Wake up feeling a little off...Oh well, it'll pass...get ready to hit the gym...Where the HELL are my shoes?...okay I know I had them in my bag...ransack the shoe closet and then from the corner of my eye I see them sitting on mat by the door..."Who ever pulled that evil joke is really not funny." says inside voice.
Hit the gym...running on the treadmill..observe man next to me..."ewww...he is finished on the machine and not even wiping it down...hhmmppphhh...his mother obviously taught him NO manners."...Send him "the look"...he sort of runs away in fear...
Finish exercise..the whole time inside voice complains..."I really don't know why I have to do this crap..isn't a walk in the park enough? I mean , really...this sweating is far too icky."
Shower, change and now it is time to hit the subway and off to work...and this in itself is an adventure of epic proportions...100's of people cramming themselves in tin cans like a bunch of sardines...of course being short I get stuck under some 6'2 male armpit that smells like it hasn't been manscaped or even washed for that matter...inside voice..."Oh god why me????? " and I burst into uncontrollable tears to the point 3 people offer me their seat.
At work...meeting...looks at agenda but for some reason...can't really focus...inside voice: "Why are all the men in this meeting so stupid?...and OMG..What is up with that mismatched excuse for a suit that woman is wearing?"...hand reaches for sugar covered donut..."Pleeeassseeee...is this supposed to be a meeting or a party- do these people really have to say good morning to each other 50 times ?...let's go people!"
At lunch: finds myself very hungry ..inside voice..."I really should have something good...I did work out this morning and am surrounded by morons - so I really need to eat." Orders cheeseburger, fries, chocolate milkshake and an ice cream sundae...finds myself sprinkling potato chip crumbs on the sundae...I contemplate stealing the lollypop the kid next to me is eating....
On the way home...stop to pick up dry cleaning...man ahead of me is giving the poor clerk a hard time...I listen for a moment...become a bit inflamed by his rudeness...Imagine dry cleaning him and tossing him on an ironing board...Inside voice.."What a jerk...this poor clerk gets paid minimum wage and your complaining about a crease in your freaking pants...iron them yourself for God's Sake...don't you have any domestic skills whatsoever???"
Notice people looking around nervously...opps- that was supposed to be my inside voice...Man storms out with ill creased pants and shoots me a look...I give him my best ferral cat impersonation...
Finally get home...look at calendar for week's activities...rut row...no wonder inside voice is acting up...cancel remaining meetings for the week, check cupboards for essentials- yup- chocolate, potato chips, and ice cream...lock doors, pull blinds...wait out the storm...this too shall pass...My Mother didn't tell me PMS could be life threatening to others..I kinda figured that out on my own...
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Monday, 23 May 2011
My Mother Didn't Tell Me Some Domestic Skills Are Good
Long week of business travel....finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. One more business dinner, a sleep at the hotel and then a flight home...Been in three different time zones in a week...a little brain fuzz...but holding on for the final leg of the race...Business dinner time approaches...thank god it's a casual evening...
Toss on casual yet business like outfit and off I run...Into the restaurant I go ...strange- seems everyone is looking at me...hummmpphhh...new in town- and everyone knows I guess.
Dinner progresses...visit the ladies room...once again notice I seem to be drawing a lot of attention...Thinks wow...I must be looking hot...and smiles to self.
Conversation is great, food not bad at all, and the evening goes well...one more trip to the ladies room and once again feeling like a star on the walk of fame with all the attention....
Evening winds down...we get ready to leave...and as we are saying our goodbyes - waiting for the cabs my colleague says ....OMG you have a huge rip in the arse of your pants....places my hand on the arse of my pants to find indeed a rather large rip...and now it all comes together....hole in pants, thong underwear...huge amount of attention...My Mother didn't tell me some domestic skills like sewing could come in handy...instead I flashed everyone all evening...needless to say it was the icing on the cake of a very long week.
Toss on casual yet business like outfit and off I run...Into the restaurant I go ...strange- seems everyone is looking at me...hummmpphhh...new in town- and everyone knows I guess.
Dinner progresses...visit the ladies room...once again notice I seem to be drawing a lot of attention...Thinks wow...I must be looking hot...and smiles to self.
Conversation is great, food not bad at all, and the evening goes well...one more trip to the ladies room and once again feeling like a star on the walk of fame with all the attention....
