Canoodle in a Canoe with You

It's not warm today but it is sunny here. I went for a walk in the park this morning. I started trying running again last week. I got out twice (or was that three times?) but today I just walked it because I was still feeling a bit run down from the germ infestation in my body.

Yeah so in case you couldn't tell, yesterday I was full of frustration. I get anxious when it feels like my world is standing still and yesterday that is what it felt like. I felt stuck. When I feel stuck, I always want to do something to fix something. Some people suffer from paralyzing anxiety but me, I suffer from the kind that makes me take action. Trust me, this is not a good thing. Literally going stir crazy around 7:00 last night I couldn't take it any more so I headed to the mall to peruse the bookstore. I came home happy I killed some time but not completely cured of my frustration.

I've mentioned here before that my new mantra is "I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now". Most days, this does comfort me and settle my anxiety. It makes me stop before I go out and do something stupid. Some days though, it just doesn't do it for me. Yesterday was one of those days.

I am NOT exactly where I am supposed to be in this moment! I protested. I should NOT be sniffling. I should NOT be sitting here by myself here in my house. This is NOT the moment I should be in.

And today, being a lovely sunny day and all, I'm thinking again that this is not where I really want to be. I want to be out paddling my canoe. With you. (I don't know who you are, but I just like the idea of taking the chance that maybe You are reading this by some awesome coincidence right now and thinking that you wish you were out canoeing with me too.)

So what's with the canoe anyway? Why put all my dreams into one little, self-propelled boat? Let me tell you one of my favourite Jill Stories.

When I was 14 I went camping with my family and another family for a weekend. As we drove up to the park I was listening to Alanis Morissette on my Sony Walkman. I was an angry teenager who wished she was still in the city with a silly boy who, well, we'll just say he wasn't ready yet for a girl like me.

I learned to flirt that weekend. I was in a canoe with one of the girls from the other family. We were paddling behind her cousin, a dark-haired boy of 14, who was trying to swim across the lake to one of the islands nearby. I had never met him before and did not know he was going to be on this trip.

"Your hair's not even wet yet," I teased him and flicked a little water in his direction with my paddle.

He splashed back and then I reminded him, with what had to be my first flirtatious smile, that his clean and dry t-shirt was sitting in the canoe with me so it would be in his best interest to not send any water in my direction. Sparks flew? No, but water droplets certainly did.

Later, I announced I was going for a walk. The Boy asked if he could come along. I took the lead through the bush and over the rocks because I had been down the trails before and he had not.

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" he asked.

"Yes! I've been down this trail a million times. Just wait." To tell the truth, I was getting concerned myself that I had taken a wrong turn, but I certainly was not going to let this guy know that. At 14 I had my characteristic stubbornness and pride firmly in place.

We reached our destination which was a picnic table on the top of a rock face that looked over the lake. We both took a seat on the table. I can't remember what we talked about or if we really talked at all. I just remember him being very focused on slapping at the mosquitoes. I think he swatted a few on me too.

"I don't want them to bite you," he said.

"Are you cold?" he kept asking.

"No, I'm fine thanks," I replied.

"Cuz I could give you my jacket," he said.

I really had no clue. None at all. I mean, no boy had ever offered me his jacket or killed mosquitoes for me before. What was he doing? And why?

The trail back was a bit more rocky. I said something about hoping I wouldn't slip and sprain my ankle.

"I'd carry you back," The Boy said.

We spent a fair bit of time together that weekend, talking mostly. I remember sitting on the beach on another picnic table with him, looking up at the stars. He said something to me then too, and I am not going to repeat it here because it was very much 14-year-old-boy talk and it made me blush, but it was very sweet in nature. I finally started to clue in to his thoughts on me.

On the last day of the weekend we were on the dock. Me, being me, started rocking the dock back and forth until I lost my balance and was about to fall into the ugly, leech infested waters. The Boy grabbed my arm though and saved me. Indeed, he was my very first Prince Charming.

It was raining on the last day. We were all standing around the fire pit. The Boy was in a green rain poncho. We were listening to the news and they announced that Diana, Princess of Whales had died in a tragic car accident. Yes, I remember exactly where I was the day I found out Diana, the beloved princess of hearts died.

While I certainly wanted to believe that my parents were oblivious and dumb, on the way home from the weekend my dad asked me, "did you get The Boy's number?"

"No!" I said. "He says he rollerblades on the bike path all the time. We'll run into each other again for sure." I completely believed that that was going to happen. We'd meet up again, he'd slap mosquitoes for me again and I'd be able to leave in the dust that other silly boy who caused me such heartache.

But I never did see The Boy again. Never. I had left it all up to fate and my dream did not come true. When I realized that, I developed my anxiety. I swore I would never leave anything up to chance again. I would never lose out on something wonderful because I had let an opportunity to take action slip by. From that day forward, I always tried to fix things, I wouldn't let go of things even though they were no longer meant to be. I could not simply sit still and let things work themselves out. I had to take action. I had to go after everything I wanted with every ounce of passion and desire in my being. This isn't always the best way to operate. It may sound admirable, but it can scare people too. And I am learning that sometimes it really is best to just let things be.

So today it is driving me crazy sometimes. I want to react to things, I want to make my move, but I'm forcing myself to sit on my hands and just wait things out. It is true that some of the best things in my life came to me out of nowhere. I realize that I can't begin to call myself so knowledgeable that I truly do know what the best thing is to do to "fix" something or put something in motion. I struggle too though with the idea that I could just be letting life pass me by. Am I a driver or a passenger here? I guess I'm a driver who needs to learn when to let someone else take the wheel for a bit.

To me, the canoe represents so many things: a loss of innocence, a connection with nature, a vehicle to propel me forward in life, and pure, sweet romance. It really is a two-person thing and a symbol of my fairytale dream that may or may not ever come true. I know I came pretty close once.

Incidentally, I can also mention a time a few years ago when I was planning a camping trip to Blue Lake, Ontario with my group of high school friends. In that group of friends was a relatively new addition and he seemed to have taken a liking to me. That affection for me quickly dissipated though when we had a very heated argument on the phone before the trip. What were we fighting about? He wouldn't let me bring a canoe on his car.

I wish I was canoeing

I took a sick day today. Yesterday I was feeling crappy and this morning I didn't wake up feeling much better. It's really hard for me to admit to needing to stay home. Lisa has become the voice in my head that tells me to stay home. She strongly believes that people who come to work sick are just rude for sharing their germs with the rest of the office. So I let Lisa convince me to go back to bed and let some extra rest do its magic.

I hate hate hate being at home sick. It is so boring. I eventually turned on the TV and watched Who's the Boss?, The O.C., something I don't remember, and Oprah.

I checked out some blogs I sometimes read and was dismayed to see that seemingly everyone is depressed about being single and has decided to give up completely on the dating and love thing. Yikes. Then I checked my mail and pulled out my single ticket to see Kieth Urban. Yikes.

The other thing that sucks about staying home sick is that I miss the social interaction that comes with going into the office. People were supposed to be going out for drinks after tonight too.

