Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Old Days of Swinging

As someone who does not own a television, I am often intrigued when I am around one. I feel like there is so much I have missed, but not in a longing, upset way, rather in just a minor blip of false reality way. Since I am unable to spend my days flipping channels, I relish the chance when I have it (although it never fails to bore me quickly)

The other day, a group of us went to the usual Sunday night drink spot and had a good laugh over the TV situation. This bar in question is a swanky Drake wannabe by Saturday, and quite another entity by Sunday. Upon entering, we were knocked over by the booming voice of a testosterone induced Stewie and the usual blase Brian. "Hey guys!!" our barkeep friend Mark yelled while hopping up off his comfy seat at the back of the bar, leaving a few guys there to continue watching their seemingly usual Sunday night "Family Guy" extravaganza.

I guess all I have to say is this:
1) A swanky bar tends to take on a hilarious new feel when it houses no clientele, and plays no music, but boasts a big screen TV playing cartoons and blasts the audio through the house speakers
2) When you're trying to concoct a fun blog posting, but just got nothin' but boring stories about television, just post pictures of yourself in a public bathroom.

On Monday I met up with Erin for some much needed wine and catching up. The problem with wine (a lot of wine) on a Monday night, is that it leaves you feeling like the weekend is about to start...but surprise!!! Ya still got a whole week ahead of you!

Favourite restaurant, favourite girl, favourite night-time walk home.

I was floating on my walk home, white wine will do that to me. That walk home from the College / Bathurst neighbourhood is like an old friend to me. I have made that trip, my head filled with music, so many times, through so many different stages of my life. The same streets, the same night gardens, different seasons, different tunes. That walk is like home to me. I have made that walk happy, in tears, in full out depression, in longing, in need. That walk grounds me and reminds me where I am, who I am, where I've been and where I'm going.

This time, as I walked, one of my own songs came on my iPod. I always listen to music and imagine that I am the creator, and this time, I was. This time, I decided to honour my last posting about being kind to your inner child, and following my heart. It was nearing 11:00pm and I was nearing Osler Playground, and my heart was wanting swings!! I tramped through the dewy grass and sandy park and hopped on a swing. When I was a child I spent hours on my swing-set, it was by far my favourite thing in the entire universe to do. When my family moved out of that house, the old woman next door gave me a little figurine of a child swinging (and it actually did swing) She told me that she had watched me grow up on that swing-set, and had felt such joy over my joy, which had touched her.

So on Monday night I just followed my heart (and my feet) and swang away for a good half hour by myself. The air was perfectly warm, the sky was clear, the moon was bright and the buds were just starting to form on the trees. My music sounded better, and I felt happier, like there was nowhere else in the world I was meant to be except on that swing, in that park, on that night.

Enjoy the moment you are in right now, and if your inner child wants to swing, then dammit let her swing!


Monday, April 27, 2009

Be Good to Your Inner Child

It is such a beautiful day out today, and I am in the office (again) So many hours are spent (by most of us) in an office, and as fun and laid back as the office can be, it is still an office. I look outside at the sunshine, and I am reminded of what life was like so many years ago. I remember when some of the greatest pleasures were among the feeling of the warm evening air through my pajamas. Summer dusk will forever remind me of that perfect time of day, when after that evening's bath, my brother and I would put on our cotton pajamas and soak up the last of the evening warmth on the back porch. The sun was still setting, casting orange light on the floor as we turned into bed. That sticky hot room we shared in the attic of the old house; the fan in the corner rattling the hot air from side to side; the hot never seemed hot then.

I remember how such little pleasures in life brought absolute contentment. The days when the words 'stress' and 'heartache' had no meaning. The days when watching The Cosby Show and Fraggle Rock with Craig and Dad, munching away on our Thursday night snacks from Jack's Milk while Mom waited tables into the night at Mother's Pizzeria, were the endless blissful moments that were nothing short of real life.

Most of my life, post those days, has been filled with unnatural stress, fear and hyper-awareness of negativity. I torture myself under my blanket of shyness, this fully debilitating fear of displeasing everyone around me traps me in an awful world of lonely misunderstanding. I have failed that little girl who ran free in the setting sun. I have wronged her, and taken away the life she deserved as much, if not more, than all other children. I have lived my life in such fear that I have accomplished very little; and the most important accomplishments I managed to make, I ruined. I ran away. I have run so far that no one is any longer behind me.

I fear I have left such a mess for that little girl to clean up, and I owe her that help. I owe it to myself to face up to my decisions or I will live the rest of my life in sadness and confusion, shrouded in dark mistakes. I have no outlet any longer since the words of the stories I used to weave have failed me.

It's time to make a promise, as we all need to do from time to time, to honour that little child we once were. Imagine all the cruelty we bring upon ourselves in the form of self doubt, self degradation, negative words of "I'm not good enough...I'm not pretty enough...People don't like me" You are looking into the eyes of your child-self, and telling her she is not good enough, she is not pretty enough, people don't like her. You are still that child, and that is exactly what you are telling her.


This weekend was filled with sunshine. I have decided that one of the promises I will make to myself is to learn the cello. I know I have been playing it for many years, but I haven't truly been learning it. I want to finally be able to truly think of myself as a cello player.

One really fun thing to do, if you want to play with your food and get your cuticles all stained up with curry: go for dinner at Addis Ababa. I love this restaurant. The food is stellar and you eat it with your fingers.

Never forget to have a little fun. No matter how hard things get, and no matter how sad you feel (I am expert at feeling sad) Laugh every day.

Saturday was so gorgeous, the leaves are even coming out early! Below is the big bike purchase that was made last weekend:

I went to Curry's because I was in dire need of canvasses and paint. I am still working on all my paintings for the summer sale. I saw that Curry's was having a sale, so jumped on the art train, then headed to Tortilla Flats for lunch with Jerry and Shayne...but...what's this??? Who should saunter in and join us for a delightful quesadilla/benny/wings/beer/coke?

I can hear the groans from Adam in this picture! (sorry, not sorry, yes these pictures are for my blog!) You guys are awesome and I love you and you are excellent blog-photo-sports.

After lunch, I stepped in dog poo and then went to Trinity Bellwoods for a couple hours of people watching. Tess and Daniel joined us for the people watching (still respecting Tess' wish to NOT have her picture taken ;-)

Laundry in the park anyone???

Wind stirring up. Storm coming in. Most amazing (terrifying) wind storm to ride my bike in ever. That ride down Queen in 100mph winds, with construction stuff and house siding flying through the air and crashing down all around us was nutso. It was damn near impossible to stay upright on my bike, and not get blown full on into traffic. Welcome to Oz.

Drinks at the Paddock and a late night dinner at Tequila Bookworm.

Mix master Gray throwing it down old skool style.

And then I got pooed on by a bird. All down my hair and pooled on my shoulder. Oh the shit I have to deal with.


Friday, April 24, 2009

Old Pix n' Bangs

Killing a bit of time in blog world, waiting for SG so I have a good excuse to finally pour a glawss of wine...I was too warm under my laptop to get up to get the mirror to check the damage, so I decided to just use my photobooth and found a bunch of stuff in there. I kinda miss the bangs from last summer...should I cut bangs again? No, didn't think so either. Bangs are fun, but less fun when your hair GETS CURLIER EVERY DAY OF YOUR LIFE!!!