Evening winds down...we get ready to leave...and as we are saying our goodbyes - waiting for the cabs my colleague says ....OMG you have a huge rip in the arse of your pants....places my hand on the arse of my pants to find indeed a rather large rip...and now it all comes together....hole in pants, thong underwear...huge amount of attention...My Mother didn't tell me some domestic skills like sewing could come in handy...instead I flashed everyone all evening...needless to say it was the icing on the cake of a very long week.
My Mother Didn't tell Me How Tiring Being an Adult Is....
The weather is beautiful...one of those days when the earth smells of spring, there is heat in the sun, and a soft breeze. I look at the "to-do" list that seems to have grown from a few items to dozens...and contemplate where to start.
I pour a cup of coffee and start with number one...get the bills paid. Number two is a little more time consuming...do the laundry...and number three...spring cleaning and pack away winter clothes...and along with all the to-dos...there's the scheduling for the week...what to cook for dinner, what needs to be done at work...and the attempt to schedule some free time with friends...when did life get so complicated?
This time of year used to be free-ing...the time when all the winter cold went away...and there were soccer games, hide and seek, playing outside until the street lights came on...the sounds and smells that made you skip hand in hand with your friends to the playground to ride the monstrous merry go round...shaking off the dreariness of long dark days. Everything is green again and the promise of summer is around the corner...laying on the grass making pictures with clouds, jumping in the puddles made by the spring rain...the freedom and innocence of childhood...
We give it up as we grow...forget the unabashed freedom we once had...confine ourselves to adulthood and find little time to rejoice in the small wonders of a day...the childish wonder that once came with seeing a butterfly, or a flower disappears...and we saddle ourselves with all the to-dos...all the complexities of relationships, and life..
My Mother didn't tell me how tiring being an adult is...instead she kept some of that wonder. So I took my to do list- tossed it aside and skipped to the park to ride the not so monstrous merry go round - and listen for a bit to the laughter of the kids playing, to breath in the air of spring ...and to remember.
Friday, 13 May 2011
My Mother Didn't Tell Me Just How Great Friends Are....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0put0_a--Ng (have a listen while you read)
One evening, in the not so distant past, I sat among my very close friends and just observed...listened as they chatted and laughed...talking about life, kids, new relationships, old relationships, a new restaurant, movie, theater production....playing hostess made it easy to excuse myself from the conversation and just sit back and enjoy the "noise"...and as I looked around the room...I thought "everyone has a story" - each of these people honoured me by including me in their life story....
Each of us admire the other for a particular reason...the friend who brings the logic , the friend who brings the fun, the friend who brings the intellect, the friend who brings the advice, the friend who brings the humanity....I found my emotional self touched- moved by the depth of connection...and know I am so very fortunate to have such a motley crew around.
By mere virtue of coming into each other's lives- we have become part of a shared adventure...I felt like the grinch- whose heart grew and grew....Some of us have cried together over life loss- a parent, a child, a sister, a brother...some of us had celebrated births, weddings, divorces...we support each other at our lowest points and celebrate the victories with sincere, heartfelt, unselfish joy....and yet at this moment when I needed to cry, play woe is me...and spill the contents of my newly scarred heart...I couldn't bare to ruin the frivolity, change the mood and change the laughter to serious discussion...
The evening wound down and there we were- just me and my very best friend. The friend who knows my best and worst, my bad hair days, my bad mood days, my crazy work days, my silly disco days...no secrets...the person with whom I am my most vulnerable...and trust with my whole being...The person I tell my happiest accomplishments, my deepest fears, my strengths , my weaknesses...who never judges me and I do the same for him ...We sat next to each other, he said his usual.. "hey pumpkin"...and we held on to a beautiful moment of unconditional love..the foundation of our friendship...he put his arm around me, I put my head on his shoulder as the tears made their way down my cheeks and we looked out over the city..."it'll be okay." he says...and we sat for hours...totally content just to be....
One evening, in the not so distant past, I sat among my very close friends and just observed...listened as they chatted and laughed...talking about life, kids, new relationships, old relationships, a new restaurant, movie, theater production....playing hostess made it easy to excuse myself from the conversation and just sit back and enjoy the "noise"...and as I looked around the room...I thought "everyone has a story" - each of these people honoured me by including me in their life story....
Each of us admire the other for a particular reason...the friend who brings the logic , the friend who brings the fun, the friend who brings the intellect, the friend who brings the advice, the friend who brings the humanity....I found my emotional self touched- moved by the depth of connection...and know I am so very fortunate to have such a motley crew around.