So I was just sitting here, feeling all bummed and bored and stuffy headed thinking about how I've talked to no one today (which is actually a lie because my dad phoned to say they were going away for the weekend) and being pissed off that I was missing out on sitting on a patio somewhere seeing and being seen when lo and behold, a man in a blue shirt pounded on my front door.

"Are you the queen of the household?" He asked. Let me tell you, this is not a good opening line for any purpose. It turned out he was soliciting for Plan Canada, a not-for-profit organization that signs people up for sponsoring children, collects funds for disaster relief, etc. What does it matter if my name is on the mortgage papers, do you want my money or not? I made quick work of getting him off of my front door step.

After closing the door I grumbled, "Very funny, Universe. Yes, you certainly did deliver a smartly dressed man to my doorstep."

In the name of Karma and all that jazz, I went online and donated what I would have spent on the patio today to Plan Canada. Take that smarty pants Universe.

The Big picture

I messaged NYF (New York Friend) last night to tell him I bought a case of beer. NYF enjoys beer and knows that I mostly do not.

"I ran a marathon this Sunday," he replied.

I then told him about my canoe.

Me: The mighty green vessel I purchased is a bit heavy for me. I am in search of a strong young fellow to help me carry it and then navigate it and then beach it some where and then navigate me. :)

NYF: I'm sure if such a man walked by your house and saw a canoe and a girl drinking a beer, he'd go gaga.

Sometimes NYF does know what a girl likes to hear.

Me: How's the city doing? Is your apartment a sweaty place in the warmer weather?

NYF: not yet. still very nice. Hey, I found out I can skate to school this winter in Ottawa.

Me: You are going to school in Ottawa? I though you were staying in New York? But yes, super cool.

NYF: Oh, have I not mentioned? Yeah, Masters of Journalism at Carleton for 2 years.

Me: Hm. I knew about the Masters of Journalism but I thought you were doing that in NY. How did I get that mixed up? I will have to edit my blog. I mentioned you the other day so as to paint the picture of the fabulous company I keep.

NYF: I'll have to start reading it!

We chatted some more about life, love, politics and puns. Then NYF said, "I'm reading up on "NYF" now :)"

I sat up with a jolt and tried to think back to what exactly I wrote about NYF five months ago when I was visiting him in New York. I had written those posts figuring there was maybe a 5% chance he'd ever read them. Until now, NYF has not followed my blog, or, at least not with any kind of regularity since we first met in 2006. I always write with consideration of who my potential audience is. NYF was not part of that consideration.

He started quoting me.

NYF: "I imagine when he and the future Mrs. NYF get engaged, they will be riding elephants across the Serengeti or something and he will present her with an earth- and socially-friendly bamboo ring." That sounds so awesome :)

me: Just remember, I called it.

Then he quoted the part where I described our goodbye:

"Nope, just all the warmth and sentimentality of a border security guard, like he was reciting from a book titled Common Polite English Expressions to Use with People You Don't Really Like."

NYF: Sorry, I wasn't exactly going for that vibe.

I am reminded now of that episode of Sex and the City where Carrie meets up with Big in California. Carrie is there to do a book signing and reading. Big is living in California. She meets with him hoping for a night of no strings sex but Big is distracted. He has read her book which mentions him and he is suddenly aware of what a Big Ass he was to her.

He says, "I had no idea that l hurt you so much. It was tough to see it in print."

Part of me wants to say this scene is every scorned girl's dream. How often do you get to have someone who has put a spike in your heart join your audience as a mature, open-minded adult and actually nod along with your description of them? See things from your point of view instead of getting defensive? Admit to that moment of realization that they really were an insensitive, selfish, mind-game playing jerk? But finding myself in a distantly (very distantly) similar situation, I just wanted to do exactly as Carrie did, brush it off as old history, me being a dramatic girl caught up in a moment. Or at the very least, just good story-telling.

After reading a bit further, NYF wrote: You're very honest, so it's a neat way to learn about myself.

I nearly fell off my chair.

I have given up trying to figure out why NYF and I are friends. We have nothing in common. Nothing really significant anyway. Sometimes he really is an insensitive jerk. Sometimes I'm a, well, I'm just going to say sometimes I am such a girl. That, and for some reason I get very punny with him. I am not punny around anyone else. He just brings that bizarre talent out in me. The beautiful thing (and the part that I keep forgetting) is that NYF and I seem to have no fear in just being ourselves with each other. I don't have to be afraid to show him my warts or say the wrong thing. He chooses to be my friend anyway. When I can find that, plus romance in the same package, I will be on the road to love.

You still there, NYF? ;)

The answer is: Jill

Yesterday my West Coast Soul Sista, Kasia, dropped me a line letting me know that she has a friend in Winnipeg who is looking to build up her photography portfolio and offering free sessions. Kasia suggested this would be the perfect time for me to visually "document my awesomeness".

I checked out the link Kasia sent me to see about getting booked in. At first I wasn't sure if I'd get accepted as the photographer stated she was seeking subjects for lifestyle portraiture; e.g. maternity, newborns and older babies, children, families, couples, and pets. The only category I'd qualify for there is "pets" but Elmo is not very good at getting his picture taken. I took my chance anyway and sent this note to Alexandra:

My friend Kasia let me know that you are currently doing free photo sessions to build your portfolio. I am not pregnant, a mother, or even part of a couple, but I did just buy a canoe, and I have a beautiful orange truck that I love. So if you think that either of those, plus me, would make for an interesting subject, let me know. I'd love to take advantage of your offer.

She replied with this:

As a matter of fact, I have been on a quest to find such a transportation-oriented subject (also seeking willing model with pet tigers, if you know anyone...;) )

First of all, yay! This is going to be fun and cool! I haven't had my picture professionally done (aside from wedding party photos) since I graduated from high school. I have way better hair now!

Second of all, but certainly no less exciting, Alexandra was on a quest for someone like me. Today, just for being me, I was the answer somebody was looking for. That's really cool when I think about it.

What's your quest? Who's your answer? Put it out there and see what happens.

You know that I could use somebody
Someone like you
--Kings of Leon, Use Somebody

Job-->Truck-->Canoe-->Prince Charming??

I bought a canoe on Saturday morning. I was going garage sale-ing with my mom, figuring I might pick up some Tupperware or something, and I ended up with a canoe (and some lovely pieces of Tupperware too, actually). We were on our way to Amara's sale but stopped at a house on my parents' street. The house turned out to be the home of the family who lost their little dog, Sam, that my mom and sister rescued from the cold two years ago.

Sitting on the grass of the front lawn was a green, fiberglass canoe. My mom asked the guy how much he wanted for it.

"100 bucks," he said.

"Really? Wow," she said. I couldn't actually tell by her reaction if my mom thought this was a bargain or incredibly over priced. I went in for a closer look.

"I've been wanting a canoe for a long time," I said to her.

"I know, and it's such a good price," she said.

I thought this over for a bit. Since graduating from school I've had a simple set of goals for myself: Job-->Truck-->Man-->Canoe. I am normally very adamant about not letting being single get in the road of living my life, but honestly, a canoe is a heavy and awkward thing to carry and load by myself. It's really better with two people. And, canoeing is something special to me that I'd really like to share with someone special. Still, a nice, fibreglass canoe, in the good condition it was in, for only $100? How could I pass that up?

