm getting better at tolerating him. He was well on his way to earning a Sunday morning hangover but still kind enough to buy me a drink. I looked over at Rob.
"Don't you want to go home soon?" I asked. He shrugged in a way that told me I would be crazy to turn down a free drink. So I didn't.
The conversation with the boyfriend was amusing to say the least. I liked the part where he was trying to name off all the crops they grow on his farm. "Did I say wheat?" he asked after naming it two or three times.
He wanted me to come over to his table and meet his friends. I laughed and told him I had met his friends on several occassions before.
"We're jusabuncha goodguys, Jill. Wejus like to'ave a good time," he told me while looking very serious.
"I know," I nodded and tried to look approving.
"Andon't worry, I'll-look afteryer friend. Cuz she's ma-girl."
Touching. Really. I found myself struggling between wanting to roll my eyes and actually finding some respect for him. I suppose my friend is lucky to have this guy looking out for her. Maybe he takes that idea a little too far sometimes, but the general idea is sweet. He actually has come a long way since they first started going out. This gives me hope.
A little after midnight Rob was ready to go home. We said our goodbyes and headed off. The ride home was mostly quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. I used the time to start forming a blog in my head. I kept getting to a point and then scratching it out to censor myself. Sometimes I wish I had some anonymity in this thing. I fear this post already has gotten dangerously personal.
"You haven't blogged in a while," Rob said, unaware how ironic his interruption was.
"I guess I just haven't had anything to blog about lately," I answered. It's a typical response amongst bloggers, I find. It's also a lie, well, for me anyway. There is always something to blog about. There is always a thought or an opinion, a memory, a pain that you want to release. There are things I want to scream on this blog in hopes that someone will surprise me and post a comment showing their agreement or at least their empathy. Sometimes it works out, sometimes I can only hope there is someone out there reading my rant and nodding, or at least thinking.
As I said, I could just write all this in a journal, but then there would never be the opportunity for connection. Nevertheless, as I got out of Rob's car, closed the door and hurried to the doorstep, I decided that I already have all the connections I need.
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