By mere virtue of coming into each other's lives- we have become part of a shared adventure...I felt like the grinch- whose heart grew and grew....Some of us have cried together over life loss- a parent, a child, a sister, a brother...some of us had celebrated births, weddings, divorces...we support each other at our lowest points and celebrate the victories with sincere, heartfelt, unselfish joy....and yet at this moment when I needed to cry, play woe is me...and spill the contents of my newly scarred heart...I couldn't bare to ruin the frivolity, change the mood and change the laughter to serious discussion...
The evening wound down and there we were- just me and my very best friend. The friend who knows my best and worst, my bad hair days, my bad mood days, my crazy work days, my silly disco days...no secrets...the person with whom I am my most vulnerable...and trust with my whole being...The person I tell my happiest accomplishments, my deepest fears, my strengths , my weaknesses...who never judges me and I do the same for him ...We sat next to each other, he said his usual.. "hey pumpkin"...and we held on to a beautiful moment of unconditional love..the foundation of our friendship...he put his arm around me, I put my head on his shoulder as the tears made their way down my cheeks and we looked out over the city..."it'll be okay." he says...and we sat for hours...totally content just to be....
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
My Mother Didn't tell Me Dancing on the Bar was a Bad Idea....
Set Scene: Good friends wedding...which happens to be on my own first wedding anniversary. Big gathering of friends and we are all in our very early 20's. Lots of champagne, good music...almost like a university reunion....
Conversation between my best friend and I...
BFF: OMG do you remember when we danced on the bar at graduation?
Me: mmhhmmm...in our stilettos
BFF: Yea, remember we had those great stir up pants, and the BEST hair
Me: Sighs, that was a good night
BFF: Those were the days
Me: We're not dead yet!
BFF: We're at the Four Seasons, not really appropriate
Me: Says Who?
BFF: Dare Ya
Me: Dare me twice
BFF: Double Dare Ya
Me: Done
Sounds of "I've been thinking about you..." Londonbeat playing loudly...lots of whooping and dancing...
Saunters over to bar...trying to look inconspicuous...hands bartender a $20...
Me: Move over Mr. Bar Keep...I've got some dancin' to do.....
Hops up on bar...friends cheer, start gathering around the bar chanting my name....woohoooo....hit slippery part of bar...feel myself falling....falling...prays- oh God do not let my dress end up around my neck....
Sounds of gasps....music stops...sounds of paramedics...wake up in hospital ...mild concussion and badly sprained ankle....Wonder- was this the foretelling of my divorce? Lesson learned...at some point dancing on the bar is really not a good idea......
Conversation between my best friend and I...
BFF: OMG do you remember when we danced on the bar at graduation?
Me: mmhhmmm...in our stilettos
BFF: Yea, remember we had those great stir up pants, and the BEST hair
Me: Sighs, that was a good night
BFF: Those were the days
Me: We're not dead yet!
BFF: We're at the Four Seasons, not really appropriate
Me: Says Who?
BFF: Dare Ya
Me: Dare me twice
BFF: Double Dare Ya
Me: Done
Sounds of "I've been thinking about you..." Londonbeat playing loudly...lots of whooping and dancing...
Saunters over to bar...trying to look inconspicuous...hands bartender a $20...
Me: Move over Mr. Bar Keep...I've got some dancin' to do.....
Hops up on bar...friends cheer, start gathering around the bar chanting my name....woohoooo....hit slippery part of bar...feel myself falling....falling...prays- oh God do not let my dress end up around my neck....
Sounds of gasps....music stops...sounds of paramedics...wake up in hospital ...mild concussion and badly sprained ankle....Wonder- was this the foretelling of my divorce? Lesson learned...at some point dancing on the bar is really not a good idea......
My Mother Didn't Tell Me Boys Had Cooties
When I was ten I started a new school...and for those that know me today to say I was shy shocks them...but I was. I was shy - so shy in fact, that my mother had to take me to my first day of school in grade nine (that's another story). Another thing about me- some call me dramatic in a negative way- others call me a "feeler"...I tend to think- at certain parts of my life I am the reincarnate of Jane Austin's romance heroines...either way...I have a penchant for feelings and emotions and I wear them quite proudly...now that I have prefaced the thing..I'll get on with the story...
The new school seemed okay and I made a few friends fairly quickly. Then I saw "him"....he was tall, chestnut hair, and intellectual looking coke bottle glasses....he stumbled across the playground at recess time pushing his glasses back up on his nose and carrying a Hardy Boys Mystery book. My heart skipped a beat...I love Nancy Drew!