Between the two of us, Mom and I had $50. We gave that to the guy as a deposit and told him we'd be back later with the rest and to pick up the mighty green vessel. Then we headed on to Amara's.

I chatted with Amara a bit in the driveway. Christian, Amara's husband, was carrying the baby.

"Here Jill, you take this," Christian said as he handed off his sweet little baby boy so he could attend to something.

I suddenly had a small, make that very small, child in my arms. I don't even remember the last time I held a baby. I had no idea if I was doing it right. I can't imagine it looked very natural. But the baby kept on smiling anyway so I must've been doing something right. My mom certainly enjoyed the moment. I only just realized now that I was holding for the first time my very special miracle, the one that got me my new job and my window seat cubicle. He is my special reminder of how the seemingly impossible can come together for me if I can just hold on for things to fall into place. He's also incredibly cute and surprisingly light.

About an hour later we were back at the sale where my canoe was on layaway. I had visited the bank and had the rest of my payment ready to fork over. I looked at my new purchase with delight. All I could think of was how buff and tanned my arms were going to get this summer from paddling. Oh how wonderful, how perfect that Fate had presented me with this bargain.

The reality check quickly followed. The canoe is awkward to fit in my truck. It is too heavy for me to manage by myself. I don't have a place to store it at my house. I could have spent the $100 on new clothes that actually fit the new, smaller me, and that might even have a role in attracting the attention of Mr. Prince Charming.

With the help of my mom, we got the canoe back to my parents' place and unloaded it onto their front lawn. I decided to try picking it up by the thwarts. I managed to lift it to my thighs and hold it there for about five seconds. Oh yeah, I am going to get buff arms this summer alright, but at this rate, the canoe will never actually see water.

In the end, I found a place I can store the canoe and my dad is working on a rack I can use in Truck to transport it. He's also got someone thinking up some kind of collapsible dolly rig so I can wheel the canoe to the river or lake on my own.

That all aside, I still consider it an investment piece, like buying a pair of shoes before the outfit. As for you, Mr. Prince Charming Dude, I figure you're out there slaying your dragons or trying to climb Rapunzel's ridiculous hair extensions. So while you're off doing that, I'll be here, doing my thing, singing my songs, eating my ice cream. I know one day we will finally meet and then we can have a good laugh about this day when I changed my life plan because I just couldn't wait around for you any more. You know you find my impatience and hopeless romantic ideals endearing.

Sound bites

Tonight I went searching for an old post to reference and I came across a post where I made this very smart and sassy comment:

I have learned that when I get anxious about a guy and all caught up in the games, I just need to ask myself one question: is this guy's name George Stroumboulopoulos? If the answer is no, (as it has been traditionally, so far) then I say, "well don't spend another minute thinking about him. Go out and enjoy the sunshine". Because really, only George, who has his own talk show, radio show, and thousand of fans, can legitimately say he sometimes doesn't have the time to politely acknowledge my IM or let me know that he's very sorry he can't meet me for coffee this week, or this lifetime...

--Sing Gal

Wow, I love that girl. I don't know where it was coming from, but I had an edge and some attitude. Okay, I do know where that edge was coming from, it was a silly boy giving me grief again. Ah, boy drama.

This is now going to be a completely self-indulgent, self-referencing post. Here are some smart or just plain ironic/interesting things I said here once (not entirely in chronological order):

I'm wondering if there is a way I can attract a guy I would initially hate but then, after getting loaded on tequila, would grow to love. What would the anti-Jill look like?I am an optimist who sees the good in everyone. He would be a cynic who trusts no one. I'm a little bit rock n' roll. He would be country, or worse, folk. I have a good paying, sensible, steady, corporate job. He would be living pay cheque to pay cheque doing work I probably don't want to know about. Bah, I don't care. Just make him look like James Marsden and I'll make it work.

--I hate you. You're perfect

I closed my eyes and thought of all the people who had thought of me that day, and all the the people who had me wondering if I might have crossed their minds. I did not make any wishes to the close and holy darkness but instead rested on the peace that came from knowing that the important people, the good people, will always come back and remember you.

--I will remember you

I don't think I was lied to. I think I believed there was more to it all and then eventually I saw things for what they really were. And no, I'm not just talking about some dumb guy. The point is, I can do better, and sticking around with something, someone, some place that breaks my spirit does nobody any favours. Still, a part of me keeps hoping things will suddenly change. That never works.

Be the change you want to see in the world--Mahatma Gandhi

--Shuffle repeat

You know what I like about living on my own? That I do things like spontaneously decide to go walk for ice cream in sub-zero temperatures and nobody will stop and ask me why or call me ridiculous.

--I'll stop the world and melt with you

Oh to be young again. I did not know 26 qualified for any kind of wisdom or wistfulness.

--But now I have my own basil

[after quoting the lyrics to Bryan Adams' (Everything I do) I do it for you]

That's love. That's what's worth waiting for. That is what every lousy date and heartbreak is worth enduring for. That's what I want, and I will settle for no less. I would walk down the aisle to that song, I'd make those lyrics my vows. It's Cheeze Whiz, but I like it.

--Cheese Whiz adds personality

Being a sucker for ice cream and clever marketing, I had to order a Broken Heart parfait. I went up to the counter and said, "I'd like a Broken Heart, please." The girl replied, "a small or large?" I went for the big broken heart. Lisa was kind enough to help me out with it, because that's what best friends do.

--Zipity do da! Part II

A while ago I had a dream of moving west and getting a job with The Agency out there. Mostly when I think of moving it's to escape something though, which doesn't seem like a good reason to do something. As the conversation continued I realised that I'm much more of a "one day at a time, see what comes about" kind of girl, but he [New York Friend] is a "make a plan to do everything you possibly can and go out to create your own destiny" kind of guy. Until that night I never truly appreciated how our backgrounds, philosophies and perspectives are so different. All I could think was, how did we ever end up sitting at the same table again?

After the late dinner we headed out into the night and made our way home. I could feel new wounds opening up where the straps of my shoes rubbed into my ankles. It seemed that I would be leaving Manhattan with many different scars. It hurt. A lot.

--The Only Living Boy in New York -- Simon and Garfunkel

Whether it is buying a house by myself or maintaining a relationship for 61 days (because every day counts, for me), some how these things have a way of working out. But like I've said before, in the back of my mind where that bit of fear lives on, I'm always on the lookout for that bus to hit me the moment I've found happiness.

--Fear and loathing it

it's Friday night and I am going to go lay half-naked on some stranger's table so they can rub me down. I want to feel presentable.

--Debriefing

I sat down. How did he get my number? Oh right, Facebook. He had sent me a message earlier saying maybe we could meet for coffee after all and left his number. He said he didn't get to check if I had responded. He had me. He had me on the phone in front of a B movie with a glass of red wine. I couldn't lie, I couldn't even manage an evasive and diplomatic response other than, "yeah, I got your message". Never mind that he made me cry. Never mind that up until a few days ago he was "in a relationship" with the girl he picked over me two months ago.

--There's a genie in my wine bottle

No more pity dates. I trust myself now. My intuition is pretty good. I should start listening to it. The tarot card lady told me that, but who needs a so-called spirit guide to tell you that only you truly know yourself best.

--The last chapter, I promise

"I think we always need someone nice," Lisa replied. She is much too smart to fall for the emotionally retarded jerks I seem to have a special attraction to.

--The girl who's never had a valentine

Because of my life experiences, I choose to live one day at a time. I do my best not to take for granted a person or situation in my life because I know that at any moment life can happen and things can change. I cannot say for certain who or where I will be next week, never mind in the next few years. So at this moment, I am not looking for a man to marry or even share my house with (seriously, that sounds like a really freaky thing right now) But I'd be pretty happy with a guy who can just tell me he'll be there tomorrow.

--The girl who's never had a valentine

Y'know what? I'm pretty smart and I am going to be just fine. I am exactly where I am supposed to be at this moment. I just have to learn to settle down some times and remember that. I'm proud of my journey so far, my story. I've done well.

An Urban story

Today I bought a single ticket to see Keith Urban in concert on September 27. I think I have heard two of his songs, neither of which I can actually name. I wouldn't call myself a fan of country music, I don't even have a country music station programmed into any of my stereos. The ticket was only 20 bucks (25 when you add all the fees and taxes) but I'll be in the upper deck.

Why Jill? Why?

Truth is, I wasn't entirely sure I was going to be able to get a ticket. They did a presale earlier in the week so I figured the limited number of cheap tickets would actually be gone. I had no intention of buying a $70 or above priced seat. I noticed that he also had tickets on sale for a second show in Saskatoon and there were $20 tickets left for that one. My backup plan was going to be to buy a ticket to that show and take my very first solo road trip.

A nine-hour solo road trip in late September to the bustling metropolis of Saskatoon, SK to see a concert for a guy you can't even call yourself a fan of, who performs music of a genre you never listen to? Tell me this adventure is in the name of a very hot, very rich man you have recently discovered.

I suppose Keith is kind of attractive. He's married though (yup, just my type, as Adam would point out). Nope this is just me again doing the "I am an independent and fearless young woman who likes to try new things" thing. I mean, it's 20 bucks. If I have five minutes of fun I think I can call it successful. Lord knows it can't go any worse than the last time I went to a concert by myself. Truthfully, I think this "fiercely independent" bit has a lot more to do with fear than growth. It's a defense. But I'm not going to go into that right now.

I've heard stories before about people who get organ transplants and suddenly find that their tastes have changed. Like, suddenly they love red peppers when prior to the operation they didn't like them at all. Or there's the people who come out of comas and their personalities change. I eat Rice Crispies now. I used to hate Rice Crispies. I didn't even really care much for cereal period. And what's with this country music thing that has now come about? I'm still the same person at the core, but something is different. Maybe aliens abducted me and gave me a new spleen. Yeah, that's it, new spleen. Explains everything.

Grateful is not dead

My gratefulness woke up with me this morning after the best sleep I've had in a long while. I called my dad to tell him my day was already starting better than yesterday. He told me this week that he'd been missing my morning phone calls, especially the ones where I'm also running for the bus.

I talked with him as I walked up to the bus stop. My bus was a mere moment away; I had perfect timing.

"Morning Jill," Dave, the driver greeted me. They say there is no sound as sweet as hearing your own name. I will admit, this is true for me. I knew that it was Gus from the Bus who had prompted Dave with my name. Annoying as Gus can be some days, that was a nice thing for him to do.

"Good morning Dave," I replied.

"Oooh, good one!" I think he was surprised I knew his name. I was happy to return the sweet greeting.

It's Thursday, which means that I have my Yoga Booty Ballet class at lunch. I love this class. It was my third time attending and either she gave us an easier workout or I am actually improving because I felt really good today. My favourite move is in the ballet section where we do a slow demi plie. You stand with your heels together in first position and as you bend your knees, you lean to the side and extend your arms in a vertical line. I love this move because it makes me feel beautiful. The movement is slow, controlled and full of grace. I think I should start doing it first thing every morning when I get out of bed just to stir that feeling of beauty inside my heart.

Also because it's Thursday, I went to Lisa's for dinner. She made these amazing feta, ricotta and tomato mini pizzas and we watched TV. I sat in my usual chair with my feet tucked up and the soft blanket draped over my lap. I laughed. I felt warm, relaxed and beautiful.

On the way home I spotted an SUV one lane over with a licence plate that read, "KARMA". I lost it at the lights and then caught up to it again and eventually found myself right behind KARMA. I got to follow its lead down Portage Avenue for a while. Where are you going KARMA? Can I come too? KARMA turned off a few blocks before my street. It's nice to know that I not only found it, but KARMA also lives in my neighbourhood. I hope to see it again soon.

Each night now before I go to sleep I remind myself that I am exactly where I am supposed to be and I have everything that I need at this very moment. I realize that I cannot argue against those statements. Not even a little bit.

I am filled with happiness tonight and I am grateful.

Choose your own adventure

On Friday after work a group of us headed to Carlos and Murphy's for drinks and food. It was a great time. I laughed a lot. We talked about books, jobs, run ins with celebrities. Nigel accused me of having a sex change. I think that's the weirdest thing anyone's ever said to me.

I honestly don't remember how it came up, but Kathleen, who I went to college with, said to me, "You should contact Duane!"

"Duane?"

"Yeah, Duane W. He's in Vancouver now." She was referring to a guy in our class but it was so weird that she brought him up. I remember that I didn't realize how interesting of a guy he was until near the end of school. He seemed like a sweet guy and a very talented videographer. I have a picture of us from grad night. We even matched.

"What made you bring him up?" I asked Kathleen.

"I don't know, " she said. "I just think you guys would look cute together."

I think he has a girlfriend and make a mental note to confirm via Facebook.

"That's funny, Vancouver just seems to keep calling my name," I said. It has been, really, for about five years now. It's weird that way. As I was reflecting on this, the whole table jumped onto a "Move Jill to Vancouver" bandwagon. Apparently there's someone out there that a few of the people at the table know and they think with a well-written email I could get myself a job pretty easily. I am wary of things that seem easy.

There is a part of me that secretly wishes I could just pick up and move away for a while. I mean, what have I done with my life so far? Went to school, got a job and bought a house. I know for some people that's a pretty big deal. But I like to think I'm capable of a little more. Look at the company I keep: Lisa spent a year touring Canada with a praise and worship band and is now working on her master's degree. Vince moved away to Toronto to go to school, get his PhD and has interned with Google and Microsoft. Adam went to Africa and now is going to study Journalism in New York. I need an adventure. I need a cliff to jump off of (figuratively, well, at least for now). It's the perfect time for me to do this. I have my house and my family here, but that's about it keeping me. Next year I'll be looking for another job anyway.

On Saturday I was telling my mom about all this.

"There's a part of me that would really like to move away. Even just for a year," I said. "The only thing keeping me here is my family and my house."

"Well Jill, you know, family is kind of portable. With so many ways to stay in touch now it's a lot easier. And besides, dad will be retired next year. We'd take the motor home out there and visit you." She was sounding excited for me about this idea.