That afternoon I rushed home and from the secret hiding spot (of which there were few) I took out my diary. It was white with pink flowers, a gold lock, and the pages were soft with gold edges....With the utmost care I wrote the date and my Shakespearean description of my Romeo. Each day that passed I wrote about him- what he had for lunch, what book I saw him reading, how many times he answered a question in class, and of course my undying love for his suave geekiness. This diligent note taking and profession of love continued into the winter, and spring....and then it happened....
I came home one day to find my diary missing...I searched all my hiding spots thinking I inadvertently placed my labour of love in the wrong spot....I was frantic...and then...I could hear the raging laughter...
I rushed outside and there on the picnic table in our backyard were my brothers with my white and pink romance novel in hand...reading passages aloud to each other and doubling over in fits of hysterical laughter...I rushed forward - the firey side of my personality in full flame...did the dance of "come and get it" with them until finally they gave in and tossed my diary to me...the monkey in the middle...
I sat on the grass and tore every page from my book. I ripped them all into tiny pieces...my face blazoned red with embarrassment, tears of rage rolling down my cheeks and my brothers teasing now continuing in mock dissertations of my painstakingly written soliloquies of love...
It was then I knew boys had cooties...they didn't have white diaries with pink flowers and gold gilted pages, they didn't write poems of love and hide them in their secret hiding spots...no...they had basketballs, and baseball gloves, and pushed each other here and there as a way to say hello...
The next day at school was uneventful- my mother had scolded and warned them so there was no tormenting...but I was changed. I observed my Romeo a little closer and saw that he wasn't my poetic dissertation- he was a boy- like all the other boys... running around after a ball, tossing a stick, .hmmm....but I decided he was still diary worthy...there was something a little different about him... And this lesson...has served me well over the years...Always remember some boys just have less cooties than others.....
The new school seemed okay and I made a few friends fairly quickly. Then I saw "him"....he was tall, chestnut hair, and intellectual looking coke bottle glasses....he stumbled across the playground at recess time pushing his glasses back up on his nose and carrying a Hardy Boys Mystery book. My heart skipped a beat...I love Nancy Drew!
That afternoon I rushed home and from the secret hiding spot (of which there were few) I took out my diary. It was white with pink flowers, a gold lock, and the pages were soft with gold edges....With the utmost care I wrote the date and my Shakespearean description of my Romeo. Each day that passed I wrote about him- what he had for lunch, what book I saw him reading, how many times he answered a question in class, and of course my undying love for his suave geekiness. This diligent note taking and profession of love continued into the winter, and spring....and then it happened....
I came home one day to find my diary missing...I searched all my hiding spots thinking I inadvertently placed my labour of love in the wrong spot....I was frantic...and then...I could hear the raging laughter...
I rushed outside and there on the picnic table in our backyard were my brothers with my white and pink romance novel in hand...reading passages aloud to each other and doubling over in fits of hysterical laughter...I rushed forward - the firey side of my personality in full flame...did the dance of "come and get it" with them until finally they gave in and tossed my diary to me...the monkey in the middle...
I sat on the grass and tore every page from my book. I ripped them all into tiny pieces...my face blazoned red with embarrassment, tears of rage rolling down my cheeks and my brothers teasing now continuing in mock dissertations of my painstakingly written soliloquies of love...
It was then I knew boys had cooties...they didn't have white diaries with pink flowers and gold gilted pages, they didn't write poems of love and hide them in their secret hiding spots...no...they had basketballs, and baseball gloves, and pushed each other here and there as a way to say hello...
The next day at school was uneventful- my mother had scolded and warned them so there was no tormenting...but I was changed. I observed my Romeo a little closer and saw that he wasn't my poetic dissertation- he was a boy- like all the other boys... running around after a ball, tossing a stick, .hmmm....but I decided he was still diary worthy...there was something a little different about him... And this lesson...has served me well over the years...Always remember some boys just have less cooties than others.....
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Welcome to Things My Mother Didn't Tell Me
Life is a series of unpredictable mysterious events...and when I look back on my life experiences so far...I laugh and cry and laugh some more...for each of these events, these moments in time have left a mark...joy, sadness, anger, extreme happiness, pride...but most of all they have humbled me- made me empathetic and maybe by sharing a few stories ...I will make you laugh, cry, and feel a little humbled too...Life is short, life is scary...life is an unknown road with twists and turns that make it an exciting reason to get up every day and discover...things your mother never told you...enjoy, comment, share your own stories...
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