"I guess I could look into renting my house out." For some reason the idea of saying goodbye completely to my house bothers me. I guess it's because it's the last thing I really worked hard to get. Letting it go so easily just doesn't feel right.

I looked over at Elmo, sleeping on the floor. Oh how I love that dog.

"Well when I move to Vancouver, I will definitely need to get a dog," I said.

When I move to Vancouver. I was trying out the sound of those words, like a pair of shoes I really wanted but wasn't sure I could afford. But I deserve something like this. I'm worth the chance, worth the adventure, worth the risk and the sacrifice. And hey, new girls in town are always a hit with the guys. Especially cute, prairie girl blondes.

Later, I was out with Lisa for post-birthday celebrations. Over dessert and slushy, boozy drinks I told her about my Vancouver idea.

"I'd miss you," she said.

I was surprised, as we talked more I didn't get the impression that she thought this was a good idea. Maybe she didn't think I was doing it for the right reasons. Sure, maybe some of my reasons aren't exactly right ones, but there are at least some good ones. Earlier in the week she said to me that she's realizing, after running her very first half marathon, that people are capable of doing much more than they probably think they can.

"We put a lot of limitations on ourselves," she said again to me on Saturday night.

The thing is, moving away from the home I've known my whole life does scare the pants off me, but that kind of seems like a good reason to do it. In the last several months I've been trying to do things that either scare me, or that I haven't done because I didn't think I could do them alone, or that people didn't believe I could do. The last one really puts fire in my belly to do something. I have this idea in my head that people underestimate me. Every time I get that feeling from someone I just want to give them a cool stare and say those famous words, "watch me." One of these days I hope I grow out of this phase of feeling that I need to prove myself. Then again, it sure does earn me some interesting experiences.

I have a few months yet before I really need to think seriously about what I want to do with myself next year. For now, this idea is just one of several that I will keep in the back of my head. They say that life happens when you're busy making other plans. Let's see how that theory works.

Things that make me friggin' happy

I'm so ranty these days. Time for a change. Things that make me friggin' happy:

The Delilah radio show
I love all the sappy call-ins. From, "my husband is the greatest man in the world, please play us a song," to, "I didn't appreciate her when I had her, and now she's married in another state but I still love her, can you please play some Lionel Richie for me?" I love the stories. I listened to her today while washing dishes. Talk about a soap opera.

Irene
She's covering my old job while I'm working on Amara's job. I was kinda down this morning and in walked Irene, soaking wet from the rain storm but still able to laugh at herself. She reminds me of me when I'm not in a funk about something. They could not have picked a more perfect fitting replacement for me. She's been good lately about reminding me to keep laughing.

Text messages
I miss these. Today, instead of wishing that one would magically appear, I sent one to my sister. "Beep! I love you" it said. To get love, you gotta give love.

The rain beating on my window while I am warm in my bed
This makes me happy when it happens on a Friday or Saturday night and I can get up and watch the storm. It's less mood inducing when it's 2am and it causes the power to go out and I have to get up out of my warm bed and reset my alarm which needs to go off in four hours.

Dogs
Whenever I'm out walking in the park, I tend to smile at the dog first and then look up at the owner, who is half the time friendly looking and half the time looking like the one who should be on a leash. Last night my mom and I visited Petland and watched the puppies play. I'm getting to that point again where I am seriously considering adding a dog to my life.

Good customer service
I had to call the bank today about an issue I had with an online payment. I spoke to a woman named Rachel. She was professional and helpful. Oh, I also talked to a guy yesterday about my house insurance. Again, professional, helpful, and good about answering all the questions I had.

Rubber boots

I wore my yellow rubber boots today.

"I like your rubber boots!" Dave, the Newfie bus driver said to me this morning as I got on. "Remind me of the ones back home."

I love my yellow rubber boots. I had a pair once before but they met their tragic and untimely demise years ago in a fire. (My grandma borrowed them to use in a fall display at the church. Hay bales and candles were involved. I don't like to talk about it, really.) I just found them this spring at Old Navy for $15. It was a magical happy day.

I missed going to yoga on Tuesday at lunch because I forgot my yoga attire at home. So I decided I would go to the Wednesday class after work. The class started at four so I killed a bit of time at my desk before heading from the fifth floor to the basement of the other building. Almost at the fitness centre, I realized I had forgotten my swipe card. So all the way over to the other building and back up to the fifth floor I went. With card and attire in hand, I marched up to the bulletin board to sign up for class before changing. I crossed my fingers that the class wasn't full already.

CLASS CANCELLED

So I went all the way over..., well, you know the route now, back to my desk. I phoned my mom to tell her the story.

"Maybe you just weren't supposed to exercise this week," she said.

This made me laugh. Not meant to do yoga? Isn't the whole premise of yoga the fact that you have been drawn to it by some kind of fate so you can meditate and open yourself up to more fate? But hey, who am I to argue with Buddha? That happy little round soul, who could argue with him?

So I pulled on the yellow rubber boots and headed out into the saturated world to get, well, saturated myself. I came home grumbling, wondering why I didn't look harder for a rich man at the wine festival last weekend to throw myself at so that I could ensure my future rainy days would at least end with a fireplace in a cozy room in a very large home on Wellington Crescent. Love shmove. I'm going for money. I can always have hot and passionate extra-marital affairs. Hey, as it is, only the married dudes ever hit on me. Whoa, did I just order a round at Pete's Pity Bar? It must be happy hour.

For no particular reason at all, I would like to take this space to remind you that this is just my blog. I come here to 1) practice my writing and 2) have a conversation with my friends who come here because they care about me and care to know what I'm up to. If you think that by simply reading this blog you have some kind of insight into who I am, you are blissfully off the mark. Anything I write here is a mere snapshot of my thoughts at the particular moment I typed them. You have no idea the journey those thoughts took or the filters of experience they passed through before they ended up in a post. You have no idea the context they came from. Don't try to read between the lines. They are never meant to be taken that seriously.

On top of all that, once I hit "Publish Post" my thoughts on something may completely change. That's called "being human". I am a mere 27-year-old female. I am realizing now more than ever before that what I know is nothing compared to what I will learn, and what I will learn is nothing compared to what I will never know. If you try to get some sense of who I am by pouring over my posts, you will get nothing but a large headache. I will contradict and argue against myself from post to post. I will be evasive with the truth so as to protect myself from getting hurt. I will choose a point of view that suits the purpose of the story best.

Every once in a while I am reminded that people come here and they think that they are getting inside my head. They think they can use my words as proof that they are better than I am, that they are smarter, more experienced, more perfect. To those I say, I'm just a human. And I'm still a pretty young one at that. I'm on this spinning Earth ride just like you and everyone else, trying to make sense of it so I can give myself a reason to get out of bed in the morning. But if you want to use my thoughts to make yourself feel superior, go right ahead. I don't think you need me to also tell you how ridiculous that is.

And for some reason now, I feel that I want to say something about my thoughts on intimacy. I think the ultimate goal of love (whether it is truly attainable or not) is for two souls to be able to stand naked in front of each other, warts, baggage, issues and all, and still make the choice to love each other. By building up to that ultimate level of trust, two people can start to shed their defenses and reveal their true selves.

Defensive attitude aside and heart in hand, If you really do care to know more about me, give me a reason to trust you and I'll let you in. Yeah, I've been hurt a lot before, I've got trust issues.

You can’t love a crowd the same way you can love a person.
And a crowd can’t love you the way a single person can love you.
Intimacy doesn’t scale. Not really. Intimacy is a one-on-one phenomenon.
--Hugh Macleod, How To Be Creative: 26. Write from the heart., 08-22-04

Electronic communication is an instantaneous and illusory contact that creates a sense of intimacy without the emotional investment that leads to close friendships.

Clifford Stoll, Silicon Snake Oil, 1995

I want to be an everyday hero

I gave my mom a card on Mother's Day that said:

Momism #7
When life gives you lemons, you make lemon drops

(It had a picture of a lemon drop martini on the front.)

I have never turned to my mom as a confidant so much as I have in the last two months. I am incredibly thankful to have her there to listen to me and to comfort me. She has taught me so much. One of the things she's instilled in me early on is that life is what you make it. You can choose to be a victim of your lot in life or you can be a hero and find the opportunities even in the losses.

I've really gotten to know myself better in the past four months or so. I've seen my insecurities and fears and I've seen my strengths. I feel that acknowledging these things has made me stronger.

I've always had a hard time being around people who play the victim role too much. I find that these people complain a lot about the hand that life dealt them, but they don't do anything to try to change things. Instead, they look for people who will feed them a pablum of sympathy. They look for people who will essentially endorse the choices they are making by patting them on the head and saying, "poor you, it's not your fault. Life is so rough. I just don't understand why this always happens to you." Even though they seem to be miserable, these people don't change a thing. They just keep on doing the same thing and keep on asking for sympathy for something they are choosing (yes, there is always a choice). As Dr. Phil would say, I want to ask them, "how is that workin' for ya?"

I believe that you choose your life. Yes, sometimes it throws you a loss, but instead of stewing in self pity and surrounding myself with sympathizers, I take the losses as a chance for change. When I lost a job, I learned new skills while looking for the next one. When I was no longer happy with my job, I set out to find a new one. When I was tired of an activity I was doing, I stopped doing it.

I know it's easy to throw a pity party. I've thrown a few myself. Find yourself in a bad situation. Complain about it and wait for your sympathizers, the people who love and care about you, to show up. Some will sit with you for hours as you cry your eyes out about how life is so unfair. Hey, they may even join in with their own grievances. Isn't it so nice to have these people here with you who understand your pain? What you'll probably hardly notice though is the people who show up at your party but then leave early. Why do they leave early? Why can't they listen to you and support you? They're checking out because they've got another, much more interesting party to attend. It's the Great Opportunity Gala. It's the place where people are celebrating because they left their crummy job and started their own business, because they were diagnosed with cancer but rebuilt their relationship with a family member, because they were left at the altar but took the next year to travel Europe.

I want to be a guest at the Gala. I want to be in a place where people say, "wow Jill, that sounds awful, but look at you, you've done great since then. Way to go." I want to know other people I can say that to. I kind of think I will go there and one day find love.

I know I can't find love at a pity party. Not with the regulars, at least. I believe there is a difference between asking for sympathy at a pity party and asking for support at the Great Opportunity Gala. Asking someone to be sympathetic to your plight is asking for her to be sad with you. It's exhausting to be sad with someone on a regular basis. Asking someone for his support is admitting that you are going through something hard, but that you are working on changing that into something positive and you just need a bit of help to get there. You might need encouragement, compassion, understanding, patience, or maybe you just need cash! I can give support. I can rally behind a good cause and join the fight to something better. I cannot endlessly give sympathy though to someone who has no interest in finding opportunity. I cannot love that.

If you find yourself at a pity party, if you find that you are a regular host of one, I want you to know that life doesn't have to be like that. Life doesn't have to be about sucking on a lemon all the time. You probably have at least some great things going on in your life. How did you get them?

If you are a regular at a pity party and you'd like to get out, I'd be happy to take your hand and invite you to the Gala. I am sure I could show you a good time. But, if at the end of the night you want to go back to your old party, I'm going to have to decline. I've been a guest there before and I don't want to go back there for any length of time. I know what it does to me. I become an ugly person at those things and you won't want me around for very long. In fact, you'll probably get mad at or frustrated with me because I just won't play along. I can't be there for you while you choose destruction over positive change. It will break my heart, but if that's what you choose, I will choose to accept and walk away. I know you don't want me to ask you to change, even if I am asking you to do it for yourself.

I found this article on Playing the Victim. Take a read and see if you recognize what the author describes either in someone you care about or in yourself.

So when you feel like hope is gone
look inside you and be strong
and you'll finally see the truth
that a hero lies in you.
--Mariah Carey, Hero

Ooh! I just noticed that today is 12-05-09. If you flip the month and the date it's December 5, 2009, my 28th birthday! Today suddenly seems luckier some how.

wine and cheese

My sister and I got together after she was done work tonight. Our first plan was to head to Smitty's for cheap wings night, but when we got there, the place was full. I suspect it may have had something to do with hockey playoffs. We were both starving hungry and hardly able to process a single thought anymore, but we eventually agreed on Greek food on Corydon.

I got the chicken pita with fries. We decided to split a half litre of house white. When our plates arrived I looked at mine and said, "Mmm, these look like they'll be really good fries." Then I reached for the ketchup and knocked my glass of Piat D'or over, spilling cheap white wine right onto my platter.

"Oh Jillian," I said shaking my head and laughing. "And you wonder why you're single."

"You just have to find someone who finds your faults endearing," my sister smiled.

She told me tonight that she and her boyfriend celebrated six months of dating this past Monday. I had no idea they had been together for that long now. They've known each other for four years and have broken up and reunited on several occasions. I remember the first time he broke her heart. I heard her crying in her room and it absolutely killed me to know that someone could hurt her like that. Things seem much stronger this time.

I only met him for the first time this year at Easter dinner. It wasn't an easy weekend for me but seeing them together was really inspiring. I could see the love like a big golden aura around them and it made me happy.

I do love the stories about couples who have overcome major conflicts and breakups. I know it doesn't work for everyone, some people really aren't meant to be together and they reunite for all the wrong reasons. Some people just seem to need to spend some time apart growing up and figuring out what they really want. I can only imagine it takes a very powerful and undeniable love, and maybe a bit of luck or fate to bring these people back together, along with a good deal of compassion and forgiveness. I guess what appeals to me most about the breakup and reunion stories is the forgiveness component. I know it's not easy to put aside one's pain and pride, but love seems like the best reason to do it. Well, that and world peace. But really, couldn't we get a little closer to world peace if everyone could just find someone to love? Geeze, I'm such a hippie. Must be the cheap white wine talking.

My sister and I got along fairly well growing up, but we certainly had our differences. I feel that as the older sister I was forced to play the understanding and forgiving card more often than she did, but if that made me a more forgiving person in the end I can't complain. I feel like we grew up as sisters, but now we're more like friends. I choose to love her now.

Love is a choice. I've read that a few times since starting my studies in love. Love is not a warm and fuzzy feeling--that's probably just lust or affection. Love is something you choose to do. It's constantly choosing to be forgiving, understanding, patient, caring, compassionate. What drives someone to make that choice day after day? I have no idea. Maybe I will figure that one out in my next chapter.

"the true definition of love is: giving someone what they need the most when they deserve it the least."
www.loveisachoice.org

Horoscope for Thursday, May 7, 2009

"Your kind, thoughtful, and empathetic ways have earned you many friends. Allow yourself the odd, emotional outpouring instead of leaving it all bottled up. Your friends can handle it."

Really? Do you really want to hear about it? Or have I done enough emotional outpouring for one month?

I don't love you anymore

I'm free!

I really didn't want to go to pilates tonight. I considered ducking out early, but I made myself endure every last minute and I survived. Tonight was my last class. After four years with the same instructor, I broke up with Pilates tonight. I waited until I had finished up my set of pre-paid classes and then I told my instructor not to put me on the schedule anymore.

The classes, although a good workout, were taxing on my budget (at $15 a pop, payable only in 10 class packages). And, I just wasn't enjoying them anymore. I used to go there and feel strong and beautiful. Lately the class has just made me feel frustrated and grumpy. In fact, I'd be grumpy all day leading up to the class just thinking about going.

Could the relationship have been saved? Maybe. The cost was a big factor. Perhaps if the instructor had done more requests for feedback about what I enjoyed, what I didn't enjoy and what my goals were, I would have felt more like staying. Once again, open communication is a key factor in the success of any relationship.

Will I miss it? Right now I can't imagine missing it, but maybe in time I will. Maybe in the fall I will find myself wanting to try it again. Right now I just need time away from Pilates. I know I won't be missed terribly. There are many people eager to take my spot in the schedule.

Instead of Pilates on Wednesday nights I think I will try going to the gym after work for some cardio and weights work. I never used to think I could be disciplined enough to go on my own, but I'm finding lately I'm doing better at keeping my commitments to exercise.

I would recommend Pilates to anyone looking to build both flexibility and strength. It's a great workout for people with back problems. I hold nothing against the exercise or the instructor. I just realize that it's time for me to do something different.

Is there anything you're doing in your life that you don't really enjoy? Why are you doing it? What holds you back from change? Who is suffering or losing out on a chance because you're not giving it up? Life is too short to spend being unhappily tied to something (or someone). Let go and feel the difference.

I'm on Twitter. Now what?

jilly_bee is now on twitter. Please validate me and start following.

In a league of my own

I always look forward to the fifth of the month. I claim it is my lucky day. Today, being the fifth day of the fifth month, I was hoping for something extra special. It didn't rain men, money or shoes today but it wasn't too bad.

Irene picked me up and took me to Joeys for drinks. I told my mom I was going and that I planned to look fabulous. "What is there left to do, Jill, you are already there!" she told me. So many times a family member has said something sweet like that I would just brush it off. Of course they would say that, they have to, they're my family. Today I took the compliment at its full face value.

I put on my new pants and a cute top. I wore one of my favourite pairs of shoes. I did feel fabulous. As we walked in, I caught the eye of a cute guy, looked away, and looked back to find him still holding my gaze. Huh. I didn't know I could do that.

Later, I spot a guy I know from school. He's a server and apparently working tonight. I wave and he comes over to chat.

"What about that guy?" Irene asks after he leaves.

"Him? Naw, I've known him for years, he's always been friendly, but I think he has a girlfriend. And besides, I think he's out of my league."

"What? Out of your league? What are you talking about?"

I realize how awful that phrase sounds and I want to take it back. Who am I to say that to myself? Who makes these leagues anyway? Isn't it stupid? If you think you're beat, you've already lost. If you think you don't deserve to be there, you probably don't.

"Do you have his email? You should find an excuse to drop him a line," Irene tells me.

I shrug. In yoga today we focused on the idea of letting go of control and letting Fate take her course. I liked this idea. I am forever trying to take control of things, drive them in a new direction. I think it's time I sit back and wait for opportunity to come to me. The fighter in me is uneasy about this. She likes to see opportunity in everything and jump on it. However, I have learned that whenever I have lost something that causes me great grief, a much better fitting opportunity comes along quite quickly. Lately it's been about a one month turnaround time. Not that I'm looking at the calendar or anything. Patience and Fate and all that. Well here I am Fate. Sock it to me. I'm interested to see what you've got planned for me next.

Patience for gifted learners

I take a seat by the window and make myself comfortable. I'm not the first to arrive. Some, I'm sure, have been here a long while. They are the ones who look like they haven't seen sleep in days. I trace my fingers over the carved out initials in the desk--evidence of the poor soul sitting here in agony before me. I stare out the window at the sky, the clouds, the traffic, the trees waving in the wind. There is chatter around me. There is anxious energy in the room, but not coming from me. Some are nervously sharpening an entire pack of pencils, lining up their erasers and white out. They think there's going to be a test today. Don't they know, this is the test?

A woman sits down and is greeted with a piece of paper, a banana, and pair of running shoes. She looks up bewildered and then around at everyone else. Some people are poised, ready to grab the items the moment the recipient lets her guard down. In the corner, someone is sobbing. "Where's my banana?" she asks. "When will my banana come?"

Some time passes before Patience walks up to me.

"You're awfully quiet today Jill."

"Mm hm," I nod maintaining my gaze out the window.

"No questions today? No concerns?"

"I have none today."

Patience perches on the edge of my desk and leans forward.

"Not wondering when you will see love again? Where your next job will be? When you will have all the answers?"

"I'm exactly where I am supposed to be," I say.

Patience stares at me for a minute.

"How long will you sit here?"

"I don't know," I reply. "Until this window opens I suppose, or until someone walks through that door and asks me to come along with them. Until my phone rings. I really don't know. For now, I am exactly where I am supposed to be."

Patience smiles. "You are doing well Jill. Please feel free to read or listen to music while you wait."

Strong, Smart and Accomplished

I went shopping on Sunday afternoon with my mom. She convinced me to go ahead and spend some money on some new clothes for my new, slightly smaller self.

I went into an old favourite store and grabbed all my regular sizes--medium tops, size 8 bottoms. In the change room I pulled on the pants and frowned. They seemed to fit in the waist, but the legs were unflatteringly baggy. I showed my mom.

"Maybe you should try a size down," she suggested.

"Yeah, but they seem to fit in the waist," I said.

She grabbed the waist band and pulled it away from me. There was definitely some room to spare there. I decided to humour her and try a size six. Well, the joke was on me because they actually fit. And the tops? I tried a few in size small and they fit too! I took another look in the mirror and said to myself, "Hello Gorgeous, nice to see you again."

Today I am sporting my new white capris and a blue and white horizontal stripped tee. I also brought out my red Wonder Woman shoes for an extra bounce in my step. Everyone at work was telling me how summery I look. I feel like summer. I feel great.

I spent some time on Sunday thinking about how far I've come in the past four months (and the past four weeks). I made a list of all my accomplishments.

1. Survived my old job, started a new job that I am doing well at
2. Found love, gave love, lost love and survived
3. Learned new and wonderful things about myself
4. Shrank myself (a size 6! Five if the material is stretchy and oohh how I love the number 5)
5. Joined the gym and tried two new classes
6. Started work on being more forgiving of myself
7. Stopped doing something I wasn't enjoying doing anymore (I finally bowed out from my work with the Red Shoe House)
8. Wrote some really good stuff. I realized lately more than ever just how important my writing is to me and how it's there for me to help me through my best and worst times. I write pretty much every day now as a way of checking in with myself, figuring out what's in my heart (because when you follow your heart, you find your dreams). It's my place to be honest with myself even when I think that my friends and family may not approve of what I'm thinking or feeling.
9. Dedicated myself to learning more about relationships and experiencing romance

Some people take a whole year to do all that stuff. I did it in four months with most of that being done in the past four weeks! FOUR! Can you tell how proud I am? How happy?

Forgiveness part II

The fortune in my fortune cookie the other day told me that all my hard work would soon pay off. I am finding myself wanting to walk up to Fortune, or perhaps knock on his office door and ask him if he could be a little more specific.

"Could you give me a date? A month perhaps? A season?"

"'Fraid not, my dear. This is something you have to work at at your own pace. When the work is done, the payoff will follow."

"Oh, sure. I understand." I nod eagerly. "Well, you know I've been working really really hard. I mean, super hard. Like, I have totally immersed myself in my studies. I've been doing a lot of reading and research on relationships, and some great writing. I think I'm really learning some good stuff here. And I've been really invested lately in my health, I mean, I am exercising regularly again and eating better. Oh! And I've been paying better attention to my um, mental health? I mean, I wasn't crazy or anything, but yeah, I had some things I needed to address, and I think I'm making some strides there. That one has been harder, y'know, because some of that stuff has been with me for years and years, but hey, it's never too late, right?"

"Mmm hmm. That is very good to hear, Miss B@rr0tt. You should be proud of those accomplishments."

"Well, yeah, I suppose. But I need a sign or something. Can you give me a mark? An indication some how of how close I am to payoff? 70 per cent? 85? I don't even know what a passing grade here is." I laugh at my attempt at humour, hoping it might get Fortune to crack a telling smile. but Fortune just keeps reading the papers on his desk, tapping his pen. I throw my hands up in the air.

"I don't even know what the payoff is! Can someone tell me that? What am I doing all this for anyway? What, so I can sit around and feel all proud that I've learned something? So I can look back on my past and see all the stupid mistakes I made? So what? It doesn't fix anything, it just makes the painful truths more obvious. I hate this being human thing. I hate being in this skin. I just want to write. I just want to write and go back and re-write and re-write until I have it right."

"You don't get the option of a redo, Miss B@rr0tt. Once you take a test, you've taken it. The consolation is, if you do not get what you want out of that test, there will always be another test for you when you are ready. The questions will be different but the same concepts will be tested."

I lean forward and slam my hands on his desk. "BUT I'M READY NOW!"

Fortune still doesn't look up. "Have you seen our course on patience, Miss B@rr0tt? I really think you could get something out of it."

I stand back up, lean against the door and stare up at the ceiling. "Oh trust me, I've been taking the remedial patience class for some time now. In fact, I've been doing detention there almost every day ever since I can remember." Fortune does not reply.

I sigh. "I know how this all works. I know, I know. And I always swore I wouldn't live my life with regrets, that I'd just learn my lessons and carry forward, but man, in the last few years, I think there've been some regrets hanging around that I can't let go of. Like suddenly I'm realizing I'm not a kid anymore and every shot I get at something I really have to be careful with because who knows when the next one will come around. When I was a kid, I always got the chance to say I was sorry. Things could always be patched up. People forgave me because I was a kid and I was still learning. The thing is, there are a lot of days when I still feel like a kid, like I have so much to figure out still. But now, things can't be fixed just with sorries. There are things I am so sorry for but the only forgiveness I can get is from myself. That's not entirely satisfying, to be honest."

Fortune finally looks up at me. "You have great insight."

I roll my eyes. "I have insight, heart, forgiveness, determination, love, but where's the payoff huh? Where's the payoff? Where's the chance? Where's the part where I get to use all this stuff? And where's the forgiveness and compassion for me?"

"Perhaps Patience could review these questions with you."

Fortune begins to gather the papers on his desk. His office hours are over for the day and I know I have other things to do besides dwell on all this stuff. I'm worn out. I know I'll be sitting with Patience again later today, going over our statements of optimism and learning how to best make use of my time. We'll look again at how things have always worked out for me in the end. She lets me cry, and sometimes, if I'm really upset, she sends me home to sit with Love for a while until I have the strength again.

There are people in my classes of all ages, but for the first time ever, I feel old. I feel like I should be further ahead by now. I feel like I've watched so many of my friends zip ahead of me without hardly studying at all it seems.

In these times of feeling defeated, I turn to my words. I pull out what ever writing utensil and blank canvas I have on hand and I write the same words over and over. I don't know who they are for, but they are the only words I can think of that give me some release and maybe a bit of hope.

I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I'm getting better every day.

I saved you a seat

When I was 12 I dreamed up an imaginary boyfriend. No, I did not make my parents save a seat for him at the dinner table or anything crazy like that. I just imagined what he would be like. If I went some place that seemed especially special, I'd imagine what it would be like to have him there too. Mostly, he would come about when I was staring up at the stars, sitting on a beach, or walking through a forest. I'd imagine the conversations we'd have, sharing our secrets, fears, dreams and then breaking every once in a while into a good laugh.


It's finally warm enough again to sit out on my front step. This is one of my favourite places to be. It's a place I'd want to sit with my special guy and have a conversation that starts with, "when I was a kid, I used to dream..." and ends with, "can you believe it's 3 am?"

Ah, romance.

Or, you know, more realistically, when I finally get to sit out on the front step with some guy, the most profound thing he's going to say is, "man, this beer is like, half empty when I look at it in the shade, but more like half full when I look at it in the setting sun."

Yeah, I plan on ending up with a tow-truck poet ;)

Spring in my step and a cramp in my calf

I'm so pleased with myself.

I exercised every day this week. My muscles were in dire protest by Thursday, but a little self-inflicted, physical pain was a nice change.

I had a doctor's appointment on Friday morning. I hadn't weighed myself in a good while and was pretty curious as to where I was at these days. I nearly fell off the scale when I saw a number that was about 20lbs less than the one I had in my head. So that's why the pants do not fit. I just figured they had stretched out in the wash. Time to buy some new and romantic ones.

I went out last night with friends and had a really good time. Sorry, I forgot my camera. I didn't have to pay for a single drink. Hey, my charm still works (Happy guys buying rounds for a table are a pretty easy mark though). It was too bad I was also a designated driver.

Plans for the rest of the weekend? Maybe some shopping. Maybe some park walking in a cute outfit. Maybe some ice cream. I have a whole spring weekend to treat myself to all I deserve. How romantic.